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Living in Darkness- HIATUS/editing ch 19-25	By : Meursault Category: DC Verse Movies > The Dark Knight Views: 9298 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, nor any of the characters from it. I have not and will not make any money from the writing of this story. All characters are fiction. Story is set after the Dark Knight movie by Christopher Nolan.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Chapter Ten
I wake up to the duct tape being ripped off my face. “Shit!” I whisper, as my mouth tingles and swells a little. I put my finger to my lips; they’re bleeding slightly again. I glare up at the Joker who’s towering over me and carefully get to my feet. “What’d you do that for?” I ask.
The Joker shrugs his shoulders, “For same reason I do everything- the fun of it.”
“Well thanks a lot,” I grumble, walking out of the room and going into mine. I’m still in the same bra and underwear as last night and desperately need to change. The Joker follows me into my room. “Can you leave?” I ask, exasperated, “I need some privacy.”
The Joker puts on a hurt face, “You don’t feel comfortable undressing in front of me?”
“No.”
He rolls his eye. “Fine fine, I’ll leave. Just so you know I have a surprise for you downstairs, so hurry.”
“Is it like the ‘surprise’ last night? If so, I’m not coming down.”
“No, no, it’s not that nice. Just hurry.” The Joker looks almost thrilled as he skips out of my room. I close the door and change my underwear, putting on my last pair of clean clothing. Everything else I have has blood on it, and there is no way I can wash that out. If I’m lucky my surprise will be some new clothes.
I walk suspiciously downstairs. The Joker is waiting by the kitchen table. On the table there is a huge arrangement of flowers; irises, daffodils, pink roses, white lilies, orchids and peach tulips bloom from the large vase. I gasp in amazement; I absolutely adore flowers. Valentine’s day- skip the chocolate, balloons and other crap, just give me flowers. Same goes for any occasion. Well, either that or a book. I’ll defiantly take flowers or a book over jewelry any day. I walk up to the vase and breathe in the scent of the blossoming buds. The aroma sends me back to a time long ago when all I had to worry about was how to tie my shoes and say the alphabet.
“Do you like them?” the Joker asks.
“Yes, I do. Thank you.” I say before I can check myself. The Joker smiles and claps his hands. “What’s the occasion?” I ask, puzzled. I’ve only been here about a week or so. It can’t be my birthday, and certainly not any holiday.
“It’s the year anniversary of the day you almost committed suicide.” He answers, sniggering. “Surprise!”
Well, that was the last thing I expected.
Thoughts start racing through my head. ‘How did…? How did he...? How dare he! This was a very important day for me. I was planning to spend it with my family and close friends. How dare he make a mockery of it! He has no idea what it’s like to wrestle through each day, desperately trying to find happiness, only to go to bed and feel all your efforts are in vain.’ I start to sob, and bury my face in my hands, sinking to the ground. The only reason I’m not dead right now is because of the love I have for my family, for my sisters. And now I don’t even have them. So what’s the point? I feel a set of strong arms wrap around me and the Joker petting my hair.
“Shhh shhhhh,” he says in a soft mocking voice, “shhhh shhh Elena, it’s going to be ok. I’m here. You’re going to be ok, I’ll protect you.”
I let him hold me while I collect myself, “There’s no reason for me to live anymore,” I say into his shoulder. “You’ve taken everything away from me. I’d rather be dead than be here.”
The Joker obviously thinks I’m just rambling away, because he hisses is surprise when I fling myself off the ground away from him and grab one of the knives in the kitchen drawer. I run to the downstairs bathroom, the Joker in pursuit. I’m get there with enough time to lock the door, bolting him out.
“Elena!” the Joker yells angrily, “Open the door!”
I start laughing, “No way!” I yell back, dangerously ecstatic. “I’m done with this! I’m done with you! You’re going to kill me sooner or later, so I might as well finish this now.” I take the knife, take a deep breath, and start slashing my wrists. The pain doesn’t bring me the relief it use to, doesn’t drown me in hazy euphoria, but I continue nevertheless. The Joker pounds and kicks the door as blood seeps down my arms.
