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 Twenty-one
I spent most of that night vainly trying to escape my bonds. At some point though I must have finally fallen asleep. When I gain consciousness, I sit up groggily and instantly notice the ropes circling my wrists and ankles have been cut. Someone must have come during the night and taken pity on me. Or maybe the Joker didn’t want to deal with cutting off my limbs from loss of circulation. Rubbing my raw pink wrists, I carefully step out of bed and trudge to the bathroom. My stomach churns and I barely make it to the toilet in time to throw up. The alcohol plus mystery drug from last night has given me one hell of a hangover. I hate feeling nauseous and so stick a finger down my throat. It’s disgusting, but makes me feel better afterwards. My head clears a bit and I’m able to stand up without wanting to puke. What I would give to be back home eating ‘hangover crackers’ and watching TV. I guess a shower will have to suffice. As I look for a clean towel, I catch my reflection in the mirror and quickly avert my eyes. Normally I look like shit when hung-over, and after last night I really don’t need to see myself covered in god knows what. However, temptation is, well, tempting and I can’t help facing my reflection. Doing so makes me gasp in modification. With chucks of dried blood, bruises, and red paint smeared across my face and chest, I look like a monster. To be specific, a zombie. I pick at one of the scabs on my face; it doesn’t hurt much. My nose, however, aches like a bitch and is covered in dried blood. Moaning in wretchedness, I climb into the shower and turn on the hot water. Carefully, I wash the blood from my face, twingeing when I rub my nose too hard. It’s not broken, but is terribly swollen. I stay in the shower for a good forty-five minutes, letting the water drops caress my back and sooth my tender limbs. I use the towel to dry off and apply some Neosporin to my cheek. No longer hidden by blood, a large black and purple bruise covers the entirety of my nose, making me look like some sadistic version of Rudolf the Red-Nose Reindeer. Lovely. I drag myself from the bathroom and dress in one of the few remaining outfits I have left. I sit myself nervously on the edge of the bed, waiting. Waiting for what, I don’t know. My hands tremble, my leg bounces, and my forehead coats with sweat. A deep depression soaks me to the soul. I’m out of time. There’s nothing more I can do to keep the Joker at bay- that was proven last night. I have no more scars to buy me time, no deal the Joker would agree to. The month is almost up if my calculations are correct. And I kissed him, why did I kiss him? Being drunk is not a good enough excuse, I’m such an idiot. And I have nothing to protect me anymore. I put my head in my hands and sigh, letting small tears trickle down my cheeks. When the Joker comes back he’s going to rape me, and there is nothing I can do to stop him. I could always set up a blockade in the bathroom, but it would only delay the inevitable. Sooner or later I would starve. Killing myself is out of the question ever since the Joker threatened the safety of my family. I have only one choice. Sitting upright, I wipe the tears from my face and replace it with determination. I have to get out of here. I have to escape. First, I get one of the backpacks we used for luggage. Looking around the room, I realize there isn’t anything here I need. I don’t have any weapons or food, nothing of value or use. Guess I don’t need the backpack after all! Shoving the backpack back into the wardrobe, I find the closest thing I have to tennis shoes and strap them on. Then, I begin to stretch a little. My escape is probably going to involve some running, and I need to warm up. After ten minutes, I face the door. “Okay, Elena, you can do this. You’re strong, you’re determined, and you don’t have a choice.” I glace up at the ceiling and smile; the camera is still broken. “Ok Elena, GO!” I charge at the door and throw my weight against it with a grunt. The door doesn’t budge, surprise surprise. Breathing heavily, I pick up one of the chairs and throw it against the door. A few splinters of wood chip off, but that’s it. I pick up the other chair and heave it at the door, managing to make another small dent. Frantically, I begin to search the room for something to break down the door. The Joker could come back at any time, I have to act quickly. As I look under the bed, I spot something odd…and wonderful. Why didn’t I think of it before? Last night the Joker reached under the bed and pulled a length of rope out of nowhere. And there now, strapped to the bottom of the mattress is a treasure chest of goodies. There are two large switchblades, a small gun, a cell phone, three hundred dollars in cash, and a silver key. I laugh to myself; it’s almost too good to be true, am I living in a movie or something? Taking out the switchblades, I shove them in my back pocket along with the three hundred dollars. The gun doesn’t have any bullets, so I throw it back under the bed. I don’t even attempt using the phone since it probably has a tracker on