Emmeline [Joker X OC]

Chapter Twenty-Five

I want to say that this chapter comes with a trigger warning. Please feel free to skip the chapter. Topics include: sexual harassment/assault, rape, degrading name-calling, violence, etc. I have tried my best to write this chapter in the least offensive (not putting more details then nessecary) manner while staying true to the story. Please let me know if anything was offensive and I'll try my best to correct it.

I was at the kitchen in which I killed Edward. It was daylight, and I was working on chicken noodle soup, cutting some carrots. A soft song was playing in the background, and I hummed along to it.

The calendar read two years ago, and on top was a beautiful picture of Edward and I. It was our wedding night, and I smiled at the camera, while he smiled at me. The darling photo reeked of happiness and peacefulness. I looked beautiful. Happy. Safe.

The door opened, and I turned around to see two men enter the house. My entire body stiffened, and I tried to back away, but a third man caught me from behind.

"John. Adam. Please. Don't do this again. You know how Edward gets angry. Please." I croaked, my body shaking. John smiled at me, caressing my cheek. I tried to turn away, but his grabbed my chin harshly, pulling it to him.

"Oh but Emmeline, I don't care how much Edward beats you. You know, we've been best friends since the first day of high school? I can fuck you all I want, and he won't mind. You'll just be the bad-guy." he smirked, letting his hand gently run down my side, hitting my breast.

"John please. Don't do this. Let me have a break." I said, wincing as I thought about the last time he and his friends mercilessly raped me, and having Edward come back to abuse me for being a slut. That was a week ago. It was a game to them. I was just an object.

"A break? But baby, we all have needs. And you just fulfil them in the right way." he ran his hands up my thigh, and reached my core. I groaned, trying to push away from him. The man holding me pushed me onto the table, and Adam ripped off my shirt, leaving me exposed.

I wondered why I continued to fight them. They always came back for more.

My eyes watered as they, one by one, attacked me. They didn't give a break, or a care about my fragile state. They didn't care about the bruises along my body, my limited pain tolerance, the cries I tried to sustain. My pain only added to their pleasure.

They left me on the table, breathless, naked and crying. I didn't see them walk out the door, but the silence told me I was alone. Every inch of my body ached with pain. I was just a toy to them. Just an object to be used for themselves. All for that one stupid mistake I made. I was paying for it.

I picked myself up, and wobbled to the bedroom, almost falling down the stairs. I had to make myself presentable for my husband.

It was night-time, the moonlight seeping from the window. I was still in the bedroom, sitting on the bed and awaiting his arrival.

Edward walked in the room, walking poised and collected. When he stopped to look at me, he smirked and looked at my body with lust in his eyes. His jacket was thrown on his shoulder, and his tie was loosened.

"Hello, sunshine. Had a good day?" he sneered, walking towards me. I backed away slowly, but the wall behind me stopped any more movement. Fear struck the pit of my stomach, but it was a familiar feeling. This has happened many times before.

"It was good. And yours?" I whimpered in a soft, weak voice. He laughed shortly before answering.

"Well, you see, it was going just splendidly, but then I heard from John how he and his two little amigos got to fuck your brains out, once again." he hit me hard in the face, throwing me more backwards. My head hit the wall, and I cried out in pain. He smirked.

"Oh did that hurt? My bad baby. I guess you know how I feel, with you fucking everything with a penis. How's this for a measure?" he asked, kicking me in the stomach. I fell onto the floor, gasping for air. The kick stung my entire torso, unleashing all the pain tucked away in my bruises.

"Get up bitch. I'm not done with you." he roared, hoisting me up by my hair. I cried loudly as he tugged me and pushed me onto our bed.

"You little slut! How many times do I have to tell you not to do this to me!" the punches to my face become almost numb, as I taste the blood pooling in my mouth. This wasn't different from any of the times he beat me. This was almost routine.

He ripped my shirt of, the second time today. I wasn't ready to be screwed again. My body wasn't ready after this morning. But Edward didn't care. All his cared was that he punished me for being fucked, and then did it himself.

His crude acts on my body left me crying in pain. The smacks, the kicks, the forceful thrusts. But it was all typical. It was the usual. I was a rag doll. I was nothing.

After he finished with me, he pulled me under the covers and wrapped his arm around me. The softness of his touch was an act - a play.

"You should get that cut on your cheek checked out. It might need stitches. I need a good job, huh?" he laughed, while pulling my naked body closer to him. After these episodes, he became nicer - almost tolerable. It was just when John and his friend raped me that Edward turned mean and malicious. It was my fault. I had to stop being a slut.

"Sleep well, you little whore." he said, stroking my hair. I let a tear drop onto my cheek before closing my eyes into a fast and dark sleep.