Monsters

Hey y'all, I am SOOO sorry this has taken me ages to write, I've had a manic last few weeks and had a bit of difficulty with where I wanted the story to go. Thanks a million for all the comments though, they made me that much more determined to get my arse in to gear and finish the next few chapters. I'll hopefully have the next chapter on in a couple of days :D. Your comments are wonderful so keep telling me what i'm doing right (if anything). ENJOY!

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Hurt rose like a tide as consciousness came, a trickle of pain that turned into a rushing swell of it as she was wrenched into wakefulness. She shot backwards away from the pain before she had even fully opened her eyes, arms and legs flailing as she lurched away.

‘Hey calm down lady, it’s all right. Just calm down all right?’

Her gaze focused on a young man crouching a few feet from her, holding a handful of bloody tissues. As if to remind her, a throb of pain surged through her hip. Flashing a glance down, she saw a gaping hole had been cut into the already shredded dress she was wearing, and that her hip had been clumsily but effectively bandaged. Her eyes came up again to stare at the man.

‘Who the fuck are you?’ she croaked through a surprisingly dry throat. A loud tut reverberated from off to her left, and Sally didn’t know if she was relieved or filled with dread.

‘I told you she wouldn’t be grateful.’ Joker purred sardonically, pacing slowly around on the periphery of her vision.

Stiffly Sally inched herself round to the end of the mattress, keeping a wary eye on the boy near her until the last minute. She recoiled, wincing as her tender hand met her mattress, more expectant of pain that actually experiencing it. She noted as she tentatively wriggled her fingers that her hand had been bandaged. She shot the boy another cautious glare before manoeuvring herself around gingerly, her entire body demanding attention for individual aches and agonies.

Scattered around the Joker were the cons that had followed, approximately twenty of them. Several of them smoked, a few had bottles of beer. Ludicrous laughter filled Sally, but she kept it down. The scavengers had clearly made themselves comfortable. It was almost like waking up in the middle of a thug sleepover.

The Joker had already lost interest in her wakefulness and had turned back round to address his audience. ‘As I was saying....’

The fog in her mind had not quite relented and she watched the swing of his coat as he turned, the click of his shoes. Quiet fascination filled her, that this..... thing, man, whatever he was, in front of her, had only hours ago been fucking her against a sink as their blood mixed through their lacerated fingertips. It seemed absurd, when even the idea of touching him right now felt like an impossibility, simply incomprehensible. She caught the scent of food, ripping her from her idle thoughts, and her stomach growled audibly. Looking round she found the boy was waving a burger under her nose. She snatched it away and began ravenously consuming it, listening and watching all the while.

‘..... Money buys power buys guns, buys gasoline, buys anarchy. Pick your preference. But we all know that a good robbery requires firearms. Now I once knew a.... very ac-com-modating man with a looooot of fire power. Sadly we had a....’ Joker idly scratched his grimy head with the tip of his knife, gesticulating vaguely.

‘.... Parting of the ways. So next stop is all the unsavoury fellows of this town who can give us what we need.’

‘I know a guy,’ a man volunteered, his voice heavily accented. ‘Yentov. I was serving twenty though, haven’t seen him in three years. Might be dead for all I know.’

‘He’s not dead.’

Sally knew how unwise it was to involve herself, aware as she had been her whole life, that the more invisible she was the better for her things would end up. She blamed it on the sleep cobwebs on her brain and tried not to tense as attention turned to her once more. Self-preservation twitched like a pulsepoint underneath her skin as she felt those eyes on her, refusing to look at the Joker. Instead she explained herself. ‘Girl on my street works him. I saw him a few weeks back.’

Joker span slowly to face her, eyes evaluating.

‘Sally Sally Sally. When will your uses end?’ he mused, stalking over before dragging her to her feet by the forearm, pulling her towards the group of men. Her heart jump-started and stayed at a break neck speed even as he nearly wrenched her arm from its socket.

‘This, Gentlemen, is Sally. Say Hello Sally!’ he instructed cheerily, as if introducing a new kid to pre-school.

Sally self-consciously tried to hold the front of the ripped dress together over her lacy bra, hot shame and anger flooding her, starting at her ears and spreading down her throat. She had been naked in front of God only knew how many men – their lascivious looks did not bother her. But this semi-nakedness, this tattered clothing revealed far more of what had gone on behind closed doors, than being completely exposed possibly could. As she was, she was a walking testament to everything that had happened between her and.... him.... last night. She knew what she looked like – bandaged and bloodied, smeared with face paint, bruised and blatantly ravaged.

The pregnant uneasy silence stretched and Sally shot a glance around the massed faces. They all avoided her gaze, and realisation hit her like a shotgun to the stomach.

They were afraid of her. More precisely they were afraid of what these bruises, these markings of face paint all over her body, meant. They thought it meant that she was his, and that this meant that she was dangerous, and this meant that she was crazy. Contamination of power, she thought childishly.

