Black Eyes

Chapter 6: Curiousity Killed the Cat

Lucky for me I didn't run into my dad while leaving the manor. Alfred surprisingly was never around either despite it being his job. Not that I was really sneaking out, but I suppose leaving at 9PM was pretty suspicious.

I had to walk to the bus stop which was about a 25 minute walk. If I had my bus pass it would've taken only 5 minutes. Although after what had happened last night, I may stay away from buses for a while.

As I got closer and closer to my destination, I realised exactly what ot was that I was doing. Was I really going to meet the Joker willingly at the bus stop? I stopped walking and stood there for a moment, considering my options. He didn't know where I lived or who I was. Could he really find me if I didn't show up?

I thought about my psychology classes I took at Williams and all of the things we learned about in the criminal way of thinking. There are many types of criminals, though the ones most common are the stupid ones who just do on impulse and others who are smart enough to devise a plan of attack and strategy.

My feet started to move again when I thought about what category the Joker was in. Criminals like him were more then just smart; they were clever. Clever enough to keep the detectives guessing and the crimes continuing. Clever enough to outsmart so many. Eventually they'd get caught, but there were really good ones, like our beloved Jack the Ripper (or maybe he was just lucky), who outwitted everyone to the very end. Why would they waste their lives playing with the consequences of the law?

My thoughts returned to the Joker. Was he a madman or a genius? Either way I knew he would find me if he really wanted to. He already knew where I went to school.

The bus stop was in sight. My heart pounded so hard it ached. I couldn't believe I was doing this. One wrong move and he would kill me. As a matter of fact, I was sure that I was walking to my grave and it was all my fault for being a blabber mouth.

Okay okay, just play it cool like I did last night and it'll all be okay.

I didn't see anyone yet and it was really cold. Gotham produced its own violent chill in the winters. Still, I couldn't change the fact that my jacket was barely keeping me warm.

"You, uh, seem cold, Doc." His now familiar voice sent shivers down my spine. Suddenly the temperature didn't seem so cold anymore. I twisted my body to face the direction at which his voice came. There he stood in the shadows, but I could still tell he was smiling at me.

"Its below freezing out, yes I'm cold." Again I sarcastically replied to a psychotic criminal. I was really pushing my luck.

"You know, you're a little spit ball aren't you? Some sass and attitude all stirred up in one big pot. Perhaps you're the one in need of some, um, help." He popped the "p" as he stepped into the light. His face paint looked quite fresh and in good shape compared to last night.

I refrained from a gasp that so desperately wanted to escape my lips. Instead I stood my ground and observed his green and purple attire. I actually kinda digged the green vest. I was a sucker for vests.

I decided to reply simply. "Aren't we all?"

"I believe we all have some sort of darkness wanting to get out and the longer we try to, uh, hold it in..." He drawled the "n" as he twirled his finger in the air and chewed on the inside of his mouth for a quick second. "...the more madness consumes us." His voice got darker as he took another step forward.

I stood my ground. "But you don't hold it in, do you? At least, on the surface you don't. No one truly knows exactly why you are the way you are." I suddenly regretted my words as his face almost seemed to create its own shadows.

The Joker took another step forward until he was right in front of me, our noses almost touching. His hand reached up to my face as I flinched, failing to hide how scared I truly was. He moved a strand of hair away and followed it down to the tip, where he began playing with my deep brown and red hair, twirling the strands between his gloved fingers. "Then tell me doc," He started, breathing into my face. His scent was still the same: mint and alcohol. "What exactly am I to you?"

I was struck by his question. I didn't think he cared at all what anyone thought of who he was, especially some random girl like me. Regardless, I had to answer his question, but truly thinking about what to say was difficult. Upon talking to him I already was becoming aware of his second personality, the one you don't see when he's advertising himself to Gotham city.

He was still a criminal. Someone who enjoyed killing and making a game of gambling with people's lives as if they were toys. He was thirsty for chaos and taking on the Batman. Those were his two obsessions. Seeing both sides already had me conflicted, but it was then that I realised I knew the answer to his question the moment we began our conversation. He was two in one. No matter how many personalities he had he was still the same person.

"A criminal mastermind." I shrugged my shoulders, trying to respond as casually as possible. "A genius, an agent of chaos, someone with a crazy obsession-" He stopped me from talking by pressing a finger to my lips.

I batted it away in disgust. Who knows where that glove had been? He tiredly looked at me, almost with a bored expression on his face and said darkly, "I'm. Not. Crazy."

"I never said you were." He opened his mouth to say something and followed it by a confused expression.

"I'm not?"

"You have many reasons for what you do, despite telling people otherwise. Saying you don't have a reason is a reason- you're having fun. Though I suppose in your eyes you're doing a favor for people. In your story, you're the good guy. Its just the way that the human brain works. What you believe is truth." I paused, letting the words sink in. "So in the end we all wonder, what is the real truth? What is crossing the line and who gets to draw it in the first place? Amd seriously, why am I here and not dead, Joker?" My own words took me aback. I was talking to him as if he were a friend and someone I could trust and yet I knew he was far from both of those things. Was I just really good at this; a natural? The fact that I could stand here and critique the Joker and his motives, to be able to dissect and try to read his mind right in front of him... Was this what Dr. Crane saw in me or was something far worse happening here?

The Joker smiled a huge smile which was filled with amusement. He chuckled a bit before speaking. "Now, you, dollface, have proven to be something quite useful." He spoke to me in a trance, attempting to stroke my cheek but I pulled my face away. "When I met you last night I, uh, saw potential." He hissed into my ear and grabbed my arm, beginning to drag me slowly down the sidewalk. "So, I thought, heck, she's got looks and brains, plus the sass was just entertaining. I like it when they, uh, fight back." He began to speak more excitedly while taking longer strides. I struggled to keep up with his firm grip on my arm. "The fact that you came tonight proves one thing: you're curious. You're intrigued by me. You could've stayed home all safe and snug by your fireplace but you didn't. And why? Because deep down you wanted to come."

My eyes widened in horror at his words. My God he's right. "Where are we going?" I tried to stop him but he tugged right along.

"You're not in any position to be asking questions, sweetheart."

We walked up to a black van as the Joker dug around in his pockets. After a second he pulled out a ring of keys and jingled them at me before finding the one to the van.

My heart beat faster then ever. Was he intending for me to get into a van with him? There was no way I was going anywhere with this man- this clown- this psychopath! I almost lost sight of that and this scared me the most.

We wasn't a genius, Iris. He really was crazy; he was a psychopath. I started to back away slowly when he found the right key and unlocked the passenger side, opening the door wide. It took him a short second to see that I wasn't beside him.

He looked up at me and smiled. That smile was not some light gesture to shrug off. It was something filled with many motives, dark motives. I turned on my heel and booked it down the street.

I had made a terrible mistake.