Like A Shadow In Gotham | Jeremiah Valeska/Joker

Chapter 7 - Falling for Her

Three days now.

Three days I had been made to pretend to be a guest at this godforsaken place. Okay, it wasn't that bad - It was clean, the kitchen was stocked with all kinds of meats, vegetables and he even had beer in his fridge. But the fact that I was back under the same roof with Joker made me cringe internally.

The entire point of running away from my previous life was to take revenge on him. The plan definitely wasn't working. Here I was, feeling hopelessly horny all the time while he would just fuck his painted Barbie doll in the adjacent room.

Maybe, he had forgotten about my existence - maybe he had forgotten that I was here too.

I twisted my neck at a weird angle due to the wound on my shoulder as I lay on my bed on my side, my body propped up with my left hand while my other hand was working to turn the pages of a magazine.

Boring. But it was better than doing nothing and staring at the dull walls.

I had no idea what time of the day it was. There was no window in the room, just a small opening near the roof, that too, all boarded up.

I sat up in bed, my feet dangling against the edge as I struggled to slide them into the slippers, which probably belonged to him. I couldn't stop wondering if Bruce was back, from being Batman, the busy vigilante. And if he was back, did he know that I was missing? What about Jason? Lazily, I hopped out of bed and tiptoed my way to the door, Joker didn't need to keep it locked, I had been pretty well behaved since the past three days, though I knew it that deep down, he found it really unnerving, that I wasn't bat shit scared of him, infact, I wasn't scared of him at all.

This bothered him.

The door, as usual, was unlocked. I slid out through the opening that I had created by partially pulling the door inwards, until I was tiptoeing down the dark hallway that was illuminated by just a single bulb in the end, that too, a flickering bulb which would go out any second.

I could feel a frown form on my forehead, since when was Joker so reckless? The house was practically empty - he might have been out somewhere robbing a few banks or dealing with the mob, like I cared, but he never left a prisoner alone, without someone to check over her. The apartment was quiet.

I couldn't help but take slow steps towards the living room, that was engulfed in darkness, the floorboards creaking with every step that I took. When I reached the living room, it hit me, that I wasn't alone - I could hear the sound of snoring and muffled breaths from within the room, and a really strong smell of liquor, making me want to gag. Joker's men were mostly sprawled up in here, some on the couch, some on the carpeted floor; I even tripped on somebody's foot.

The room adjacent to the living room was the kitchen, that too was engulfed in darkness. I tiptoed into the kitchen, making my way to the fridge, my left hand plastered over my hip while I used my other hand to open the door of the fridge, illuminating the kitchen a little. I bent over slightly, as my fingers and my eyes began to scan the contents of it, fuck I was starving. I finally settled on the turkey sandwich. Good thing it was neatly wrapped in a plastic pouch.

Holding the sandwich in my hand, any normal person right now would prefer to have a weapon in their hand, but I was cool with having a turkey sandwich. You can't really plan an escape from a sociopath on an empty stomach, can you ? - I tiptoed back into the living room, careful not to stub my toe against a piece of furniture because that fucking hurt like hell.

I could see the front door, not literally, in the darkness that clouded around me, but I had seen it many times, it was just a few steps away. I just had to make it to the door, without getting caught.