Sequel: Smile for Me
Status: Finished :)

Give Me a Smile

Throats

I killed someone for him three days later. A man by the name of Phil. He was the second man I killed, after my mother’s boyfriend, Tom. A gambler. I remember very clearly that Phil was a gambler. There were spades tattooed on his index fingers.

He’d made Joker angry, crossed him on a deal or something like that. Joker was in a playful mood that night. “Quinnie! Come, HA!, come down here and see what I’ve caught for you.” I walked down to the main floor of the warehouse to see him, standing by the kneeling gambler.

“Quinnie, this is Phil. Phil, Quinnie. I’m sure you’re both charmed.” He winked at me. “Phil’s been dying to, ha!, meet you.” Phil was gagged, but I could hear him begging as sweat trickled down his face. His hands were crossed over his chest. Joker took one of his knives out and touched the blade to the man’s cheek.

“What do you think I should cut off first? Your fingers? Your eyes? Your lying tongue?” He stepped back and examined him, grinning. “Or would you like it to be quick and painless?” Phil nodded, obviously hoping for the easy way out. “Quinn. Come here.” I obediently went to Joker’s side. “I want you to kill this man,” he said evenly, holding the knife out.

I took it. It seemed heavier than I remembered a knife being. The gambler leaned away from me as I stepped closer, feeling excited and a little sick. I’d changed so much in the past months. I was holding a fucking knife to someone’s throat, for God’s sake. “Quinnie, I don’t have all day,” Joker said, pretending to check his watch.

“I....I...” I didn’t even know where to begin. When I’d killed Tom it had been spur of the moment, almost accidental. This was different. I could feel Phil’s jugular vein under my fingertips, smell his sweat. He was crying. Joker sighed impatiently and stood behind me, wrapping his hands around mine.

“You see, Quinnie, it’s really simple. You just tilt the head back, like so, and tug,” he said matter of factly, helping me kill the man. Blood spilled over our fingertips as we slit his throat. I smiled up at Joker, hoping he would be proud. He grinned down and patted my head, muttering, “So much for keeping you from being a criminal.”
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The Joker: Why can't he ever stay dead?