𝔾𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤 ℍ𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 ; ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕖𝕪 ℚ𝕦𝕚𝕟𝕟

♦️ 3 ♦️

"Sometimes you gotta accept the fact that certain things will never go back to how they used to be."

Y/n's POV:

The clock on my bedside read three fifteen in bright red letters, and slapped the pillow of my face, the fluffiness gone due to having it for years. I groaned into the pillow, pushing it next to me before swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, slipping my slippers on my feet before shuffling groggily into the kitchen.

I made the coffee and waited for enough to be made so I grabbed a cup, adding sugar and creamer before taking a sip, the warmth sliding down my throat. An ounce of life seemed to awake inside of me as I took another sip, thankful for the small pick me up at this ungodly hour. There was no way I was going to go back to sleep.

The door to my office creaked open and I plopped down in the office chair, setting my steaming cup of coffee down on the oak desk before powering my laptop on.

I opened the word document and began typing, the words clicking together.

Harleen Quinzel hears/talks to the voices in her head. Appears to have mild signs of Schizophrenia and borderline paranoia.

Great, I thought to myself, you figured something out that most people already knew. This information was insanely obvious. I'm sure Amanda could put two and two together.

I sighed and leaned back in the chair, taking another sip of my cup of coffee. I was beginning to get down on myself, groaning under my breath as I stared at the words I had just typed on the screen.

God, what was I thinking trying to crack this case? Harley Quinn could really make my career take off, making all the late night study sessions and overdue library books, not to mention the amount of money I spent to put myself through college, seemingly worth it.

Only if I cracked the case of course. If I didn't, well then this all meant nothing.

Harleen Quinzel is outgoing, attention seeking and acts out randomly.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard after I finished typing my sentence. My eyes drifted towards the little clock in the bottom right side of my computer, seeing it was five minutes to four.

The room was dark and a woman's maniacal laughter echoed off the walls. I shivered, running my hands up and down my arms to try and create even the slightest bit of warmth.

"She is cute, isn't she?" Harley's voice echoed off the walls, pounding inside of my head.

"Harley?!" I called out, hearing nothing but the own echo of my voice.

"Enjoy the show, sugar." Harley cackled and the lights hummed on, my eyes squinting due to the harshness of the fluorescence.

I backed up quickly, slipping and landing on my ass as the bodies of the guards men littered the floor, bullets embedded through the chest armor. Their blood flowed like a river towards me, staining the bottom of my shoes.

I flinched when my hands touched the warm liquid, clambering to my feet with shaky limbs. I tried to wipe the blood off, but I couldn't get rid of the stain they left on my palms.

The light over Harley's cage went off and my eyes snapped towards the woman who snagged on her ropes, every inch of her was covered in blood while she dangled upside down. The inmate cackled, spinning herself around as she popped off the last round of bullets in the pistol.

"You're losing your mind, sugar. I can tell." Harley smirked at me.

I shot up with a gasp of hair, my coffee spilling all over me and my desk and I shot up, stripping off my shirt to soak up the liquid before it could damage my computer. When it was done, I fell back into the chair to try and catch my breath.