The Killing Joke

Alliance

Mildew filled my nostrils. What the hell had happened back there? The minute I'd touched him I was gone, flying through him memories, living them. All of his heists, his interrogations. I could feel everything, and it terrified me. My vision was blurry. My whole body ached. My throat burned. I felt like shit. I realized I was strapped into what used to be an electric chair with white washed walls and a cold cement floor. The cold, iron clamps bit into my skin as I struggled against it. I'd been captured. You have to be fucking kidding me. His set up was the same as mine. A table lavish with needles, knives, and other equally painful utensils.
I took in everything: the slightly rusted door and the fact that my suit plus every single one of my daggers were gone. That means someone had undressed me and touched me while I was out.
I felt a channel approaching. As black and deep as the darkest void. It was cold and emotionless filled with evil intent.
The rusted door screeched as they pushed it open agonizingly slow. His smug face came around the corner, his smudged eyeliner washing out his face. His high cheekbones is what really completed the murderous look. He looked rugged at the moment like he hadn't slept for days.
"That was quite the event back there wouldn't you say?" Silence. "Can I at least know your name so I don't have to constantly say Queen of Hearts."
I stared at him for a moment, "Elenore."
"Elenore," he rolled the sound around on his tongue, tasting it, and familiarizing the sound. "Well, Elenore, do you know why you are here today?"
I shook my head, relaxing my shoulders so he'd realize I wasn't afraid. "Well, it's because you tried to kill me, and I want to know who and why they want me dead. I'm very sure that's in that pretty little head of yours."
He smiled a vicious smile filled with straight yellow teeth. He wore all black, his pale skin and green hair vivid against the contrast. His muscles sharp and defined as he walked like a ripple in water, he was intimidating I'd give him that, but not enough so that it scared me into submission.
He picked up a filleting knife twirling it against the tip of his long skinny finger. Blood swelled to the top, " Who wants me dead?"
"I don't know," I shut down every emotion, every nerve, just like I had been taught to endure torture. He drug the knife against my chest, his gentle touch slicing my skin open with its sharp steel. I grit my teeth keeping my breathing even as he dragged it lower between my breast and down my stomach, the fabric of my shirt tore with the fabric of my flesh.
He walked back over to the table grabbing needles, "Who wants me dead?"
I closed my eyes, "I don't know."
His touch was cold as his fingers brushed my hand, the only gentle thing as he pushed the needle under my fingernail, wiggling it back and forth.
"Who wants me dead?"
"I don't know."
Another needle.
"Who wants me dead, Elenore?"
"I don't know, Joker."
Another needle.
I kept my voice dead and emotionless. I didn't let the pain register. I was floating in the void within myself not even here.
He kept pushing with knives, needles, everything. He burned me. Whipped me. Even broke three fingers, but I did not scream nor flinch. He hit me. He beat my shins in with his crowbar. He nearly did everything, and I didn't so much as scream. I could tell the pain was there, but it never reached my mind.
"Fine then. If you won't tell me who, then tell me why." I opened an eye calmly, gazing at his for a few seconds, and shutting it again.
"They have my sister," I felt his shock as I locked onto his mind.
"Have your sister?" His voice held curiosity.
"The night I met you, I came home to a trashed house. Whoever wants you dead is using my sister as a reward for your head," I opened my eyes meeting his, "I didn't want to willingly do this, but I had to in order to save her."
He sighed, "What happens if you don't kill me?"
Exhaustion washed over me with his question. I was tired of fighting, and living this life ,"They kill her."
He was quiet for moment processing this information. I pushed away his channel resting my tired eyes. Finally, the pain broke through my barrier, and my breath hitched by its power. A fell forward in my seat trying to breathe through the nausea. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. I'm pretty sure he'd broken my legs. He kneeled down in front of me, unlocking the metal that trapped me in this wicked chair.
I could see his heart speed up in his chest. I was to astonished. He undid the last cough, and we just sat there, inches from each other, waiting.
I had to find my voice, "Why?"
He began to roll up my pant sleeve to find the damage he'd done. His eyes were cast down, but I know he saw me wince, "I'm going to help you get your sister back."
"You are?" There was darkness in his eyes now. Rage, burning black and hot like the sun, slammed into me. His and mine. It swirled in a frenzy. I've been burying it these past few days, but this was it. The Joker and I were partners.
"Yes, I am, Elenore. It would be honestly helpful if you told me who's behind all of this." I sighed.
"I don't know. I honestly don't. Only one person came to me, but he's not important. Just a messenger." His eyes narrowed slightly.
The wheels in his mind turned, "If it was a messenger, why didn't you interrogate him?"
I chucked slightly letting my secrets rise to the surface of my eyes to say 'I'm a lot more complicated than you think.' He wasn't giving way, "The messenger was my old battle partner. We have blood spilt between us."
"What was his name?"
"Adrian."
His shoulders stiffened. He knew that name. I didn't care right now. I just wanted to go to sleep or something. My body ached everywhere, and every twitch of a finger was torturous.
He sighed, and leaned down. Joker put an arm around my back and under my legs lifting me bridal style out of the chair. I grimaced and fresh hot pain prickled my legs and stomach.
I just laid my bloodied head against his chest taking comfort in the warmth. I might be able to withstand torture, but that doesn't mean it doesn't take every ounce of strength I have.
He smelled like spice. He walked me down a long dark hall. My eyes grew heavy, but I latched onto his channel anyway. I was curious to see how strong it would be when we were touching. I could feel the pressure on my arms and chest where he carried. Most of all I could feel his regret. He walked slow because he was trying not to jar me to much.
My voice came out weak and tired, "When you get the chance, will you get me my suit. I have calcium shots in there. They help heal broken bones."
"You carry everything with you don't you?" I looked up at a grinning Joker.
I rolled my eyes, "Of course, I live a dangerous life."
"I think you over-exaggerate," I scoffed. He just simply chuckled knowing he was annoying me.
"Asshole," I wish I could hit him, but he'd probably drop me. I leaned back into his chest, and closed my eyes. I drifted into nightmare plagued sleep.
                *                   *                   *
I decided to give her my room at the top of the asylum. I felt bad. She'd had her parents taken away from her, and now her sister. I was pissed. She didn't deserve that, and how dare someone use family against her to get to me. Fucking cowards. Anger boiled in my veins as she slept soundly in my bed.
I gazed out at the hills awash in moon light. It was beautiful tonight and cold. I welcomed it though. I hated heat more than anything. How do I handle this? I sighed.
The bed sheets ruffled a bit. Her tender fingers brushed across my bare back. She stood up beside me. Her eyes were tired and broken, but oh how they were beautiful. "Why are you still awake?"
She leaned up against the wall. Elenore only wore a long white shirt I'd given to her. Her pale legs were decorated with tattoos. I had to grip the window seal from reaching out and touching her, "You took my bed."
"You gave it to me?"
"There were no other rooms in the Asylum. I'll find a place," she rolled her eyes, and motioned to the bed.
"C'mon," she was to beautiful. The women I'd been in bed with had had ludicrous things done to them. I couldn't. She tugged on my arm, throwing me onto the bed.
"Elenore, this is quite kinky," she jumped on top of me leaning down close. My heart hammered in my chest.
"You have this side of the bed. I have that side of the bed," she rolled off of me sliding under the covers. The absence of her warmth sent disappointment into me. I still obeyed her command.
"We'll start planning tomorrow," I felt her nod slightly. The moonlight gleamed off of her silky white hair. Every nerve in my body aching to touch it, to feel it on my skin. I wanted her, and I didn't know why.