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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
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Chapter Twenty-two
I wake in the dark. Rubbing my eyes, I squint into the inky black. For a second I fear I’ve gone blind; I can’t even see my hands. A wave a relief fills me however, as I notice a thin line of yellow light streaming in through the dark. It’s a beam of hope and I’m drawn to it like a moth. I steadily crawl across the ground towards the light so as to avoid tripping over unseen objects. When I finally reach the line of light, I stroke my finger across it as you would a cat and only then realize the light is coming from underneath a door. Reaching up, I rub my hands along the wood until I find the handle. Pulling and pushing does nothing; the door is locked. Kneeling down, I lay my head against the ground and peek under the door. The gap is small and I can only make out the beige carpet on the other side. Am I at the hotel again or back hom- I mean back at the house? I follow the wall with my hand until I find a corner and lean back into it. I try to keep as close to the light as possible; it keeps me from feeling I’m drowning in black nothingness.
The air is chilly and smells faintly of chemicals. Goose bumps pop up on my arms and I rub them, trying to warm myself. I pluck at my shirt, I’m pretty sure it’s the same one I was wearing when I escaped. It must be the same day then. How long have I been in here? Not long, I’d be hungrier than I am.
Thinking of food makes my stomach gurgle. I should have eaten something at that bar before the Joker showed up. Waffles sound good. I wring my hands as I think about Jimmy. Did he escape? Last time I saw the Joker, they still hadn’t found him. I have no doubt the Joker was planning to kill Jimmy, him being the Commissioner’s son and all. God, I hope he got away.
A creak issues from the darkness. I whip my head in the direction of the sound. “Hello?” I call into the dark. “Is there anyone here?” I sit still for a long time, listening, yet no one answers. After awhile, my eyes adjust the darkness and I’m able to see my hands if they are right in front of my face. Standing up slowly, I ease up against the wall and guide myself forward. I take about eight medium paces before I hit a wall. Turning right, I take another three paces before hitting another wall. So the room seems to be rectangular: eight by three paces, whatever that means. There aren’t any other doors or windows. So the door with the light is the only way out.
I return to the corner by the light and sigh as I lay myself on the ground, cradling my head atop my arms. I’m obviously in here as ‘punishment,’ but I hope the Joker comes soon. Without anything to entertain me, I am becoming incredibly bored, despite how superficial that sounds. And boredom often leads to unhappy thoughts. There’s a fair chance I’ll get a beating, but I need to get out of this room. Isolation in the dark is a punishment I can’t handle for very long.
Knowing there is nothing I can do for now, I close my eyes and am able to drift into sleep.