it. Finally, I pick up the key and tread softly to the door. Placing my ear against the wood, I listen but hear no noise coming from the outside. Fluidly, I slip the key into the lock and turn it to the right. The bolt slides open and I swear I hear angels singing in joy. I noiselessly turn the handle and peek outside. The hallway is empty as far as I can tell, but I can’t assume I’m safe. Likely the Joker has this whole place under surveillance. I inhale deeply, swing the door open, and run full speed down to the end of the hall. Luckily, I vaguely remember the layout of the floor from last night. I’m about to press the down button when I hear a noise behind me. I start in surprise, backing myself into a corner and pulling out one of the switchblades. I look down the long hall- there’s no one there. Maybe it was another camera? I look up at the ceiling but don’t see anything that looks like a camera. Confused, I put the knife back in my pocket and step out from the corner. Suddenly, I hear the noise again and pinpoint it coming from the door opposite the elevator. As I listen closer, I hear the muffled sounds of yells echo through the door. Hesitantly, I rap on the door and the yelling stops. I hear the quick pad of footsteps and jump as the door handle rattles. There’s a person on the other side of the door, a person in trouble. I test the handle and finding it locked, insert the key into the lock. The key fits and I smile as I turn it and open the door. A large blur runs out, tackling me to the floor. I bring my arms up to shield my face when I hear an intake of breath. Sitting on my chest is a young boy, no older than eleven. We stare dumbly at each other before he climbs off my stomach and pulls me to my feet. “Sorry,” he whispers, looking down the hall behind me. “I thought you were the Joker. I wanted to punch him in the face.” I stare oddly at the boy; he’s no one I recognize. “Who are you?” “I’m Jimmy,” he answers. “Who are you?” “I’m Elena.” He nods as though that means something. “Are you ok?” “Why?” He points at my face, “Your nose is purple. Did you hurt it?” I gingerly touch my nose. “It’s just bruised. What are you doing here?” The boy sniffs and stares at his feet. “I was at my friend’s house for a sleepover and was woken up by these men. They shot…they actually shot my friend! I tried to fight them but they put me in a van. Then the Joker came and locked me in this room. I said my dad would get him. And he said my dad would be the death of me.” A tear leaks out of the boy’s eye but he hastily wipes it away. He then looks up at me. “My dad hates the Joker.” I put my hand on his shoulder and kneel down so we’re face to face. “I’m really sorry your friend died, but it’s going to be okay. You’re a brave kid and we’re going to get out of here.” Jimmy nods. “So, you don’t work for the Joker then?” I stifle a laugh, “No, defiantly not.” “Good, you seem nice. How are we going to get out?” I take the boy’s arm, lead him to the elevator, and press the button. The elevator pings open and we step inside. The doors shut and I tell Jimmy my plan. “When we try and escape, it’s really important for you do everything I say. I’ve been with the Joker for about three weeks so I know him better than you. If I tell you to run, you run. Same thing goes with hiding. If the Joker catches us, he might kill us so we can’t give up. Here,” I hand him one of the blades from my pocket. “Cool!” “Be careful with that, it’s sharp. If anyone tries to grab you, don’t be afraid to stab them. These aren’t good people.” “Yeah I know. My dad’s always talking about finding the good in people. Only he says not the Joker. The Joker’s evil.” “Who’s your dad?” I ask. “James Gordon. He’s the best policeman. And he’s friends with Batman.” My head jerks in Jimmy’s direction. “Your dad is Commissioner Gordon?! Oh god, that’s probably why you were kidnapped. At least we know for sure the police will help us when we get out of here. ” The elevator opens and we sneak out into the hallway. The lobby is completely empty. We make towards the back of the hotel since the front is sure to be guarded. I peak around a corner and see four large glass doors leading to the outside. There is no one in sight, so we creep closer the doors. When we’re about twenty feet away, I realize there are guards standing in the street below the door. There are about five of them, all looking extremely bored. “I don’t think we can go this way,” I whisper to Jimmy. He tugs at my shirt and points to the elevator. The numbers above are lighting up, meaning the elevator’s moving. Someone’s going to come down in a matter of minutes and catch us unless we do something. I look from Jimmy to the large glass doors. A selfish thought flits through my head. If we went out the doors, I could easily beat Jimmy in a foot race. There’s a chance the guards would catch up to him and I would get away. Quickly, I shake the horrible thought from my head. I guess it’s true that all of us are only human; it’s just my survival instinct kicking it. Glancing up at the elevator, I see it’s stopped at the eighth floor, meaning we only have about a minute to act. “What are we going to do?” Jimmy stammers. “Ok,” I sternly. “I’m going to run out those doors and cause a scene. As soon as the men begin to chase me, you run, going in the opposite direction. Run as fast as you can.