Sequel: Falling Apart ›
Status: Completed! Sequel up now!!
Met Your Match
t h r e e
"Don't forget that I know where you live, girl." "I could kill you at any given moment." "Don't think for a second that you're safe." "We will meet again. And I will kill you." "Debts need to be paid. You owe me either money or blood."
The threats came on postcards exactly like the one he'd first summoned her to his house with. Every day, she went out to her mailbox and there was a new one there. Two weeks went by and they kept coming. She knew she was going to have to face him. She knew she might have to kill him, and she was prepared for it. She didn't necessarily make a habit out of killing scumbags; she wasn't The Bat after all, but she was pretty sure she could make an exception for the Clown Prince.
Mostly she was just waiting for him to make the first move. She figured he was probably pooling all of his resources, trying to figure out who -or what- she was. Finally almost a month later, a sleek black car pulled up outside her house. Two henchmen broke down her front door and wordlessly tied her hands behind her back and put a cloth bag over her head. She didn't fight them, mostly because she wanted to go back to the mansion. She wanted to face him again.
The henchmen threw her in the back of a van, and before she knew it they were pulling up to the mansion. She was roughly pulled from the van and carried inside. She heard his cackling laughter as the henchmen threw her into a corner. When the bag was finally pulled from her head, J himself was standing there staring at her with his magnificent eyes. They shone as he smiled at her.
"Hello, dollface. Glad to see ya again," he said, stripping out of the suit jacket he was wearing, leaving him in just a dirty white tank top. He flexed his muscular arms as the two henchmen forced Addy into a chair and tied her to it.
The henchmen left the room, leaving Addy alone with the Joker. He looked at her from across the room for a good couple of minutes, a smile plastered to his face. Suddenly, he moved across the room swiftly, stopping right in front of her. He began patting her all over; looking for a weapon, she assumed. He found the gun tucked into the waistband of her jeans and the knife strapped to her ankle.
"Anything else?" he asked, and she shook her head. "Good. Now, let's play, shall we?" he asked, looking at her intensely. She felt like his stare was going to physically burn her.
"Do your worst," she told him, her hands already working as quietly as possible behind her to loosen her bonds. He reached into the corner of the room and produced what looked like a cattle prod on steroids. He pressed a button and it sparked loudly. He pressed it firmly into her chest and she couldn't help but flinch and let out a grunt. Another benefit of her "mutation" was that she healed incredibly fast, so she knew that nothing he did would have lasting effects, but it didn't make it hurt any less while it was happening.
"Why aren't you afraid of me?" he asked a moment later, sounding annoyed.
"I don't see anything to be afraid of," she told him, and she could tell he wanted to hit her. His hand curled into a fist, but he kept it firmly at his side. Instead, he pushed the prod into the other side of her chest, then once again in her stomach. She called out in pain despite herself, and he cackled.
"So you do feel pain," he said, almost to himself.
"I assume you've researched me?" she asked, and he nodded enthusiastically.
"Oh yes, doll. Yes, I have. I know that you're a monster just like me. I know that your mommy and daddy hate you because you're different. I know that you make a living being a dirty thief, just like the rest of us," he said, and she shook her head firmly. He was right on almost all accounts. She was a monster. Her parents had never treated her the same after the accident. Her job was technically stealing. But she wasn't like him, not one bit. Anything she stole, any bad she did, it was only for someone else or to do something good where it couldn't have happened before.
He smiled as he hit her again with the prod, this time right in her left temple. She screamed, and he cackled in front of her. She felt herself edging near unconsciousness and fought it as hard as she could. Before she had a chance to say anything else he hit her other temple, making her scream again. Her vision blurred and she slumped in the chair, unconscious.
The Joker stared at her. She was so different to his normal victims. She wasn't scared of him, didn't seem to be scared of anything. How exciting, he thought as he untied her and threw her over his shoulder to put her in a room upstairs. This was gonna be fun.
The threats came on postcards exactly like the one he'd first summoned her to his house with. Every day, she went out to her mailbox and there was a new one there. Two weeks went by and they kept coming. She knew she was going to have to face him. She knew she might have to kill him, and she was prepared for it. She didn't necessarily make a habit out of killing scumbags; she wasn't The Bat after all, but she was pretty sure she could make an exception for the Clown Prince.
Mostly she was just waiting for him to make the first move. She figured he was probably pooling all of his resources, trying to figure out who -or what- she was. Finally almost a month later, a sleek black car pulled up outside her house. Two henchmen broke down her front door and wordlessly tied her hands behind her back and put a cloth bag over her head. She didn't fight them, mostly because she wanted to go back to the mansion. She wanted to face him again.
The henchmen threw her in the back of a van, and before she knew it they were pulling up to the mansion. She was roughly pulled from the van and carried inside. She heard his cackling laughter as the henchmen threw her into a corner. When the bag was finally pulled from her head, J himself was standing there staring at her with his magnificent eyes. They shone as he smiled at her.
"Hello, dollface. Glad to see ya again," he said, stripping out of the suit jacket he was wearing, leaving him in just a dirty white tank top. He flexed his muscular arms as the two henchmen forced Addy into a chair and tied her to it.
The henchmen left the room, leaving Addy alone with the Joker. He looked at her from across the room for a good couple of minutes, a smile plastered to his face. Suddenly, he moved across the room swiftly, stopping right in front of her. He began patting her all over; looking for a weapon, she assumed. He found the gun tucked into the waistband of her jeans and the knife strapped to her ankle.
"Anything else?" he asked, and she shook her head. "Good. Now, let's play, shall we?" he asked, looking at her intensely. She felt like his stare was going to physically burn her.
"Do your worst," she told him, her hands already working as quietly as possible behind her to loosen her bonds. He reached into the corner of the room and produced what looked like a cattle prod on steroids. He pressed a button and it sparked loudly. He pressed it firmly into her chest and she couldn't help but flinch and let out a grunt. Another benefit of her "mutation" was that she healed incredibly fast, so she knew that nothing he did would have lasting effects, but it didn't make it hurt any less while it was happening.
"Why aren't you afraid of me?" he asked a moment later, sounding annoyed.
"I don't see anything to be afraid of," she told him, and she could tell he wanted to hit her. His hand curled into a fist, but he kept it firmly at his side. Instead, he pushed the prod into the other side of her chest, then once again in her stomach. She called out in pain despite herself, and he cackled.
"So you do feel pain," he said, almost to himself.
"I assume you've researched me?" she asked, and he nodded enthusiastically.
"Oh yes, doll. Yes, I have. I know that you're a monster just like me. I know that your mommy and daddy hate you because you're different. I know that you make a living being a dirty thief, just like the rest of us," he said, and she shook her head firmly. He was right on almost all accounts. She was a monster. Her parents had never treated her the same after the accident. Her job was technically stealing. But she wasn't like him, not one bit. Anything she stole, any bad she did, it was only for someone else or to do something good where it couldn't have happened before.
He smiled as he hit her again with the prod, this time right in her left temple. She screamed, and he cackled in front of her. She felt herself edging near unconsciousness and fought it as hard as she could. Before she had a chance to say anything else he hit her other temple, making her scream again. Her vision blurred and she slumped in the chair, unconscious.
The Joker stared at her. She was so different to his normal victims. She wasn't scared of him, didn't seem to be scared of anything. How exciting, he thought as he untied her and threw her over his shoulder to put her in a room upstairs. This was gonna be fun.