She was standing nearly naked in front of them and none of them would dare look at her because she was clothed in the Joker’s sweat and paint. She was wearing the wounds of a fight which they couldn’t possibly understand.

He had released her arm and lightly swatted her to one side, continuing his spiel. ‘Soooo.... Yentov. Everybody loves a Russian. Where do we find him?’

‘He owns a nightclub in The Narrows. Least he did three years ago....’

‘Third on Wiltshire. Blue lights outside.’ Interrupted Sally with a calm meticulous precision as she sashayed over to the man she had just cut short, sliding a cigarette from his coat pocket. Her giddy insides trembled as he glared but did nothing, a nearby man even going so far as to proffer a light for her. Delirious, narcotic power flooded her senses like a sexual thrill.

She had never been feared before, for any reason. Hell, she had relied on men NOT being afraid of her to ply her trade, to make her kill. Men did not trust women they were afraid of, and she could not get close enough to kill when they did not want her, trust her, attempt to overpower her and find themselves lacking. They only realised they should be afraid in the last few seconds of their life, when it was her that was overpowering them, making them bleed out as she watched. She felt a knowledge blossoming in her head, that she had been being oh-so-foolish, in thinking that she needed to play the victim in order to gain a victim. Something, something contrary to her very nature of self-preservation, was pulsating and vibrating inside her stomach. A quietly contained.... recklessness.

‘Hmmmmm... Night-clubs.....’ Joker groaned in a vague shudder, twisting his mouth around his teeth in distaste.

She tugged a beer bottle from yet another of the men’s grips, downing it in several long pulls, neck thrown back in a long creamy arc as the men determinedly looked at anything but her. It did nothing to decelerate this heady euphoria, and she dropped the bottle carelessly back down on the man’s lap. She scanned her eyes slowly across all of their faces, daring one of them to look back, to make eye contact. None of them would. A giggle lurched out of her as she felt the Joker’s arm loop around her throat, tight enough to silence, but not to choke.

‘Now now sweetie, stop trying to intimidate the Help.’ He purred warningly, his breath tickling the spot just behind her ear, red hot and yet still capable of bringing her out in goosebumps.

He let her go just as suddenly as he had gripped her and she swayed to remain upright, turning to face him and for only a second seeing a look in his eye that reminded her all too clearly, that this was the man who had fucked her against a sink only hours previously. Then the look was gone as he mustered the men in to motion and she was left shuddering with reaction, wakened only by the quiet coughing behind her minutes later as the room began to empty.

She turned and looked at the boy who had fixed up her wounds, who was offering her a coat. His coat, she would guess. She shrugged it on and gave him another long look, a wry smile creeping across her face. He didn’t look afraid of her. Irritation, like a fly buzzing around the soaring thrills underneath her skin, crept in. He looked sorry for her.

‘So what’s your name Mr Helpful?’

‘Derek.’

‘Derek. Pleasure Derek, although I’d stop being so nice to me. I don’t know how to deal with people who are nice to me.’

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The van they all piled in to barely even moved, it was such a heap of junk. Sally presumed one of the boys had salvaged it and tinkered it into a vague impression of a functioning vehicle. After several lurching starts they finally juddered down the road, and towards the rest of Gotham, each pothole rattling them sufficiently that heads met walls and people slid off seats. Joker’s laughter grew more high-pitched with each jolt, reaching fever-pitch when Sally slammed in to the back of his seat.

‘Fuck this...’ Sally grumbled under her breath, scrambling over the frame of the seats, the hem of her dress tearing. The car gave another jolt and she landed unceremoniously across Joker’s lap.

‘AHAHEHOHAHAHAAA, oooh well Sally, how foooooorward of you.’ He drawled in between giggles, shoving her upright so forcefully he only succeeded in sending her toppling the other way, which made him laugh all the harder. He finally secured her in position by gripping a gloved hand firmly around the back of her neck like she was an errant kitten. She felt a wave of his body heat and her heart was suddenly pounding, the bruises and cuts on her tingling. She cursed her brain and body that demanded she get closer to him only to shrink in fear when he actually touched her. She couldn’t call it fear anymore though, not really. It was beyond fear.

Sensing her reaction, as if he could smell it off her, he turned and raked his gaze up and down her, blackened eyes contemplative before he lifted an eyebrow. ‘Now, what’s going on in that little skull of yours now Sally?’ he licked the scarred crease of his lips, his tone mockingly admonishing ‘I hope you’re not still tired.’

Sally was suddenly very aware of how carefully she had to answer this question. She thought of the men at the Prison, blown up as a matter of convenience. She thought of Denny’s casually slit throat. People who could not keep up with Joker’s world, were expendable.

She calmly reached out and straightened his tie, tightening it ever so slightly, the swift yank she gave it not going unnoticed. He gave a wince and grunted as his bruised throat was constricted, but his eyes glinted murderous humour, his lips lifting in an impossibly curved smile.