“You don’t have the nerve!” I hear the Joker scream. “You couldn’t do it before, and you won’t do it now!” He couldn’t have been more wrong. This time I have nothing holding me back.
I discern I don’t have much time, so I work as quickly as I can muster. My stomach churns with the sight of my slashed wrists, but I try not to faint. ‘This is it,’ I think to myself. I feel a heavy burden leave me and a sense of joy fill my body like a bright light. ‘This is the end. It isn’t what I wanted; I wanted to get better and be happy again! But at least I can finally be free of this torture.’ Just as I’m about to cut what I know to be an artery, the bathroom door bursts open and the Joker strides in, eyes ablaze, no trace of a smile creeping up his face. I hold the knife up to my throat.
“Come any closer, and I will slit my throat,” I warn him. He stops in his tracks and stares at me, at the pool of blood on the floor and my red soaked shirt, looking scared for the first time ever. I begin to laugh, almost hysterically at my realization. “You- you want me to live!” I manage to choke out. “You’re actually afraid of losing me!” I feel lightheaded and begin laughing. The Joker notes my mental weakness and takes the opportunity to lunge at me, wrestling the knife from my grasp. He slaps me hard across the face, and my ears begin to ring.
The Joker grabs me by the wrists and hauls me to my feet, leaning me against the counter. I’m too weak to protest, but continue to laugh weakly. With this much blood loss, I don’t think I’ll last much longer. Darkness seeps into my vision as he washes the cuts and rudely pours rubbing alcohol on them.
I wince in pain. “Why won’t you let me die,” I whisper, “please, just let me die.”
The Joker laughs for the first time, “Although your actions are quite…amusing, I can’t let you kill yourself just yet.”
“Why not?”
“You still have so much to learn about life.”
“Don’t give me some crap lesson about how the world is a dark place. In the end it doesn’t matter what we believe, we all die.” I angrily try to wrestle away from him, but he holds on tight.
“You know what?” the Joker laughs menacingly, “I’ll agree with you for once: your life is far from being perfect. But you need to get over it because you belong to me and I’m not done with you. There are so many fun things we have yet to do!”
“You’re not very persuasive, are you?” I scoff. Unfortunately, my vision is returning and I’m regaining my balance. Apparently I didn’t do as good a job as I thought. The Joker takes my wrists and begins to securely wrap bandages around them. “You know the next time I’m alone I’m just going to try again.” I tell him with a smirk, “There is really no use for these bandages, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“Actually, you’re wrong about that,” the Joker counters, taping the bandages in place. “You see, you may not care about your own life, but for some strange reason you care about other’s. If you kill yourself, or even happen to die ‘accidentally’ by toppling down the stairs or choking of food per say, I won’t hesitate to murder you’re family.” My mouth flies open, I didn’t image he would threaten me with that.
“Oh no...” I plead, “That’s not fair. You can’t drag them into this. This is between you and me.”
“You see,” he continues, ignoring me “I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. I’d be so enraged from losing my new favorite toy! And you know me, when I get mad I just get this urge to make something bleed, and… who better than your family?” He smacks his lips. “It all depends on you, Elena. Their lives are in your hands. Got it?” I lower my head, nodding. Reality dawns on me; I will not be able to escape this hell by death. My only chance is to run, a sorry hope at best.
Looking back on that moment, I’d like to think it wasn’t the Joker’s threat that kept me alive. The love my family had for me and I for them still harnessed my soul to the earth. I know it sounds like nonsense, but that day I learned how strong love can be. But anyways…
After I agree not to try to commit suicide, the Joker kisses my cheek and informs me he’ll be gone the rest of the day. And even though I’m ‘pmsing’, I need to behave myself and get all my chores done. This however, turns out to be a bigger challenge than I thought. Added to the fact my arms sting excruciatingly, I’m not in the best of moods to say the least. I have little to no motivation to clean or cook. After throwing out the flowers, I spend the first half of the day playing piano (badly) and writing in my journal. It was actually therapeutic; it helped me sort out all my different emotions and cheered me up a bit.