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the wad of cash. “Don’t stop until you get to a place with lots of people. Then find someone to take you to the police station. Use the money to bribe them if you need to. Find your dad; you’ll be safe with him.” “What happens if the men chase me too?” “Hide. Hide somewhere small and close to the ground where they won’t look. Wait about twenty minutes before you come out again.” “What about you?” Jimmy asks feverantly. I smile. “I’ll outrun the men. If I don’t, it’ll be okay anyways. The Joker doesn’t want to kill me. The kid doesn’t buy it. “But he hurt you, didn’t he? He did that to your nose. I want you to come with me. My dad can protect you.” “You promised to listen to me, remember? What matters is you escaping. I think the Joker plans on killing you, you’re in immediate danger.” The elevator is on the third floor. Only a few seconds. “I’m going to go now. Be careful and run fast, don’t worry about me. You can make it.” Jimmy nods. I turn around. “Wait,” he says. “What’s your name again? I can get my dad to help you.” “Elena Davett. I’ll see you soon okay? Meet you at the police station.” “Ok,” Jimmy answers. I turn and go. The glass doors approach quickly. I push one open and casually walk out, gazing over at the men standing. At first, they don’t even spare me a glimpse. As I walk down the steps, I begin to hear them murmuring. Suddenly, one comes up and grabs me by the shoulder. “Miss, what are you doing here? Who are you?” It would be so easy to lie and just leave, but I need to get them to chase me. “I’m Elena,” I answer loudly, “And I’m escaping.” With that, I plunge my knife into the guy’s stomach and sprint down the street. If that didn’t get their attention, nothing will. “She’s escaped! Get her!” voices shout behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I see the four remaining men chasing me and smile. Jimmy has a good chance of getting out without a fight. At the next block, I turn right into an alley and then left into another alley. Footsteps echo behind me and I get a flashback of the night I was kidnapped. The images make adrenaline pump through my veins and I sprint without tiring for the first time in my life. As I round a corner, I see one of the guys at the other end of the street. “Hey, come back here!” he yells gruffly and runs towards me. I go the opposite way, turn into a larger street and run until I end up in a desolate looking neighborhood. This must be a poor suburb just outside Gotham. A good amount of people are walking around and I quickly blend into the crowd. I weave through the people until I come across an old shabby bar. Ducking through the door, I cough as I inhale a cloud of smoke. Wiping my eyes, I seek refuge in one of the corner booths, catching my breath and trying to figure out my next move. I need to get to my family before the Joker realizes I’m gone; if he can’t find me, he’ll go after them next. Just then a large red-faced man walks up to me. “Afternoon. What will you be havin’ t’day?” “Oh, I don’t want anything, thanks.” Not exactly true, but I don’t have money or time to eat. The barman frowns at me and grips, “We don’t have der space for every whore to come lazyin’ about. Either order somethin’ or ge’ out.” I’m about to argue when the door opens and the Joker’s men file in. I promptly duck, hiding myself behind the girth of the barman. “Um, what do you have?” I ask. I just have to keep him in front of me until the men leave. “We ‘ave almost every kind o’ cheap beer on tap, some ale, an’ a few stronger drinks if you’re interested.” “Do you have anything nonalcoholic?” I ask, peeping around him. The men are looking about but don’t seem to notice me hidden in the corner. “This is a bar, what do ya expect?” the barman grumps. Finally, the Joker’s men give up and exit the bar. “Just bring me a glass of ale,” I sigh with relief. The barman waddles away, content with my order. I need to leave before he comes back; things could get nasty if he finds out I don’t have money. Before I can stand up and slink away, the door bursts open again and the Joker himself strides in. Freshly decked in his violet suit ensemble, he carries with him a machine gun, which he fires into the air. Bits of ceiling fall loose and flutter to the ground. I slump in my seat. The room goes deathly silent. The fat barman scurries up to the Joker, who’s surveying the room with a psychotic smile. “Please, sir. We don’t wan’ no trouble.” The Joker sneers. “I’m not here to start trouble; I’m looking for what’s mine. Have you seen a woman or a young boy run in here recently? They would look tired.” The barman shakes his head desperately. “No, no I haven’t seen anyone like that. Not nothing odd.” The Joker taps his gun on the ground, “Really? I see about a number of people who could match my description.” “Ha, well, there are a lot o’ young women ‘ere. Them prostitutes like the cheap beer I serve. And I give