The Killing Joke

The Hunt

I was lying in a pool of my own blood, shivering on my living room floor. It was real. I wasn't just dreaming, my sister was gone, and Adrian had been the one to take her. I clambered to my feet, every muscle aching from the hit I took a few hours ago. Darkness still penetrated the room, I walked over to the bathroom wanting to wash off the caked on blood that wasn't solely mine.
I stripped out of my suit of leather, unstrapping my weapons, placing them in the sink. I looked in the mirror only to find haunted eyes staring back at me. My lifeless white hair and the dead hazel eyes. My skin was pale, scars freckled my neck and chest from years of training. The scars got worse the lower I looked. My father sent me to train years ago, but he didn't know the training would undergo torture; torture so if I was ever captured, I would never break. Memories flitted across my vision; the bite of cold steel on raw skin, the taste of bile in my mouth from the to intense pain, and the screaming; screaming so loud I'd lose my voice, and my mouth would hang open, a ghastly wheeze coming out, terror written into the harsh lines of my body. I was glad to get away.
Warm water cascaded down my back and neck, a gift. My mind drifted to what was to come. I'd have to plan, get the Joker isolated, and take him out. I didn't want a huge target on my back. Perhaps, I could pretend to be one of his allies, and have it be known they are supposed to meet; one of his most trusted like the Riddler, another infamous villain in the darkness of Gotham. The target would be placed on his head, kill two birds with one stone. The plan was solid. I slipped a towel from the towel rack, briskly drying myself. I'd wash my suit later. I strapped myself in, and strapped on my effects. Stepping through splintered wood, and shattered glass. I jogged through the streets of Gotham, the sun still lurking behind the cloak of darkness. It was time to go pay my friend a visit. She owed me big time, and I needed a place to operate.
Her apartment building was on the very top, above the Victorian building, a greenhouse sat there. A huge sore to the eye against the worn wood and wrought iron fencing. I scaled the side, slipping through the greenhouse door. I knew I'd find Ivy here among her plants; her children. She was nicknamed Poison Ivy because she could control them; I'd seen her at her most powerful, barefoot and on fertile land. She had annihilated everything in her path; that is where we bonded, over our hunger to destroy.
"Snow, it's been to long. Come here, tell me everything that's happened," she help her arms open inviting. She'd called me Snow because of my hair. I became awash with the smell of honeysuckle.
"Adrian took Caroline. In order to get her back, I need to kill the Joker," her eyes widened in surprise. Concern and fear prickling my neck from her; images of me being tortured passed through her mind. A never ending anxiety for my safety.
"What will you do?" She was genuinely upset.
"Kill the bastard. What else would I do? They have my sister," I slapped my head in exasperation at her question. Of course, I'd go after him. It was unfortunate, yes, but this was my sisters life nonetheless.
"Elenore, he'll kill you," she began biting her nails. Her pale skin flushed with worry, those green eyes full of uncertainty.
I rolled my eyes, "So be it. I always want to die anyway." I pushed past her, and made my way to the guest bedroom where I'd finally be able to rest. 
                         *        *       *
I'd finally met the Queen of Hearts, and I couldn't get those fiery gold eyes to leave my mind. When Ricky had pulled that gun on me, I wasn't surprised, but I had been when she flew out of the air duct. She was so fast, she'd been like a soft breeze on the wind, yet a gust from a hurricane; deadly and unforgiving.
I'd felt connected to her, to the way she tipped her head back, enjoying his panic, and relishing in the feeling of his life bleeding out of him. It made her feel alive. Many assassins were being sent after me, and I was sick of it. I'd captured most of them, disfiguring their body and soul in their last moments. Cowards they were, the way they confessed everything, pleaded, begged, wept. Disgusting creatures. Ricky had been my last assassin, I needed him unfortunately and his men in order to pull off a stunt I was planning. To blow up the Gotham City Cathedral, that would surely catch the Batman's attention. I loved this game we played; cat and mouse except the mouse was smarter.
I was sitting in my office with blueprints sitting strewn about all over the great, deep red mahogany desk. I was still in my clothes from last night. A small breeze blew across my face, my hand crept towards my pistol.
"Who are you?" My fingers brushed the cold grip.
"A messenger," a tall man, not less than 24 stepped from the shadows, a long scar stretching across his face and throat,"The Queen of Hearts is coming for you. Don't let her get you alone."
I quirked an eyebrow at the figure dressed in black, " Oh? And how would you know?"
I began twisting the ring on my tattooed fingers, "Let's just say we're good friends. If I were you, I'd kill her first."
"Why are you telling me this?" I was truly intrigued. A battle against the Empress herself? Not even the Batman was as magnificent and deadly as she.
"Because a man of your stature should have a chance to survive," he turned to leave, hesitating, "Do you know why they call her the Queen of Hearts?"
Of course I did, "Its because of the card she leaves when she's killed."
Did he think I was an idiot? "No, I gave her that name myself. She can feel emotions. So I'll give you a little advice. Don't let her feel your fear because by then you've already lost. She loves it. She feeds off of it."
I leaned back in my cushioned chair, "Does she have any weaknesses?" His eyes lit up with something that seemed like pride.
"No, and I wish you good luck, Joker. She's been undefeated for 13 years. I'm very sure she will remain that way." He took his leave slipping through the door. It looks like whoever wants me dead has certainly gotten desperate. I wasn't afraid of death. Hell, it turned me on, but the thought of fighting her made me feel something darker. Hunger for a good battle, the lust for chaos, the thirst for blood, and her; I wanted her. I wanted her as my partner, and I wanted her to tear down this goddamn city with me. The thing was I wanted her blood, her battle, and our chaos. People would die. People would break, but I wanted to break her; to conquer the Queen. Chills rolled down my back, she'd be after me within the next 24 hours. I needed to plan, and prepare for the daughter of death before she showed up at my door.