Hello Joker, Won't You Play My Game?

Believing in Hatred

-Joker-

I hate it. 

I hate them all. 

I hate our society. People. Men. Women. 

I hated everything that made the world go round and everything that makes it stop. I hate myself too. 

But it makes me laugh, so in turn, I love it. 

It was all beautiful enough to drive me insane but in order to enjoy it, I needed power. 

I peeled an apple as I sat on top of the grand bed, looking over at the unconscious King I had laid beside me as I stabbed a slice with my knife and brought it to my lips. How easy would it have been if I had used the knife differently in winning this game? Yet instead I settled for the fruit for one reason alone. 

I saw first-hand how power was passed and grabbed. My father was once a ruler who didn't know how to command and in his dying days, I sat on his throne and showed him how it was done. My mother grieved over him, begging God to take away her pain so I slit her throat, showing her which God she should have been begging. 

What I learnt from her though wasn't how to grieve or beg, it was the look she had given God as she did. I watched her eyes fill with pleasurable insanity, grin wide and I knew that was the face I was supposed to carry. And in the end, she died with a smile on her face. 

When Alexander gave me the proposal with the same eyes as my mother, I couldn't help but fall for them. Insanity. That wasn't something you found easily, not even in the countless other leaders I had tied and twisted into nothing.  

I realised that I hated the world because it was all so simple. People chased beauty. Whether that was a man chasing a beautiful woman or a woman chasing a beautiful future. It was romantic in a way so that was what I became. 

I believed in love as, without it, people wouldn't have the energy to chase. And chase they did when I hung it in front of them. Perhaps one day karma will strip me of all I have the same way, all I can hope is that, when he did, he enjoyed the view. 

If I killed Alexander now, he filled his mansion with men who would swarm as soon as I opened the door, ready to humble me. Magic may be a skill of mine but miracles were not. Even the poison I had laced in my scentless perfume, spayed on only my wrist, would normally take effect within minutes of inhalation for those who weren't immune to it like I was and yet it seemed like he had his skills too. 

If only I could witness his intelligence a bit more though. It disappointed me when he decided to use a sniper as if a hundred others hadn't tried that method. Their atmosphere gave off a smell to me now, blood and lead mixed together so finding the dark figure among the crowd was easy, easier to dodge when he was alone because his only target could have only been me. He would have been successful too if he aimed for my heart instead of my head but that was a gamble I was more than delighted to take. 

He wasn't the only one I noticed though, of course. The only man who didn't come in to enjoy the dinner was the assassin waiting for me in my solitude, so I gave him just that. Putting the last of my vodka in my mouth, I walked straight to my target who at first was well hidden until he came out, knife in hand, ready to stab me from behind but just as he did, I stepped beside, grabbing his wrist and twisting him around, knocking him onto the ground until he knelt in front of me. 

He had struggled quite a bit but every assassin knew that if they were caught, they had failed. 

I put a hand into his chest pocket and found a lighter. He looked at me with a mix of anger and confusion, yelling words that I didn't bother listening to, I couldn't reply either if I wanted to, my mouth was full after all. Instead, I smiled down at him in satisfaction, lighting a flame. I loved watching it dance, both the flame and the burning man as I spread the alcohol towards the flame, amassing a silent explosion on the other end. 

Beside me, Alexander started to groan, letting me know it was time to start the show again. 

I placed my half-eaten apple and knife on the table beside me and laid down more comfortably next to him, my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat playing out to me. 

He must have woken up not too long after since his hand put itself on top of my head, intertwining his fingers with my hair softly. It surprised me slightly. I was used to fear and anger at this stage and yet he was being gentle. 

"Joker," He called, his voice sounding as if it had just woken from a great night's sleep. I envied that but also wanted to hear more of it. 

"Yes, Alexander?"

I lifted my head slightly and looked up at him in time for him to turn his gaze from the ceiling back into my own eyes. 

Suddenly he grabbed my wrist and flipped us around so he was on top of me, looking further down at me before leaning close to my ear. "Quite the risk leaving a knife so close to me isn't it?" He says, making me smirk. 

"Is it?" I asked, knowing well that with my hand trapped above my head, it definitely was but-

He moved his head lower now so it was close to my neck before answering my question, "I could use it to slice this beautiful neck of yours but," he paused, letting a smirk land on his face, "I wouldn't want to leave our guests unsatisfied," Instinctively I moved my head to give him more access to my neck when I felt his breath against it. 

The move seemed to please him since he moved in and gave my neck a kiss. 

A breath left my lips and he used that as a sign to bite the same place right after as if telling me that pleasure wasn't what he was going to give me but to relieve me of feeling threatened, he sucked on the skin gently, leaving one last kiss before standing. 

What a tease. 

I watched him as he took my knife with a bit of apple still left on it. He put the slice into his mouth before turning to me and extending the knife to me. 

With a satisfied smile, I took it and licked where his lips had touched not a moment ago. 

I should have known. 

I took his hand after that and stood from the bed myself. 

I should have known that he wasn't like the rest. 

Once again, we left a room hand in hand but this time, with a glance at a mirror I noticed that I had left with a mark on my neck. His shackle, letting everyone know as we danced that I wasn't going to leave this mansion of his. 

At least, not alive. 

Perfect. 

He was perfect.