the children the leftovers.” The Joker looks like a predator as he begins to stalk around the room. I sink further into my seat. “The woman is easy to spot,” he says arrogantly while trailing his eyes over everyone. “She has a large scrape on one cheek and a dark bruise over her nose.” The barman’s eyes meet mine. He knows the Joker is talking about me. I mean, who else around here has a purple nose? I shake my head at him, hoping he’ll get the message and help me out. His eyes dart away from me. “I swear, I haven’t seen no one like that,” he tells the Joker, who has turned back to face him. “If I do, I’ll make sure ta tell you, firs’ thing.” The Joker paces towards the barman and flicks his knife open, sticking it in his mouth. The man’s large belly shakes as he quivers in fear. “I think you’re lying,” the Joker hisses at him. “Actually no, I know you’re lying. I can see it in your eyes. You know what I do to liars?” The barman whimpers as the Joker removes his knife and raises his gun. “I kill them.” With a grin, the Joker aims his gun and shoots one of the random guys sitting at the bar. The young man falls over, blood dripping from the small hole in his head. With that, the room erupts in chaos. People scramble over each other to get to the door, screaming hysterically. It would be a good time to run except the door’s blocked. Better to stay hidden. Shots are soon fired into the mass and bodies fall. “SIT DOWN!” the Joker hollers, waving his knife and gun forcefully. The people who are still alive decide to play it safe and obey without question. They slide into their seats and shut their mouths. The Joker turns his attention back to the barman. “Now, I’m going to ask you again. And this time I want the truth. Have you seen the girl or the boy?” The barman quivers. The Joker points his gun. Like Jimmy, I can’t use this man to protect me. I spring up from my seat. “Wait!” I yell, “Stop!” Everyone in the bar looks in my direction. The Joker spins slowly, a large crazed grin plastered on his face. A dark sinister fire brews in his eyes as he waltzes towards me. “Why Elena,” he coos, pointing his knife at me, “how uh…how nice to find you. You can’t imagine the fright you gave me, running away without even a goodbye. Naughty, naughty.” My face grows red as the Joker taunts me in front of the crowd of strangers. “Unfortunately, your actions have put me in a foul mood and I must vent my aggression.” He swerves back to the barman and throws the knife forcefully in his direction. The blade lodges itself in the man’s neck and he falls to the ground, screaming in pain. “No!” I yell and begin to run to help the barman. With a smile, the Joker pushes me roughly into a table, where I slip and fall. Then, he goes over to the withering man, lifts his foot, and stamps on his neck so the blade is plunged deeper in. The man coughs, blood spills from his mouth and he stops moving. I gaze at the Joker in horror. “You’re a monster,” I spit at him, reaching into my pocket and grabbing my switchblade. “So are they,” the Joker motions at the other people. “So are you.” “They are not like you,” I insist. “They don’t commit murder.” The Joker smiles. “What about you? Are you admitting you’re a murderer?” “Maybe,” I say softly. I bring my knife up and charge towards the Joker. Before I can reach him, he pulls up his gun and shoots. I expect pain, but it never comes. Is this what death’s like? There isn’t even any blood on my shirt. That’s when I hear a crash from behind me. I turn around and see an older woman facedown on the floor. Blood pools from her head. I begin to move towards her when the Joker cackles. “Stop Elena.” I ignore him and bend down, checking the woman’s pulse. There is none. “Elena!” the Joker bellows. “Come here!” I stand up, turn and slowly approach him. “Drop the knife.” In despair, I let the switchblade fall to the floor. The Joker licks his lips. “If you come with me now no one else will be shot. You don’t want more people’s blood on your hands, do you?” “No,” I say trying to maintain my composure. I approach the Joker and am instantly grabbed from behind by some of his men. My hands are cuffed behind my back. The Joker grabs me by the chin, pulling my face up to his. “Where is the boy?” he hisses. I can’t help but grinning. “Looks like he got away,” I answer coolly. “You know you’re going to pay for this.” “You shouldn’t have stashed all that stuff under the bed.” I retort. The Joker glares, lets go of my chin and smacks me hard across the face. I wince as my nose screams in pain, a trail of blood dripping down from it. “Take her to the van,” he tells his men. I’m dragged to the nondescript black van out front and cuffed to a bar in the back seat. After a few minutes, the Joker slides in beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “Take a good look at the sky, Elena,” he leers. “You won’t be seeing it for a long, long time.” With that, the Joker clamps a rag over my nose and although I struggle, I inhale the distinct smell of chloroform and eventually black out.While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
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