Predator. Prey.

Drugged.

Joker slowly entered the room and the moment I saw his eyes all my nerves melted away. He looked so confident, so sure of himself. He must be so elated to know someone truly loves and cares for him.

As he sauntered over to his seat one of the guards revealed a cup of coffee from Starbucks in his hand and handed it to me politely,

"Bertha made a starbucks run, Dr. Quinzel. She's working overtime too."

I didn't even think twice as I grabbed it from his hands, trying to mask my annoyance. Of all the days Bertha chose to do something kind for me, she chose the day I snuck a machine gun past her desk? I forced a half smile at the two men,

"Thank you. Have a nice evening."

They hastily walked out, leaving me alone with my beautiful patient, whose confident demeanor turned dark and intense as he glared at me,

"Did everything go smoothly?"

I nodded,

"Yes, Mr. J."

I took my key card out of my side pocket and slipped it into the purse below my feet, setting it down by his side, searching his face for a sign of approval. He opened the purse with his hand, and he blessed my ears with a sinister laugh that echoed off the walls. With sudden determination, he grabbed my right hand and pulled me downward with a harsh force so I was straddling his lap, and I was still holding the iced coffee in my other hand as I giggled and kissed his nose. He nodded to the drink,

"You might want some of that, baby. It's going to be a long day."

I don't normally drink coffee, but I couldn't stand to say no to him. As I sat smiling in his lap I eagerly wrapped my lips around the straw and drank it, oblivious to the bitter taste because I was watching him watch me with those wide, radiant eyes. Every time I made him happy, I saw the man I knew he could be. Making him smile was the only thing I ever did anymore that made complete sense. He began rubbing my back, purring softly as he watched my lips move up and down on the straw.

He said something to me in his throaty voice, but the words were starting to jumble in my head. I saw flashes of color as my vision started to blur, and nausea began coursing through my stomach and made its way up to my head. I clutched my chest and moaned, hearing the ice and the coffee splash against the tile floor as the drink slipped from my hand. I laid my head on Joker's shoulder, feeling endlessly out of control.

"You're fading fast, baby. But don't worry, Daddy'll be right back."

The last thing I felt was his arms lift me out of his lap and onto the cold steel desk, and the last thing I saw was him grabbing the purse, walking out of my office, and slamming the door behind me. And the last thing I heard was rapid gunshots firing into steel walls and screaming bodies.

Then my mind went blank and my vision was filled with pitch black nothingness.