Would You Destroy Something Perfect, in Order to Make It Beautiful?

“Did you want them to have your real name? One of them already though you were Bruce’s,” he said. “You need to learn how to just, relax,” he whispered.

“Joker!” one of the guys yelled. We left the room and saw them holding Darrel’s body.

“What do we do with him?” another one asked.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Joker said and went downstairs. I followed, not knowing what to do. I heard Bruce’s voice when we got to the bottom of the stairs. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. I realized it was coming from the old TV in the living room. I walked over and saw the other guys watching the news.

“…seen her, please call the police department. I will be rewarding 5 million dollars for her safe return,” Bruce told the camera. His eyes and nose was a light pink. His hair looked fine, but it looked like someone had fixed It before they shined the camera his way. After he was done talking, a picture of me was shown on the TV. I didn’t know how to feel, but I suddenly didn’t feel good.

One of the guys turned around and stared at me. The smug look on his face scared me. He slowly got up and stood in front of me.

“So. You’re worth five million dollars, eh?” he asked.

“N-no. That’s… um… my twin…,” I lied.

“Bull!” he yelled, grabbing my arm.

“Joker!” I yelled, hoping wherever he was that he heard me.

“Shut your mouth. Who are you really working for? Hm? Who are you a spy for?” he demanded, his face inches from mine.

“You don’t know me! Let me go! Joker!” I yelled louder. I tried yanking my arm away but he tightened his grip and started to walk away, dragging me alongside him.

“Joker!” I screamed, hitting the man’s arm. He suddenly stopped walking and I looked up, seeing Joker in the man’s way. His face was dark, glaring at the man. I saw a knife in his hand.

“She’s a spy Boss. Bruce Wayne is looking for her. She’s worth five million dollars!” the man said.

“She’s not a spy. Let her go,” Joker said. Suddenly, his free hand wrapped around the back of the man’s neck. He stuck the knife in his mouth. “I told you not to touch her,” Joker threatened as the goon whimpered. I knew Joker was loving his reaction to the fear he was inflicting. “Shhh. Wanna know how I got these scars?” the guy let go me and shook his head the best he could. “You see, my father was a drinker. Always drunk. I had a girlfriend, she was beautiful. I brought her home one night and things got rough. My father, uh, came into my room after we had finished, uh, ‘expressing our love’. He wanted to have a go at her. I beat him off, but he comes back with a knife. He holds it out and says, he says, ‘Why so serious, son?’ he comes at me, and sticks the razor into my mouth, like this,” he explained, prying the knife further into his mouth. “He asks again as he carves this smile on my face, ‘Life’s a joke, son. Smile more,’ he tells me. So I ask you, Why so serious?” after a moment of silence, Joker’s knife had sliced through the man’s mouth. Blood poured from the corners of his lips and dripped onto the floor. The blade had stabbed through both his cheeks, leaved him with cuts carved in a grotesque smile that mirrors Joker.

Silence hung in the air, apart from the shrill cries from the man screaming and suffering. I stood behind Joker, watching. I looked around the room and saw all of the other men watching in horror at what Joker had done. The man laid on the floor, bleeding and grasping at his face.

“You’re crazy,” one of the guys gasped.

“I told you not to touch her,” he growled at them. The man on the floor cried out in pain again. Joker kicked him over onto his back. He crouched down and stuck the knife into the crying man’s chest. Blood was gushing all over Joker’s purple gloves and sleeves, which didn’t stop him from stabbing the man more.

I put my hand over my mouth in shock, but when the man stopped moving and crying, I started to giggle unexpectedly. The situation seemed absurdly humorous but the expressions of the men’s faces disagreed.

“If you don’t like how I operate, get out now,” Joker told them. “If you’re going to stay, do something with this,” he nudged at the body with his foot and started to go upstairs.

None of the men moved or spoke. Joker didn’t like rules. The only one they had to remember was to leave me alone.

“Well, get to it,” I said to them. They all seemed to be waiting for someone to make the first move. A man on the far right stepped forward and stood next to the body. Four other men stepped forward, leaving the man that first flirted with me all alone. He looked from me to the body and back to me. I raised my eyebrows, hoping he’d hurry up and he slowly made his way to the body.

“Get rid of it,” I ordered. They picked up the body and left. I let out a long, suppressed sigh and flopped down on the couch. I missed the old goons, which was surprised because they were all stupid. But they knew the rules.

A few weeks pass and all we’ve done is rob a bank and blown up a few buildings. Two of the goons are great bomb makers, and have taught me a few things. One of them is the first guy that flirted with me. We call him Ditzy because he is really stupid. Ditzy and I ended up spending a lot of time together, because he always has more tricks to show me.

One evening, I was really hungry, because the goons ate all the pizza. I told Ditzy I was going down the street to get food.

“Let me come with you,” he offered.

“No, I’ll be fine. I have my taser,” I said, patting my pocket.

“Still, I think you would be less likely to get hurt if a man is with you,” he argued. I let out a short laugh.

“Go ask Joker if you can come with me,” I challenged. He froze and didn’t move because he knew what would happen if he asked Joker. “That’s what I thought. Besides, all of the thugs around this block know to be scared of me. They know I’m with Joker. I’ll be okay!: I stressed. He frowned at me. “Bye Ditzy!” I said and slapped his cheek lightly.

It wasn’t that dark out yet, so I didn’t feel scared at all. And not that I ever did anyways. I knew no one would hurt me. I went to the small café down the road and got a sandwich. I sat at a table by myself and ate quickly.

It was a bit darker than when I left, but I still wasn’t scared. I had to walk through a small alley to cut across to the warehouse. Halfway through, I heard rustling and was knocked to the ground. I reached for my taser and saw a black figure hovering over me. I jabbed at my attacker but missed. Panic swept through my veins, my heart was beating wildly.

“Maroni wants his money. Tell Joker,” I heard a dark voice say.

“So you attack an unarmed girl to tell him?” I asked.

“You had a taser you bitch!” he yelled. “Tell Joker!” he said and I heard him run away. Groaning, I got up and continued my journey to the warehouse.

I saw Joker sitting at the kitchen table. I walked up to him, running my fingers across his back and down his arm. Joker and I are not what people would call ‘official’. We haven’t kissed since I broke him out of Akrham, but we still sleep in the same bed. I guess I’m okay with it, because I know he has a hard time connecting to his feelings.

“Hello Doll,” he purred.

“Hello Joker. Maroni wants his money,” I said. He chuckled.

“He’s never going to see… How do you know about that?” he asked slowly.

“One of his thugs just attacked me,” I said.

“What?” he asked.

“One of Maroni’s men pushed me to the ground and told me to tell you that Maroni wants his money.”

“You’re going to stay here with Ditzy and Claus tomorrow and I’m going to go talk with Maroni,” he said.

“Et me go, I want to beat him up,” I whined.

“Beat up Maroni?” he laughed. “You’re almost as crazy as me, Doll,” he laughed harder.

“Fine,” I said and walked away from him.