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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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter Nine
When I wake up in the morning I look at my face for the first time since last night.My lip is still swollen, with a nasty cut down the middle. A large purple bruise covers my left eye and cheekbone. Small black bruises, apparently from the impact of knuckles, are scattered on my chin. A few scratches run across my forehead. My face still throbs weakly, but not as bad as I anticipated. I’m just glad my face doesn’t look like a big swollen melon.
Walking into the living room on the way to the kitchen, the first thing I notice is the piano. It’s a baby grand, with gleaming black and white keys. I smile as I press down the middle C. I too lessons for eight years but didn’t enjoy them much. Ironically, once I quit I started playing more and learned to love it. This was a good prize; it would definitely help me pass the time during the day.
I suddenly hear footsteps upstairs and realize the Joker is probably awake. There isn’t time to make an elaborate breakfast, so I throw some bread in the toaster and get out a jar of jam. Just as I hear him coming downstairs, the toast pops up and I’m able to get it on the table with butter and the jam.
He smiles at me and says cheerfully, “Good morning!” I nod my head and smile slightly, taking my seat across from him. “You’ve got something on your face, an ugly smudge” he quips, motioning to my left eye and grinning. I begin to begin to wipe off this ‘smudge,’ but then realize he’s talking about the bruise and stop.
“What do you do all day when you leave?” I ask suddenly as he starts to eat.
“Aww, why? Do you miss me? I can start coming home earlier if you want.”
I make a face, “I’d prefer you didn’t. And I was just curious.”
“The usual,” he says, waving his hand about, “Blowing building up, robbing banks, causing chaos, social experiments.”
“Maybe you should go to college.” I snip.
“What makes you think I didn’t?”
“Usually people who have a degree get jobs.”
The Joker laughs, “I work eight hours a day and get paid; I think it qualifies as a job. Besides,” he adds, pointing at me, “you were at college, and aren’t fairing off so well.” Unfortunately, he has a point. “Enough small talk though, I have something important to discuss with you Elena.”
“What would that be?” I ask dully.
“Don’t look so down, we’re having a party!”
I raise my eyebrows, “A party…?”
“Well, more like a business meeting. There are going to be five people coming over tonight, to discuss ah, let’s just call it ‘my plan’. All you have to do is clean and cook something good before they get here. And no vegetarian crap. Also, try to look presentable; wear the blue dress, and here.” He slides over a little container of make-up across the table at me. “Put that on your face, it’ll cover up your strange black spots.”
“It’s not like I have a disease,” I snap, “And it’s your fault anyways.”
The Joker smacks his lips, stands up and walks over to me. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who tried to run away. I didn’t force you to break the rules.”
“Yeah, but-”
“A-ta-ta-ta,” the Joker says, as he presses his finger to my mouth. “No more quarrelling, especially when we both know you’re wrong.” He smiles and tries to plant a kiss on my lips, but I move my head at the last second, so it lands on my cheek. He then ruffles my hair, like you would a child and walks out the door, yelling behind him, “Bye bye!”
Well this was going to be a fun day. Right after he leaves, I look through the cook book for something to make tonight. Who in their right mind would want to hang out with the Joker? Idiots…
I know we have salmon in the fridge, so I can bake that. Although not everyone likes fish, it’s obvious the Joker does so that’s good enough. With that I can steam some asparagus and do baked potatoes again. Alright, simple enough.
The majority of the day I spend cleaning around the house, especially downstairs. I don’t want to give the Joker anything to complain about. About midday, I take a break and play the new piano. There is a book of Sonatas on the shelf, some which I’ve played before. I happily play through the book, until I find a piece that’s fun. Marking it with a pencil, I am excited to start practicing again. The piano’s nice; it’s distracting enough so I almost forget where I am. After a few hours I begin to grow bored. There are limited things to do around the house and too much time to think. I begin to search the house for a spiral or journal of sorts to use as a diary. Writing down my feeling seems like the best way to get some sort of “therapy” since I’ve been missing my usual sessions. God knows I can’t talk to the Joker about my emotions.
In the spare bedroom, I find a blank notepad along with a few used. Flipping through and reading the entries, it dawns on me that this was originally someone else’s house. What had happened to the previous owners? All their stuff was still here. They must have had a daughter, because the diaries are filled with amusing complaints like ‘Daddy won’t let me go to Sally’s house for a sleepover. I hate him!’ as well as trivial crushes, ‘Remember last week when I said I liked Jack? Well now I like Victor. He’s so cute!’