It’s the pain in my stomach and my skin that wakes me this time. The howling of the AC fills my ears. I curl up into a ball, but there is little to protect me from the intense cold. I can’t stop quaking as the cold seeps under my skin, pricking with sharp ice fingers. The best I can do is hug myself and try to trick my brain into thinking I’m warm. Besides being cold, I am terribly hungry. I’m use to three decent meals a day. If anyone has let too many hours pass without eating, they know the gnawing pain of hunger. It’s persistent and unrelenting, only passing with food or time. I don’t want to wait hours for my hunger to fade away; I need some food in me now. Shivering, I scoot to the door and bang my fist against it several times.
“Hello? Is anyone there? Hello?!” I yell. “Let me out!” There is no sound from the other side. Dejectedly, I return to my corner and wrap my arms around myself, trying to ignore the cold. I wouldn’t be surprised if it started snowing in here, though I feel like the snow in Gotham would be grey; it’s just that kind of city. If, no, when I get out of here, I’m defiantly going to consider moving back home. I’m done with Gotham. I need to work on my therapy and I need the support of my family. College is fun, but I’m not mentally ready to take on so much stress. I could take a few classes at the community college or get a job. There’s no use in ‘succeeding’ by society’s standards if I’m going to be depressed all the time. I would rather just be happy.
My stomach throbs again. I groan in angst and frustration. It’s then I hear hushed voices coming from outside the door. Quickly, I go to the door and knock loudly.
“Hello?! Is someone there? Please let me out!” A minute passes and just when I begin to sit back down, the door opens. A blinding white light blares through and I throw up my arms to shield my eyes. Roughly, I’m grabbed from behind and my hands are tied together. I squint through my watery eyes, letting them slowly adjust to the light. Suddenly, I jump with a squeak as I see the Joker standing not five feet from me, red smile standing out in the dark. It takes a couple of seconds and someone smacking me in the head for me to realize it’s not the Joker. It’s just the crazy mural thing I painted of him. I must be at the house then; this is the spare room. Before I have anymore time to register my surroundings, I’m lead down the hallway. One man stands in from of me while one stands behind, pushing me forward.
“Thank you for letting me out,” I whisper. “Where are we going?” Neither of them answers. I turn and look at the man behind me; he doesn’t look very nice (surprise, surprise).
“Where’s the Joker?” I ask him. He doesn’t even acknowledge me and continues to stare straight ahead. “Ok,” I mouth to myself. I guess I’ll be quiet then. I’m quickly led down the stairs into the basement. The last time I was down here, I was forced to clean up the carcass of that dead man.
I can’t help freaking out, “Guys, what’s going on?” I ask frantically. Again, I’m ignored. The man in front reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key. We approach the side door that’s been locked for as long as I’ve been here. He sticks the key into the lock and opens the door. I struggle hysterically as I look into the vast darkness on the other side.
“NO! I’m not going in there. I’m not going back in the dark! No! NO!” I might as well be shouting to myself. The men shove me forcefully inside the dark room. My hands are still tied behind me and I sprawl to the ground. I manage to sit up in time to see the two men close the door and lock it, sealing me yet again in the dark. And this time, there is no light to huddle by. Their footsteps pad away from the room. “You can’t just leave me in here!” I holler after them.
A sense of dread fills me and I gasp out a sob. Just when I thought I was free, I’m locked inside another room. Usually I’m not scared of the dark. It’s mysterious and comforting. In here though, I’m not sure whether I even exist or not. I’m going to go crazy. Suddenly, I have a new sense of respect for blind people. How do they manage to live in a world without sight?
With effort, I stand up and walk to where I think the door is. The walls seem to be made of concrete while the door is some kind of metal. At least there’s a difference. I move to sit back down when a noise stops me. It’s known that when one sense is taken, the others become more acute. I don’t think I would have heard it had the lights been on. But I do hear it and I freeze, listening intently. Another thud, like that of a footfall sounds across the room.
“Hello?” I whisper hesitantly into the dark. A frightening thought grips me. “Jimmy, is that you? Are you hurt?” It has to be him- who else would they have down here? I begin to move towards Jimmy when a great force collides into me, hurtling me to the ground. I’m not able to break my fall and smash the back of my head against the hard concrete.
The back of my head pounds horribly. A weak moan escapes my lips. I roll slowly onto my stomach so tied arms aren’t supporting all my weight.
“Jimmy?” I call out faintly. I then yell in pain as I’m suddenly dragged to my knees by the hair.
“Stand up,” a cruel voice demands in my ear. The voice is unmistakable: it’s the Joker. To me, it might as well be Satan. Shakily, I rest my feet against the ground and stand up. There’s nothing more I want to do than hide; even in the dark I feel so exposed.
A dim light flickers on. I blink my eyes a few times, adjusting faster this time than the last. In front of me, the Joker lounges predatorily against the wall, a small television beside him. His dark eyes bore into mine, yet I try to meet his gaze for as long as possible. A small smile flickers against his painted face, but it shows neither amusement nor arrogance. The smile reflects pure fury.
I can hold his cold gaze no longer and my eyes flicker to the television. As if reading my mind, the Joker reaches over and presses the power switch. Despite her newly dyed blond hair, I immediately recognize the famous Gotham anchor, Vicki Vale.

‘Good evening Gotham, I’m sorry for the interruption but this is a special report. The following contains sensitive material that may be unsuitable for some viewers.’ she says into the camera. ‘We have with us Commissioner Jim Gordon, whose son was kidnapped by the infamous Joker last night. Just this afternoon, young Jimmy Gordon returned home with an incredible story. Commissioner, can you tell us exactly what happened to your son?’ Jim Gordon frowns and crosses his arms.

‘I did not come on here to talk about the specifics of my son’s kidnapping. I agreed to do this interview for the sake of a civilian who is still in the hands of the Joker.’

‘Of course,’ replies Vicki, ‘but will you tell us what happened?’

