(UNDERGOING REWRITE) Crime & Chaos [ ᴊᴏᴋᴇʀ ]

Chapter 7: Lovely Company

Crime & Chaos

" LOVELY COMPANY "

by alwaysgeia

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The sadist wants not only complete control and compliance; he wants his victim to feel fear. It is this fear that turns him on. Sexual sadists tend to relate to people in terms of power versus affection. In general, they commit more violent crimes than other offenders and are more aggressive.

It was 1 a.m. Clarice had been out cold for about 20 minutes and Maggie had finally returned from wherever she was, crying hysterically.

"He's terrifying in person," she stuttered, "fucking terrifying."

Julie looked at her, feeling resentful. "Where were you?"

"I... I was in the bathroom. I got scared." Her eyes filled with tears again. Julie sighed, chewing her cheek. She just nodded.

*

Once she got home, she texted Clarice to make sure she was okay, threw her dress into the wardrobe and grabbed her laptop. Inspiration struck her in the strangest of situations and times. It was 2 am and her thoughts drifted to the Joker. If he hadn't been maimed, he'd be good-looking. Handsome, even. I am disgusting. He could've stuck a knife in my throat without blinking at the party. How did he end up that way? she wondered. And wonder she did. Biting her lip, she searched mouth scars. Only one or two images showed what she was looking for.

Clicking her tongue, she tapped the keyboard.

'Mouth to ear scars.'

"Here we go..." She read a definition from Wikipedia.

'A Glasgow smile, or a Cheshire grin, is a wound caused by cutting the corners of a victim's mouth up to the ears leaving a scar in the shape of a smile. This historically has been used as an extreme, illegal form of torture on prisoners of war. Special Forces operators behind enemy lines are exponentially more likely to be tortured or mistreated, as their intel comes from the top and could be vital for opposing forces.'

She muttered in disbelief. "What? A soldier?"

After an hour or so of researching the origins of a Glasgow smile, she concluded that he could've been a soldier. An ex-soldier that survived explosions or life-threatening situations on the battlefield.

"Bloody hell." Typing away on her keyboard, she subconsciously licked the corners of her mouth, imagining what it would feel like to have jagged scars lined up against each side of her mouth. This was all hypothetical. Nothing that pointed to the real origins of his scars. Maybe he did do it to himself. She got up and walked to the bathroom, the laptop still in hand. She had found an intriguing article and didn't want to put it down. What she had failed to notice was the window slowly opening.

She brushed her teeth, washed her face and looked at herself in the mirror. She reached her hand to her eyes and grazed her finger over her heavy blue eyebags. With a sigh, she propped her laptop on her arm and turned around.

A bang from the window, followed by a groan, made her freeze. She quietly walked over to her bedroom door and hid behind it. She peeked around it and saw nothing. Was there someone in her room or was she sleep-deprived? She didn't know and didn't want to.

Julie counted her breaths, trying to control her frantic breathing. Reaching out a shaking hand, she placed it upon the doorknob and twisted it, listening to the eerie creak of wood against wood. Nothing. Nothing and no one was in there. The bed covers were still creased and the carpet... Wait. The carpet had a shoe print. She was barefoot.