I laugh, closing the diaries and placing them back on the shelf, bringing the blank one with me to my room. Taking a pen, I begin to write:

I think I’ve been here a week or so, but I’m not sure. The solitude is already starting to affect me. I miss my family terribly, and just need someone to talk to. Being in a hostile environment without my medications has really proved to me that although I’ve come a long way since last year, I have a ways to go before I am fully recovered. What hurts the most is how the Joker makes me feel so powerless. Nothing I do prevents him from getting what he wants. I haven’t cried in front of anyone in years, and now I do it almost everyday. That monster deserves to rot in hell…
I carry on for a bit more and then close the diary, shoving it under my mattress. It’s not the ideal way to cope with emotions, but it’s better than nothing.
Soon, evening rolls around and I start to prepare dinner. I’m just about to pull the salmon out when hands suddenly cover my eyes tightly and a sing-song voice rings out, “Guess who!”
“Oh golly, I have no idea.” I said sarcastically. The Joker removes his hands, laughing shrilly.
“Did ya miss me?” he smiles widely, “Did you pine all day long?”
“I don’t like being lonely,” I answer truthfully.
The Joker frowns slightly. “So, you didn’t really miss me, you just missed human contact. Well, that’s ok. It won’t last forever. Soon, you’ll get to a point when you will desperately crave my presence.” He says it with such conviction it’s actually difficult not to believe him.
“Anyways!” the Joker says, “Finish getting dinner ready and then go get dressed.” He runs up the stairs in a flash of purple and out of sight.
I pull the salmon out of the oven; the potatoes still need a few more minutes. I go upstairs and slip the dress on. With the low neckline, it would be revealing on anyone else but since I have almost no cleavage it actually looks pretty cute. There is a pair of black heels on my bed, along with a small silver necklace so I put those on as well. Checking myself out in the mirror, I look pretty good minus my face. Taking the small container of cover-up, I carefully dab it on the bruises. Now they’re hardly visible.
I go back downstairs to the kitchen and put the asparagus in. There is a whistle behind me. I turn around and the Joker is glancing up and down my body indiscreetly. He’s wearing another violet jacket, but this one is a little nicer. He’s also reapplied his face so none of the paint is smeared like usual. “Impressive Elena, you clean up very nicely,” he says suggestively.
“Uh, thanks...” I reply. I’m not sure if he’s just saying I look nice, or if I usually look like crap.
He strolls over to me, “How do I look?” He looks the same as he always does: creepy. His hair is as greasy and green as usual.
“You look dashing,” I answer, trying to keep a straight face.
“Heh heh, very funny,” the Joker says, slapping my butt “but remember, I make the jokes around here, not you. Mind your cheek during the party; I don’t want to hear a word out of you, understood?” I nod my head. “If you’re good, I’ll give you a surprise present tonight,” the Joker smiles creepily. Yeah, I don’t think I want a ‘present.’
Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. The Joker jumps up, clapping his hands gleefully, and motions me to answer the door. A wave of anticipation hits me; what sort of people would come to such a party? I open the door expecting creatures from outer space, and am greeted by much worse. Eight burly men walk in. I recognize a few of them from the paper two days ago. None of them are extremely intimidating, but they have an air about them that suggests power. These must be mob bosses or something of the sort. All of them glance over me; most in a disturbing way but some pretending I’m not there. I realize abruptly that there are eight men and only enough food for five of them. Just when I’m about to panic, three of the eight go to stand in the living room, with their hands behind their backs. These guys must be body guards or something, thank god. The other five take a seat at the table and sit quietly, looking at the Joker.
“Good evening gentlemen!” the Joker declares, “and ladies,” he adds, motioning to the bodyguards in the other room. They glare at him but don’t dare retort. The Joker continues. “Thank you for coming to my uh, little party. As you know, I’ve almost taken control of Gotham. It’s only a matter of time before the Batman falls into one of my many traps.”
I stop listening at this point, my mind racing. What does he mean he’s “almost taken control of Gotham?” I’ve been spending so much time thinking about myself, I never stopped to ponder how everyone else is doing. For all I know, most of the city could be blown up. I always had a glimmer of hope that Batman would hear of my capture and come rescue me, but if the city needed help, he wouldn’t have time for just one person.
I catch the end of the Joker’s speech as he says, “So, let us talk about what your roles are in my little operation. But first, dinner!” I take this as my cue and quickly walk to the kitchen, returning with the plates of salmon, potatoes and asparagus. I first place a plate in front of the Joker and then go around serving each of the mob dons.
