To the Point of Obsession

He didn't mean any of that.

Yes he did.

Then why didn't he go any further?

Because he knew I didn't want it.

"…But I did," I whispered, not bothering to catch my insanity. I looked in the mirror, pulling down my cardigan slightly to see the red-ish purple mark from The Joker on my shoulder. I shook my head, pulling the sweater back over my shoulder. I'm so weak; I can't even stop someone from kissing me. Walking out of the bathroom, I pulled my hair up away from my face.

I heard laughing from the living room, but not the Joker's familiar cackle. Walking in, I stared at the men, only a few of which were wearing masks. "Boss said you went straight for the pants," one said, laughing again.

I felt myself grow hot, but I quickly shook off the embarrassment and glared. "I don't like wasting time."

They laughed, and one stood up, walking toward me. "Wanna 'not waste time' with me?" he said, wiggling his eyebrows. This only egged the other guys on, who chuckled and called catcalls. I backed up, only to run into another clown. They had formed a circle, with the main one in the middle. I frowned, then tried to run through the line, but was grabbed by a particularly big clown.

I yelled some incoherent obscenities, then kicked, swung, slapped, and grabbed, did anything to get out. The clowns didn't do anything, just grabbed me, touching me. I kept on screaming, and finally, one clown asked, "Anyone have a gag to shut her up with?"

One laughed louder than the others, and said, "Nope… why don’t you just shove your dick in her mouth?"

He laughed again, and started to undo his pants. I struggled more, only stopping when I heard a gunshot, followed by a sinister laugh.

"Well, I thought I taught you goons better than that… Seven… against one." The Joker was standing in the doorway, his gun out, and pieces of plaster falling out of the hole in the ceiling. "That's not fair."

One looked around, then said, "Well, you like making things unfair, so why don't make the eighth, and you get first dibs."

"Oh no, no, no," he shook his head, leaning back comically on the doorframe of the dingy living room. "You ca—"

"Let me guess…" one started, walking forward to his boss, taking his mask off. "She's yours… We can't touch her. She's your property. You did the same thing to Harl—"

The Joker gave him a strict warning glare, raising his gun slightly and turned away. "You guys can have her, go ahead. But, she gets any weapon of her choice at all times. If she fights you off… well it sucks to be you."

There was an awkward silence where the people holding me seemed to lessen up slightly. The Joker still stood there, watching the clowns holding me, and then sighed, "Are you going to offer her a weapon or do you just want me to get rid of her?"

The guys let go, almost tossing me to him. He grabbed my arm and walked, scratch that, dragged me to the door. When he got outside, he let go of me, and I took it as a sign I could talk.

"Thanks, Joke… for stopping them, ya'know?" I muttered, walking to the van.

"Don't mention it," he replied, stressing the' don't.' He stood still, then added, "Oh, and Dahlia," he grabbed my neck, and then slamming my head down on the van hood. "That's for calling me a pansy."

The blow threw me to the ground, making me lose my breath when I slammed to the gravel driveway. I put my hand to my head, where I felt a throbbing lump already forming. I glared up at him, seeing he placed himself above me, straddling my legs. He was kneeling, one hand cradling his chin, with the elbow resting on his knee, and the other holding a knife. "You really shouldn't start with the head. It gets the victim all fuzzy. Can't remember anything, everything goes numb," I mumbled, my words slurring together.

He smiled, then took his knife and ran it around my chest, pressing slightly, only enough to make a trail of red skin where it was. "Would you rather me start with that pretty little face of yours instead?"

I shook my head, making me dizzy with the first move.

"Too bad," he whispered, punching me in the nose, making blood flow immediately. He punched again, hitting my lip. It didn't burst, but it was definitely going to be bruised. "I really don't like you insulting me, Dahlia. Honestly, it hurts me. Right here." He touched were his heart would be.

"Why would it? You've got nothing there," I mumbled, averting my eyes.

"What was that, toots?" he lifted my head up with his knife. "I don't appreciate that." He paused, licking his lips in thought. "Wanna know how I got these scars?" he sneered, placing the knife in my mouth. He gently tugged, only causing a small cut. I didn't say anything, partially due to the fact I had a knife cutting at my mouth. "Well… there was this girl. She was absolutely beautiful, like you. Who said I wasn't happy enough. Said I was always work, work, work. And she didn't like that. So… to make her happy, I get depression pills. But not before I stick this very knife in my mouth and do this," he tugged harder at my mouth, making about an inch cut, "to myself. And I make her a nice meal; I pop a few pills, put on a little makeup, and wait. Turns out, she was fucking my worst enemy. Batman. It wasn't the best day for either of us. But now… I'm always smiling. Always mocking her. Now… would you want to make me like this? Would you fucking hurt me like she did?!"

I kept quiet, but looked him in the eye.

"Well. That was a short lesson learned, class. Let's get back to business."

He let go of the pressure, causing a slight stinging sensation to erupt in my mouth. I winced when I stood up. My head was throbbing. I got in the van, leaning on the window.

"That was weird behavior you pulled back there." He had been silent the whole time until we were about ten minutes from my apartment.

"What did you expect me to do? Fight back and risk getting blown up?" I asked, not opening my eyes, or removing my forehead from the cool window. I didn't hurt anymore except the tug of my lips at the left corner, but I was drowsy.

"Huh?" From his voice, I knew he was confused. "I mean, it's weird for a rape-ophobe to willingly—"

"Well I guess you know what my explanation would be, so just fuck off."

"You want me," he said gleefully, hooting a little.

I shook my head and finally looked at him. His eyes danced around my face, as if he was proud of the damage.

"Aw, that's cute." He put his eyes back on the road and kept his clown like smile on his face. After driving a few minutes more, he asked, "Is it the scars?"

I rolled my eyes, once again not looking up from the window. "No, it's the fact you have a dick. And a pretty large one, judging from the boner you had…"

He laughed, saying, "Fantasizing already, dollface?"

"Oh you know it," I mumbled sarcastically, before jumping out of the van while he was parking and leaping up the fire escape. I was… almost. It was his weird little quirks, like how he licked his lips every ten seconds when he was imagining a kill, or how his eyes always darted around. His dark eyes that lit up when he was going in for the kill were another one of his traits. He was no less than a monster, but how could I think anything? He ripped off mobsters and robbed banks; I took revenge on people I thought deserved it. His opening monologue was making more and more sense with each thought of him.
I knew he couldn’t get Batman by himself, he never thought anything out enough to get that far ahead. He was smart and strong enough to kill him… but too lazy to initiate the plan. 'You complete me…' he had said. Did I really? Was there more to his little plan? The story line of 'Harry Potter' flew from my mind, and I pictured a weird glowing prophecy ball hidden away inside my apartment, saying The Joker and I were meant to work together. And then we'd end up falling in love and popping out four kids a year. Like the Brady Bunch, almost.

"Hey, doll… You passed your floor…"

I looked down at him as he stuck his head out of the window. I nodded and started climbing down, shaking my head.