Smile for Me

I went back to Joker with my hands shaking, but feeling pretty pleased with myself. I’d be healed now, the Nightmare world banished. Joker was sprawled in his chair looking bored, jaw working as he stared at the TV screen. All I could see was static, and I wondered what he was thinking. “Joker?” “I’m thinking.”

I closed my mouth and sat near him, thumbing through a book. Funny, that. I wasn’t much of a reader before Joker took me. Halfway through my book Joker jumped up, sending his chair falling backward. “Quinnie. Get me, ha, get me a gun.”

I hurried to obey, searching the room to find his Glock left on the bed. I picked it up, feeling the heavy weight in my hands. I still hadn’t gotten used to guns. If I was going to be violent I preferred knives, like Joker. He took it from me and spun, pulling the trigger. I covered my ears as the gun went off, leaving three bullet holes in the opposite wall. They made a perfect triangle. Joker tossed the gun casually aside, waving the smoke away.

“Shoulda shot you, Quinnie, ha, shoulda shot your pretty heart out,” he mumbled, spinning around me and away. I swallowed back the fear and forced myself to be still, keeping my shoulders straight. He could be like a wild animal when someone showed fear, striking randomly. He had this unsettling habit of circling people, making them turn and turn to keep him in view. I was tempted to do that now.

He came up from behind to wrap an arm around me, body press into mine. The barrel of a gun was held to my temple, cold and dangerous. The breath caught in my throat. I could hear Joker breathing, interrupted by his soft chuckles. I had the sense he was waiting for something. “Please...” I murmured, hands going up to grip the arm around my chest. I recognized this as a hostage posture, something Joker would know well. He held me tighter, almost painful, coat buttons cutting into my back.

“Your brains all over the wall, splattered pink, haha, gonna cut and bleed and maim and hurt, haha scream, gonna make you scream, Quinnie, stretch those pretty scars. HA! Wanna hurt you kill you, break you in half, Quinnie,” he hissed in my ear, pushing the gun harder into my skin. I squirmed a little, trying to pull his arm away from my chest. “No, no, Quinnie, stay still. Stay fucking still.”

I froze immediately, keeping hold of his arm. “Please, don’t,” I whispered, letting my head fall back on his shoulder. The gun was gone instantly, replaced by the familiar, almost comforting, knife. I swallowed, letting the blade slice my skin, and waited. He could kill me or not, I had no power. Joker traced patterns across my throat and to my face, lingering on the scars, before he cackled loud enough to make me jump, putting the knife away.

He had me tug my shirt up and over my head as he undid his pants. I breathed a sigh of relief and reached for him, surprised when he danced away. “Nope, ha, nope, Quinn.” My pulse was hammering in my ears again, but not from fear this time. Joker wasn’t dangerous like this anyway. “But...want.” He grinned at me, knife appearing in one hand. “Run, Quinnie. I wanna, ha, play.” I giggled and started running, not caring if I was shirtless.

Later, when he was done fucking me, I sprawled on the bed and slept, missing his departure. I woke up to a very bright light, almost painful. I blinked sleepily and felt like I was falling.

I’m not falling, though. Suddenly the world is tilting to the side, walls melting into a thousand colors. I hear chimes somewhere distant, I feel dizzy and fall to my knees, gagging. I don’t throw up, but the walls haven’t stopped moving and the floor is unsteady under my feet. Standing, I stumble for the door. The lock seems to dance away from my hand, glinting impishly, so I give up and slump to the ground again. Close my eyes tight, curl up holding my knees. The chimes fade eventually as the floor stops rocking.

I opened my eyes to see that everything appeared normal. I was sitting two feet away from the door, although it had seemed so close. “What was that?” I mumbled, getting to my feet. I decided to shrug the incident off as something Joker had given me as a prank. It was something he would do.

And all of a sudden the world tilts again, shadows lengthening. Chimes are ringing again, the room goes dark and I feel dizzy, a little scared. I don’t like the dark. The floor is unsteady. I stumble and fall to my bum. “Hello?” My voice echoes oddly, like it’s been stolen from my throat. I don’t speak again, lean my head back, look up and see two bright lights, spinning closer.

Try to reach for them, but my arms are too heavy, I can’t move. I’m happy, though, almost hysterically so, grin stretching so far my scars hurt. Close my eyes, but it doesn’t help this time, just makes me feel worse, a wave of nausea washes over me, so I lie back until the weirdness passes.