They all begin talking about Gotham and their illegal activities. I stand close to the table with a pitcher of wine, pretending to wait to refill the men’s glasses. In reality, I’m trying to gather as much information as I can. If I manage to get out of here, I could help bring the Joker down if I know his plans. I thought I was being sly about eavesdropping until I catch the Joker giving me a death glare. I give a small smile back, but he continues to glare, so I hurry back to the kitchen. He obviously knew what I was up to.
I wait about ten minutes and then peek back in, the men are in the middle of a heated argument about money. It doesn’t seem like a smart time to intervene, but many of their glasses are almost empty. I cautiously begin to creep around the table, pouring wine. Evidently, one of the mobsters doesn’t know I’m right behind him, because as he starts shouting he throws his arms up, smacking me in the face. I lose by balance and as I trip, the wine jug flies from my hands. It hits another one of the men in the chest, drenching him with wine.
He sits there, shocked for a few seconds and then stands up screaming, “Goddamn it, you clumsy bitch! Bring her here!” One of the bodyguards comes up and grabs me by the hair, dragging me to his boss. I scream out in pain and feel strands of my hair being pulled out. Suddenly, there is a gun against my head and I hear the click of the safety being removed. “Please,” I beg, “I’m sorry, it was an accident!”
“Sorry ain’t good enough!” the mobster spits. I glance up at the Joker just in time to see him drawing his own gun, pointing it at the mob boss.
“Uh, if I’m not mistaken,” the Joker growls, “that’s my property. I’d be grateful if you didn’t damage it.”
“Really?!” the mobster yells, pushing the Joker’s gun away from him. “What do you care for this girl? She’s just a stupid slut.”
“Yeah, but she’s my slut.” The Joker points his gun at the bodyguard holding me and fires. Instantly the pain is gone from my head as the man releases his grip and crumples to the ground. Blood pools out around my feet.
“Does that uh, answer your question?” the Joker asks innocently. The two other bodyguards come forward to pummel the Joker, but he just smiles.
“A-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!” he says and pulls a grenade- yes a freaking grenade- out from his pant pocket. There’s a loud gasp from around the room. The mobsters glare at the Joker while the bodyguards retreat back to the living room. The Joker begins to laugh hysterically, “Well, this puts a damper on our party!” He walks over to the stiff body and pokes it with his finger. “Yep, I think it’s time for you ladies to leave! We’ll talk later.” He motions towards the door with his gun and the mobsters file outside, taking the body with them. “Goodbye!” he calls after them, “Thank you so much for coming! Look for my announcement on the news tomorrow!”
The Joker struts back inside, a huge grin spread across his painted face. He’s obviously pleased his ‘party’ was so eventful. He comes over to where I’m still sitting on the ground and helps me up. “You ruined your dress,” he lectures, glancing at the blood drenching the side of it. “You should really take better care of the stuff I buy you, deary.” Even though it obviously wasn’t my fault, I nod in agreement.
“Thanks for, you know, not letting that guy shoot me.” I say. “But he was right; I don’t mean anything to you.”
The Joker shakes his head at me, “Do you have a death wish or something?” he asks.
“No.”
“Then stop coming up with reasons why I should kill you,” he laughs.
“That’s not wh-”
“I know, I know!” the Joker interrupts. “But still, you think you would be more wary to think before you speak.” He pats me on the head, “And besides, you already know the answer to that. The only reason I haven’t gotten rid of you is because despite how difficult you are, you’re far less annoying than most people. Congratulations!”
“Jeez thanks, I forgot about that.” I say mockingly.
“You’re welcome!” the Joker responds in the same tone, “Always happy to help!” He gives a little half-assed bow and begins to walk up stairs. “After you’re done cleaning up, come to my room before you go to bed. You owe me.” Before I can protest, he disappears upstairs.
I take as long as possible to clean up; I do not want to know what I ‘owe’ the Joker. If I’m lucky, he’ll get tired and fall asleep before I finish. In reality it does take me quit awhile to tidy up. The blood did not want to come off the ground and the party guests left a huge mess. The clock reads about midnight by the time I’m done. Quietly, I tiptoe upstairs. Crap, there’s still a light on in the Joker’s room. I don’t care what he said; there is no way I’m walking in there. Instead I sneak down the hallway to my own room and open the door. Without turning on the light, I strip my bloodied dress off so I’m just in my bra and underwear and crawl into bed.