Gordon brushes a hand across his mustache. ‘I cannot give certain information, but will sum up what happened. When my son was kidnapped by the Joker, he learned of a plot that would result in many deaths, including his own. Before the Joker could carry out this plot, my son was rescued by a young woman named Elena Davett, who was reported missing almost a month ago. Thanks to this woman, my son was able to escape. We believe the Joker still has Ms. Davett and has been physically abusing her. Because of the Joker’s violent nature, we have assembled the best policemen to find and rescue Elena Davett. She is a truly a hero; I owe her the life of my son. ’

The camera pans back to Vicki. ‘Thank you Commissioner,’ she says gravely. ‘If anyone has any information about the whereabouts of the Joker or Elena Davett, please call police.’ My high school graduation picture flashes on the screen. ‘Ms. Davett is twenty, and a student at Gotham University. Her family lives in a small city outside Gotham and has been put in police custody for their safety. That’s all for our special report, now back to your program.’

The Joker turns the television off and looks at me. His expression is unreadable and I take a step back in fear. The Joker cracks his knuckles, folds his arms over his chest and leans against the wall. I’m glad he’s not hurting me, but this passive aggressive silence is just as frightening. He seems to be waiting for something.
I take a deep breath. “I’m not going to apologize for helping Jimmy escape. So if that’s what you want, you’re going to be disappointed.”
The Joker smiles slightly, and then wider. His smile soon turns into a full-fledged laughing fit. I take another step back.
“I don’t want heheheh, I don’t want an apology haha!” the Joker says through bursts of laughter. “Why would I even care hahaha?” He coughs and then stops laughing. His face becomes stiff as he boosts himself off the wall and struts towards me. He stops when he is a few paces from me and fold his hands together. His eyes pierce mine. “I just want to punish you,” he says cruelly.
I breathe out raggedly and close my eyes. Tears spill down my cheeks as I begin to cry. Through clenched teeth I say, “Can we just get this over with then?”
Another laugh erupts from the Joker, making me open my eyes. “Oh Elena,” he purrs, “This isn’t something that we can just wrap up in ah, in a few minutes. Things like this take time.”
“Things like what?”
“Reformation.”
“I don’t understand,” I sob.
The Joker smiles widely and walks slowly up to me. “I’m afraid I can’t explain,” he giggles as he places his hands on my shoulders.
“Why are you doing this?” I moan wretchedly. The tears are now pouring; my body shakes in terror of what’s to come. “Is this all about helping Jimmy escape?”
The Joker wraps his arm around my shoulder and squeezes me close to him. I feel him shrug his shoulders. “You have to understand sweetie, it’s not just because you helped that brat escape. You embarrassed me in front of all of Gotham. You ah, you ruined the plan I’ve been working on for weeks.” I try to step away from him, but he swings around and grasps my chin in his hand. “You’ve always been an annoying little cunt, but now you’ve crossed the line. It’ll be the last time you interfere.” He lets go of my chin, and slaps my cheek smartly twice before backing away.
Without a word, the Joker reaches into his pocket and pulls out two pairs of handcuffs. I wail softly but don’t move as the Joker approaches me; there’s no use in fighting now. First he kneels down before me and cuffs my ankles together. Then he goes behind me, flicks his knife open and saws through the ropes already biding my wrists. I examine them; they’re pink and raw but the skin isn’t broken. As the Joker comes around, a smirk flits over his face.
“I’m surprised you’re not resisting,” he says coolly.
“I don’t want you to hurt me anymore,” I confess with a glare.
The Joker sniggers and grabs my arm, half leading half dragging me to a small steel bar bolted to the lower half of the wall.
“Sit down,” he orders. I kneel and fold my cuffed legs under me. He shackles one of my hands, wraps the chain around the bar and cuffs the other. I have a little room to move my arms, but they’re mostly stuck in a raised position. The Joker then stands up and looks me over, leering.
“Can I have something to eat?” I ask. I hate that I’m begging the Joker for food, but I’m starving.
The Joker smiles, “No.” He squats down beside me and caresses my face with his pale hand. I make a face of disgust, which just makes him giggle. “Just so you know,” he glowers, “I am going to enjoy this. And even if you don’t resist, I’m still going to hurt you.”
“Leave me alone,” I growl in his face.
“As you wish.” The Joker bounces up and walks cheerfully to the door. Taking a small key from his pocket, he inserts it into the lock. Turning, he waves mockingly at me and then shuts the door with a bang. A few seconds later, the light goes out again and I’m swallowed in darkness.
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Living in Darkness- HIATUS/editing ch 19-25