Harleen is burning.
Her skin is peeling off, her corneas are filling with acid, and her mouth tastes like gasoline.
And then suddenly-
Him.
It was like a poem.
Him him him.
His name is like a song, and yet she doesn't know it.
"What have you done to me?"
She feels his hands slide around her back, lifting her from a slow, painful death.
The first thing she sees in her dream if heaven is bright green hair and a set of silver teeth.
He's smiling at her.
She's made him happy.
And when he's happy, she must be happy also.
Her face breaks into a smile, and she raises a hand from the liquid, running a finger across his bleached cheekbone.
She's not sure when he starts laughing, but suddenly his head is back and he's letting out the most wonderful sound she's ever heard, and so she has to laugh too.
There they are, cackling in a pool of acid, and she questionins her sanity. Then her mind questions the insanity of her sanity, and why she ever wanted it in the first place.
Ha ha ha ha!
And then the green-haired man is leaning down, his breath barely skimming the edge of her neck, and she hears his voice.
When he withdraws, Harleen is dead.
Her body is left to sink, and to be eaten alive.
In her place is Harley Quinn, a corrupted soul who knows no limits to her consciousness.
Except for him.