Except there’s someone already in my bed. I squeak as strong arms wrap around my waist and hold me steady as I try to push away. “Get off me!” I scream.
The Joker puts his mouth against my ear and whispers, “Elena…little Elena…why do you never listen to me? What do I have to do to get your cooperation?” He begins to suck on my earlobe and I whimper. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” he continues, “but let’s go to my bed, it’s much more comfortable than yours.” And with that he slings me over his shoulder and starts to carry me to his room.
Now I’m not strong, but I know where the pressure points are. I grab the one on his shoulder and squeeze hard. The next moment I’m tumbling to the ground. The Joker’s maniac laughter rings through my ears as I start to scamper down the stairs. However, I’m not fast enough and the Joker catches up. He grabs me by the arm and when I hold onto the stair banister for resistance, he grabs me by the hair. I screech in pain and let go of the banister. The Joker begins to drag me up the stairs and I have to hold onto his wrist so he doesn’t pull out a chuck of my hair. When he finally releases me, I crawl to my knees and realize I’m in his room. I turn around in time to see the Joker locking his bedroom door and placing the key in a safe that’s on the nearby shelf. I start shaking as the Joker grabs my hand, leering at my half dressed form and gently leads me to his bed.
“What are you going to do to me?” I whisper. My hands won’t stop quivering and my head begins to ache from fear. The Joker doesn’t respond and grins widely. He begins to take off his clothes. First his purple jacket, followed by his tie, vest and sky blue shirt (all nicely washed by yours truly), which he all lays neatly on the chair beside his bed. I put my head in my hands as he starts to unbuckle his belt. It’s then I feel the cool sharpness of a blade against my throat. Use to this threat, I don’t flinch but simply mutter, “What?”
The Joker pokes me a little with his knife so a drop of blood undoubtedly forms. “Head up,” he hisses. I raise my head and apathetically watch as he continues to undress. The pants come off all too quickly, followed by his boxers. The Joker stands there naked in front of me, smirking at my embarrassment. His dick is long and pale and already hard, precum forming at the head.
“Open your mouth,” the Joker says between sniggers. I stare at him, my eyes wide, not believing what I hear. He raises his eyebrows as if to say “what’s the big deal?”
I get up off the bed, backing away from him. “I’m not going to suck your cock,” I stutter, almost laughing. “No way in hell.”
The Joker paces slowly after me, and says confidently, “Uh yes, yes you are.” I feel my back against a wall, trapped. The Joker continues to approach me, his dick gleaming in the pale moonlight from the window.
“You can’t make me,” I reply strongly, even though he’s stand but two feet away. The Joker chuckles, “Ah Elena, I think we both know by now that I can make you do whatever I want.”
“But…but this goes against the deal we made, remember?”
The Joker stops and looks at me oddly, “What deal?”
“Remember, you’re not aloud to touch me-”
“HA HA HA!” the Joker hoots, “THAT deal does not apply to this situation. If I remember correctly, I’m not aloud to touch your privates for a month or until you’ve kissed me, whichever comes first. There is nothing in there about you touching me.” The Joker is now right in front of me and grabs my head, forcing me into a kneeling position. His cock brushes up against my cheek and I scoff in disgust.
“If you force me to open my mouth, I will bite you” I warn.
“If you bite me, I will kill you.”
“Why are you doing this to me,” I ask wretchedly.
“Why not?” and with that he pinches my nose. I’m only able to last a few seconds, and then I have to open my mouth to breathe. The Joker shoves his cock in my mouth and down my throat. I gag, pulling my head back, trying to spit it out but he grabs the back of my head, forcing the repulsive thing in and out. I don’t dare bite down, there is no doubt he’s serious about killing me. My eyes go blurry as I struggle for oxygen and I dry heave. I can make out the form of the Joker lunging back and forth, his eyes close.
“This is the worst blow job ever,” I hear him mutter. Hah! Good! I try to keep my mouth open as wide as possible so there is minimal pleasurable friction. After a few minutes despite my effort, I feel his member begin to throb inside my mouth. A moan issues from the Joker. “Oh Elena,” I hear him whisper.
I’m not stupid; I know what’s about to happen. There is no way I’m swallowing that shit. Just as he’s about to come, I grab one of his arms, sink my nails into his flesh, claw as fiercely as I can. The Joker grunts in pain and surprise, letting go of my head and staggering back. At that moment he cums, white goo spraying forth onto the floor.
