Inside the stolen police car, my head slowly started to clear. Though I was pretty sure the blast and a blow to my head from the south wall had given me a slight concussion. Maybe that was why it was so hard for me to regain my sight and sense of what was happening. It was not until the siren of the stolen car started to ring in my ears. The Joker had rolled down the window. I furrowed my brows in frustration, feeling a migraine start to occur at the loud sound of the wind rushing by the car. I wanted to push him out of the window and off of the side of a cliff. But of course, this was not realistic. The driver would probably kill me if I did (though I was sure I could take on such an amateur). Also, there were no cliffs around.
And something else.
A part of me had begun to wonder- while back in the hospital- if killing him would give him the satisfaction I wanted. I no longer thought so. Besides, I was sure that part of the Joker wanted to die, and the last thing I was going to give him was what he wanted. So pushing him over a cliff was out of the question.
“Sometimes I wonder why you stay in that apartment, Princess.”
I turned to see the Joker back inside the car with the window rolled back up. That was one of the most random things he could have said, and it made me listen. “Why?”
He shrugged while twirling the cup of his gun and loading more bullets into the empty slots. “Because I know where you are. Most people would have packed up and shipped out. I don’t let many people live, you know.”
I looked away again, out the window. “Maybe it’s because I’m not afraid of you.”
He surprised me by laughing hysterically. “Okay,” he said, in between chuckles. “What a little liar you are, Princess.” He pressed the clip back into the gun and held it in his lap, pointed at me. “We go over one bump, and I accidentally pull this trigger; Gotham has one less citizen to worry about.”
I eyed both him and the gun suspiciously and now said nothing. I saw him frown at me when I gave no response, but what shocked me the most was that he immediately pulled the trigger.
The bullet shattered the window in a spot where my head had been resting seconds earlier. I yelped and pushed away from the window, unknowingly moving even closer to the Joker. I flicked my wide eyes toward him. “What the hell was that for?” I shouted.
He shrugged. “To prove a point.” He did not look at me this time, only straight ahead, remaining in silence until the car pulled up outside a different apartment building than I remembered. “Two-fifty-fifty-second Street,” he said to the driver. “Make sure the job is done.”
I was confused but let him yank me out of the car anyway. “What’s on Two-fifty-fifty-second Street?” I asked, curious.
“Oh, nothing for you to be concerned about, Princess,” he sang. I frowned; why had I even thought he was going to tell me?
Once inside the building, he dragged me into the elevator and jabbed the button with the gun in his hand. I sighed, knowing I had several chances to get away. However the gun still intimidated me. I had a feeling that if the Joker really intended to kill me, he would not miss. And if I ran, then he would have the intention of killing me. I looked up at the elevator’s camera, wondering if anyone was watching on the other side. I imagined that if there were, the Joker would have shot the lens or something. I used my thoughts as a distraction from the current situation. A madman was holding a gun to my waist while we stood in an elevator. Alone.
* * *
He could feel her start to shake. That was good. She was afraid. She was controllable. Once the elevator doors opened, he pulled her out and looked around. It was not as if an abandoned building would suddenly become flooded with people while he was out, but one never knew.