After that, I read more of Steppenwolf. By now, my class will almost be done with the book, but it makes me feel purposeful to at least try and stay on top of my schoolwork. Finally, I work up the energy to clean the bathroom where I cut myself and do some laundry. The only clothes I have now are riddled with brown blood stains. I go looking in some of the other rooms, even the Joker’s room, but there are no women’s clothes anywhere. Whatever.
Around five in the evening, I realize I probably need to make some sort of dinner. Still feeling unmotivated, I slap together some grilled cheese sandwiches and salads. Today though, I am not waiting for him. I put his food on the table and take mine to the living room along with a glass of white wine. Wine and grilled cheese, classy. I get only a few pages into my book when the Joker comes in. He sees the food on the table and looks around, obviously confused why I’m not in the kitchen.
No use hiding. “Hey.” I say, “What’s up?”
“What are you doing?” the Joker asks, “You’re supposed to wait. Also, grilled cheese? Really, Elena? You were doing so well!”
I shrug my shoulders as he sits down and motions for me to join him. I get up and move to the table. “You see, since my failed suicide attempt this morning, I’ve been feeling a little indifferent about things. Especially stupid chores I don’t want to do. Besides, grilled cheese is good.”
“Yeah, but I’m not keeping you around to cook things I can do myself,” the Joker argues.
“Oh that’s right; you’re keeping me around to rape me. Sorry I keep forgetting.”
The Joker tsks, “Have you learned nothing about me Elena? Do you think I would just rape you like a common criminal?”
“Uh, yeah…”
“No, when I do fuck you, you’ll enjoy it. You’ll be begging me to fuck you.”
Ha, not going to happen. But I answer, “Whatever you say.”
“Carry on with an attitude like that and maybe I will rape you. You’re getting on my nerves.”
“This is your fault,” I counter. You’re the one who kidnapped me. You’re the one who constantly harasses me. You’re the sick bastard who tried to celebrate my attempted suicide. If I’m annoying you, that’s your problem.”
The Joker takes his knife and drives it into the table, inches from my fingers. He smiles sinisterly.
“Am I making you mad,” I ask through a grin. The Joker doesn’t answer. “Enough to kill me?” I smirk.
“Enough to starve you for a week, skin you, and then pluck out your eyes.”
“Oh yeah, I’m so sure.” I answer. The Joker continues to stare at me, almost a feral-like gleam in his dark eyes, as if just waiting for me to let down my guard. Although I’m feeling really apathetic right now, I still don’t want him to hurt me. It’s probably best if I change the subject.
“So, after all this trouble I’ve caused you, why are you still keeping me around?” I ask. “Besides the obvious.”
“I’ve already told you, you’re better than anyone else would be. In addition, you’re also interesting.”
“Is that why you kidnapped me in the first place?” I ask.
“Sometimes there aren’t ah, reasons behind things.” The Joker lectures, pushing his plate away. “Sometime things just happen.”
“You had a reason,” I counter, “you were stalking me for days.”
“Weeks actually.”
Creep…“So tell me why.”
The Joker laughs, “Now why would I do that? What's more, you can probably figure it out with the sharp brain of yours.”
“If you tell me, I’ll lose the attitude.”
“You’ll lose the attitude whether I tell you or not.”
“Ok then, if you tell me…I’ll entertain you tonight.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Why the interest? You’re such a prude, why give that up now for an insignificant piece of information?”
“I have my reasons,” I answer. Besides being curious, I think it would be an advantage to know. The more I know about the Joker’s intentions, the easier it will be for me to survive. “But make up your mind, this offer won’t last much longer.”
The Joker raises his eyebrows in surprise, and then smirks. “Fine, you’ve got yourself a deal. The reason I chose you over anyone else isn’t because you’re special. You just weren’t like other girls. Normal women go about their lives without a care in the world. I knew it would be fun to break them, show them the dark side of humanity… But then I saw you and I knew instantly you had already experienced the dark, maybe even found it comforting. You studied too hard and didn’t socialize much, even with your close friends. You went to therapy and ah, sat alone in your apartment for hours and hours doing nothing.
I was drawn to you because like me, you’re a freak. You don’t fit in with society. Sometimes, you hate society. I’d miss the opportunity to teach a lesson on how cruel humans can be, but at least you wouldn’t be a two-dimensional whore. At least you’d have some fight in you, and I like that. As I’ve told you before, it turns me on. Does that answer your question?”