He sighs as he finishes, leaning back against a chair. ‘Maybe he will just go to bed now,’ I pray. Luck was not in my favor that night however; his eyes flash open and rage bubbles forth from them. He stalks over to me and grabs me by that arm, this time his nails biting into my skin. He deals a hard slap to my face, throwing my head back and making me woozy. In this weary state, he throws me down in front of the puddle of cum and pushes my face into it. I keep my mouth close and hold my breath as he rubs my face into the mess.
As soon as he lets go, I shoot my head up and scream. “Fuck you!”
“Oh you want to fuck me?” he growls, “Fine!” He drags me to the bed and throws me on effortlessly. I scuttle to the edge, pick up his bedside lamp and chuck it at his face. He doesn’t duck in time and the ceramic breaks against his head. He laughs as he wipes trickles of blood from over his eye. Grabbing me, he sits me on the edge of the bed and kneels down so we’re face to face. Cum drips down my nose; he wipes it off with his finger and shoves it forcefully in my mouth. A salty taste saturates my taste buds.
“Taste good?” he asks mockingly.
“I hate you.”
“You won’t forever,” he says smiling his bright red smile. “Why do you have to be so difficult, Elena?”
“If you’re asking why I don’t just give in to your demands, it’s because I actually have a backbone. I’m not going to surrender just because you scare me. There are worse things in this world than death.”
“Spoken like someone who’s not afraid of death.”
“After you’ve had depression, death almost seems like a friend,” I snip back. The Joker ponders this for a moment.
“I like it when you put up a fight,” he finally concludes, leering, “It really, really turns me on. But you do need to work on those blowjobs, it was very sub-par.”
“Hmmm, I wonder why?” I ask sarcastically.
“You just need more practice,” the Joker mocks, patting me on the leg. “You want to try now?” He motions at his cock and smiles. I frown at him in return and turn away, looking out the window. “Let’s go to bed,” he says, stretching his arms. He gets up to pull the sheets back and I walk towards the door.
“A-ta-ta-ta-ta! Where are you going?” he says sharply.
“To my room?”
“I think it’s time you switched rooms. You can sleep in here.”
I frown. “Where are you going to sleep then?”
“In here.”
“I’m not going to sleep in the same bed as you,” I protest.
“You don’t really have a choice sweetie.”
I don’t have an answer to that and walk towards the adjoining bathroom.
“Where are you going now? Come lie down and make the bed warm for me.” he says sweetly. He then can’t hold back his amusement and starts to snigger.
I ignore his laughter. “I’m going to the bathroom; I need to brush my teeth.”
“Why?”
I turn around. Is he like an idiot or something? “Because you stuffed your ugly cock in my mouth, you sick fuck!” I shout.
“No need to be nasty about it,” he jibes. “And my cock is not ugly; but you already know that.” I pay no attention to him and brush my teeth. When I’m done, he’s already in bed and pats the place next to him. I frown and walk towards to the door, jingling the knob. Nothing.
“Please,” I ask the Joker, pressing my fingers against my temple. “Can I please sleep in my own bed?”
The Joker sneers. “Come now,” he orders. I obey and lay down warily, resting my head on the pillow, praying I can fall asleep quickly. I feel his hand sneak up my leg to my thigh and his lips begin to trace my shoulder blade. I swing around to slap his face, but he catches my hand before I make contact.
“Don’t touch me!” I yell, “Haven’t you done enough shit for one night? Just let me sleep.”
“You know Elena,” the Joker hisses. “Sometimes you just need to shut that pretty little mouth of yours and learn your place. You are so goddamn loud! Maybe I should rip out your tongue…” He sits up and reaches inside his bedside table. My heart starts to beat faster as I prepare myself to see a gleaming knife. Instead, he pulls out a roll of duck tape. Ripping a piece off, he sticks it securely over my mouth. He then rips off a longer piece and grabbing my wrists, wraps it tightly around so I can’t pull my arms apart. Before I can kick him, he pushes me off the bed. I land hard on my back and shriek, though no noise can be heard through the tape.
“You happy now?” I hear the Joker snarl. “Now you don’t have to sleep by me and I can’t hear you; it’s a win-win.”
I roll over onto my stomach and manage to get to my feet. There’s a couch on the other side of the room I can sleep on, but before I can move I hear the Joker, “A-ta-ta-ta, you will sleep on the ground.” The rage is plain in his eyes. He seems as fed up as I am about this situation. I decide it’s not worth the trouble of fighting it, so I curl up the best I can on the floor and fall into a fitful sleep.
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Living in Darkness- HIATUS/editing ch 19-25