The Night I Had the Joker

I sat on my own in the corner with a drink. I gazed around the room looking at all the other comic book characters, Spiderman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, and there he was, The Joker. I was Catwoman. I kept my eyes on The Joker, taking in every detail, I was amazed by him. I'd seen The Dark Knight a couple of nights before that, and ever since then I couldn't keep my mind off of him. I couldn't believe I was attracted to that clown. He spun round and I immediately took an interest in my glass. He walked over. My heart beat increased and the PVC suit I was in was doing no favors to my temperature.

"Why hello there." He said smoothly, the scarred smile widened.

"Hi." I said looking up but knowing as soon as I looked in his eyes I'd fall in love with this character.

"I saw you looking at me."

"You did?"

"Did you like what you saw?"

I blushed. There was no way in getting out of this one. Why couldn't the floor just have a trap door? A panic room? Anything to stop this embarrassment.

He stroked the front of his hand on my cheek, his soft...warm...hand. I whimpered not knowing what he was thinking. Did he honestly carry those knives around like he did in the movie?

Before I knew it he'd persuaded me to go back to his place. When smitten, I'm vulnerable. I trust everything and everyone. Even thrill seeking clowns. He drove a beaten old car, probably stolen, and it had a musky smell to it too. I couldn't help but wonder if there was a gagged person tied up in the trunk, and if that musky smell was blood? Somehow I couldn't find the courage to ask.

He lived in an old warehouse in Down Town Gotham and like everything he wore, it was good quality. He opened the door and to my horror there were people in there, guys. They all wore unique clown masks, and were sat around playing a card game. They were surrounded by money and alcohol. When they looked up, The Joker swung his arm around me, and the men all turned back to their game. He walked me over to a bottle of Whiskey and poured two glasses. I didn't drink much, but I didn't want to ruin this, so I downed it, not really enjoying the taste as it burnt my throat, but smiled to convince him otherwise. Was he trying to get me drunk so he could have his wicked way with me? I wanted him with or without the Whiskey.

"You're not much of a talker?" He said it as a question but I knew he meant it as a statement.

"I'm just-."

"Nervous?" He finished for me.

I nodded thinking maybe it was the best way to answer,

"Is it the scars?" He pointed to his mouth.

"You wanna know how I got 'em?"

Before I could answer, he pulled the familiar knife out of his pocket and put it to his mouth.

"So I had a wife, beautiful, like you, who tells me I worry too much. Who tells me I ought to smile more. Who gambles and gets in deep with the sharks... look at me! One day, they carve her face. And we have no money for surgeries. She can't take it. I just want to see her smile again, hmm? I just want her to know that I don't care about the scars. So... I stick a razor in my mouth and do this...
[mimics slicing his mouth open with his knife gently]to myself. And you know what? She can't stand the sight of me! She leaves. Now I see the funny side. Now I'm always smiling!"

He'd said that line in the movie, but somehow it suddenly seemed realistic. As he says the line I can hear his breathing become deeper. A smoker? Or just for effect? Either way it'd made me a little scared, but I was still attracted to him. I noticed none of the men had turned to watch The Joker tell his story. Did he say it often? Or were they scared too?

"Come on." He took me to his room but not in the most romantic way. He unlocked the door. Why did he lock the door? Switched the light on, and hanged his purple jacket on the back of the door.

"Why did you go to the costume party?" I asked, watching him remove his expensive shoes.

"Am I not aloud to party?" He smiled.

He took a step forward so our noses almost touched. I could see by his neck that he wasn't that white, no where near. In fact, he had a light tan. I liked how he dressed smartly and before long those clothes were on the floor along with my catsuit.

He kissed me hard, his hands cupping my face. I kissed back trying to match his force. I thanked God that The Joker wasn't a biter. I couldn't stand biters. My long black nails gently graced his body which to my surprise was unmarked. He pushed me back gently towards the wall and I turned the light back off. The moonlight swarmed the room and when we rarely opened our eyes we'd admire each other's shadow and how good it looked with the other.

We both grew impatient and soon we went to the heavier stuff. I'd assumed from the story about his wife that he'd not been 'loved' for a while, so I gave him my everything. All the way through it I'd wonder if I'd have to endure in a night of S&M due to the amount of knives he carries around, he gives off that impression. However, we didn't. It was a simple act of love making between two people. No strings attached. No relationship. Strangers. I couldn't see him being a man to marry again and never expected him to call.

The next morning, the phone rang, and I sat straight up.

"Hello?"

The line went dead.

I suddenly felt my mouth soar with excruciating pain. My fingers graced my lips and that morning they were more than chapped. I sped over to my mirror. My face. Just like his. With pots of half used make up sat on my desk, next to them sat a Joker card. I flipped it over;

With love from The Joker x