“So you chose me because you knew I was depressed?”
“I didn’t know you were depressed, I just knew you had…issues.”
“And so because of that, you knew you’d have fun digging into my brain.”
“Essentially.”
“Lovely. So glad I can provide that enjoyment.” I say exasperated. I didn’t really learn anything about him I didn’t know before, except he really does find interest in my thought process. Maybe I could use that to my advantage in the future.
I continue to think. “I’m not a freak,” I finally say. “Lots of people have mental illnesses.”
“Everyone’s freak in some way, you just more than others.” the Joker contradicts. “But enough talking about you for tonight. You said you’d entertain me!”
“Ok, go sit on the couch,” I tell him. I gather our plates and load them into the dishwasher. I glance over at him by the couch, as he begins to take his pants off. “Hey, wait!” I call.
“What, you want to do it yourself?’ the Joker asks suggestively.
“No. I’m going to read to you for entertainment.” I answer.
“HAHAHAHA!” the Joker laughs maniacally. “Reading is not entertaining!”
“Reading is very entertaining,” I protest. “And I didn’t specify what kind of entertainment I was going to do. It’s your fault you assumed wrong.” The Joker glares at me and continues to unbuckle his pants.
“I thought you were a man of your word.” I say nonchalantly. The remark hit home. Surprisingly, the Joker stops and groans, and stuffs his shirt back into his pants.
I go over to the bookshelf and look through the novels the previous owner had. “Well hurry up and pick something so you can ‘entertain’ me,” he grouches from the couch. I contemplate reading Lolita (told from the point of view of a pedophile), but I decide against it. I don’t want to give him any ideas. Finally The Stranger by Albert Camus catches my eye. He might like it…it’s about a man who is alienated from his society by his indifference. In the end he realizes his apathy is caused by his knowledge that life has no purpose. You can tell I get a lot of my viewpoints from this novel.
I sit down next to the Joker, who scoots closer to me and wraps his arm around my shoulder. I finch, but allow the contact, as its innocent enough. I begin reading and after a page or so the Joker complains, “This is so boring.”
“It gets better,” I argue, “plus look how short it is!” I continue through the first couple of chapters until I start to nod off. “We can finish the rest later.” I say, closing the book. “Did you like it?”
The Joker stares off into space, lost in thought. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “This uh, this Meursault guy…I like him, but he needs to be more forceful in taking what he wants.”
“But that’s the thing,” I say, “He doesn’t desire anything. Sure, he finds happiness in the day-to-day wonders of life, but not in material goods or even long-term goals.”
The Joker smiles at me, “Everyone desires something, whether they tell you or not.” He stands up, stretches, smearing the greasy hair out of his face. I take this as a good sign, happy I found an activity that doesn’t result in me getting hurt. We walk upstairs in silence, the Joker still pondering the story, or possibly something else. When I get to the room, I realize I don’t have anything clean to sleep in.
“Do you have any more women’s clothes,” I ask the Joker.
“Huh?” he answers, not paying attention.
“Clothes?” I ask again.
The Joker goes into his closet and returns with a men’s dress shirt. It’s better than nothing. I go to change in the bathroom, and notice he doesn’t even try to argue. I make a mental note to try to read to him as much as possible, it seems to calm him down a lot. I crawl into bed, glad not to be sleeping on the floor tonight. The Joker lays down close beside me and lifts up my arm, examining the bandages from this morning. Then dropping my arms back in place, he wraps his arm around my front. He doesn’t fondle me however, and soon I hear him snoring softly. I shift a bit to get comfortable, my mind going through the events of the hectic day. Everyday in this house is a test; so far I’ve passed all of them¸ even the one against myself. The only way I’m going to get out is staying strong, and the only way to stay strong is to stop feeling sorry for myself.
Although I know I’ll probably be traumatized by the Joker again soon, I vow to myself that I won’t let him see me cry anymore. I refuse to give him that satisfaction. And with this new decision, I fall into restful sleep.
- 9
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- 11
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Living in Darkness- HIATUS/editing ch 19-25