‘Ready when you are Chief.’ She responded sardonically, tamping down the urge to arch her spine as his grip on her neck tightened imperceptibly.

‘Good Girl.’

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The muted pounding of music accompanied their footsteps as they made their way down the alley to a side door. Carlof, the man who had recommended Yentov, was saved impatiently to the front by Joker, and he had barely knocked on the door before a hatch opened and a series of orders were rapped out in loud Russian. Yentov turned sheepishly to the Joker’s bored gaze.

‘He said only four of us can go in. And that they’ll uhhh... want to search us.’

‘Is that so? Weeeeeeell, how about....’ Joker began ponderously, sidling over to Carlof’s side before slowly turning to face the doorway. Sally, even from her distant space against the wall, heard the muted curse from inside as the sickly light cast shadows and made Joker an eyeless ghost with a gore-streaked mouth. He took a step forward, smirking a bloodied grimace as a frantic exchange could be heard through the slot in the door.

‘How about Yentov reconsiders his terms? I don’t think he’d like... what I keep in my pockets.’

Sally could practically smell the panic coming through the steel door. And all Joker had had to do was show his face. Another surge of feelings left her hot and exhilarated, and aghast... What was this feeling...? Pride? Lust? Enjoyment?

After further hushed discussion, the door opened with a loud clatter. Out of the corner of his eye Joker shot Sally a look which was so banally innocent she found herself biting back laughter.

In the greasy light they made their way up a cramped hallway, the two nervous looking doormen backed against the wall to make room for their number as they ascended the stairs. She did not know what they were expecting to greet them at the top of those stairs, and felt quietly grateful that a number of men had gone up the stairs ahead of her. It couldn’t hurt to have a shield or two.

When the stairs opened out directly into a large room she skirted the edges whilst the men spaced out, warily and precisely taking in the details. Piled up packing crates were scattered around the area in some semblance of catalogued disorder. Sally idly considered they provided good cover, and hoped Joker was thinking the same, and treading carefully. Coupled with the tiny doorway back down the stairs that was the only exit, there could be one hell of a mess if they needed to move quickly.

Another door opened further into the room than Sally could see, and she heard footsteps. There was no nervousness in the men around her – they had the confidence of numbers, the confidence of alliance-worth a man who knew no limits or inhibitions. She suspected that to join with the Joker several of them were just as mentally unsound as he was. She briefly wondered what that made her.

An angular faced man with blond hair and a goatee wondered out of the shadows, flanked by two large men with machine guns. Sally recognised him as Yentov, Grace’s best client. He did not seem in the slightest bit perturbed by the amount of men surrounding him as he entered. ‘Gentlemen. I see you made it past my two associates downstairs.’. His eyes trailed across the assembled faces and stayed upon Derek fractionally longer than was necessary. From the shadows Sally watched Derek give a barely discernible nod, and her skin prickled with wariness.

‘Uhhh... wasn’t exactly hard... They got uhhh.... a little... spooked.’ Joker explained, his tone bordering on apologetic but instead being merely sarcastic as he lurched towards Yentov.

The Russian’s expression changed fractionally, the unease and fear smoothed over in a second at the sight of him.

“The Joker no less. My thanks to you. Since your little stunt at Gotham County my business has tripled. Newly released convicts certainly love guns.’ He said courteously, smile thinly in place.

‘Funny you should say that. We’re in the market for some guns.’ Joker said lightly, turning on heel and rapping his knuckles on the nearest packing crate. Tongue flickering out intermittently, he gestured Carlof towards Yentov and began tearing open the crate.

‘Yentov, good to see you. My new boss is interested in some machine guns I believe.’

‘And grenades, find out if he’s got grenades...’ Joker interrupted in a mumble, rummaging through the guns and assembling one with an unnerving efficiency.

Sally hung back and watched, eyes eagerly taking in how the guns came together as Joker assembled several, inspecting them suspiciously, blowing on them, and hitting them before continually wrenching open yet another case and repeating the process. Carlof and Yentov conversed quietly in Russian while the two lackeys attempted to keep a wary eye on everyone in the room

‘Purchase interest just went up.’ Joker announced, staring at the chaotic mess of firearms on the floor blankly. ‘Is that so?’ Yentov said with chilly politeness, the distrust barely disguised by his veneer of civility. Joker nodded thoughtfully, smacking his lips before waving from one pile to the next. ‘These. These. And these. Oh and one of these, these are good too.’ He exclaimed, a greedy kid in a toy store as he picked up an assault rifle.

‘And how would you be intending to, ahhh, pay?’ Yentov asked, flicking a languid hand back which spurred his Neanderthal bodyguards to chamber their guns. Joker didn’t even bat an eyelid while Sally found herself shrinking back in to the shadows, willing herself to be unseen.

Why was he never afraid???

She followed his expression of almost childish shock as he gawked at Yentov. ‘Pay?!’

‘Pay.’ Yentov replied crisply, eyes narrowing imperceptibly. Joker gave a grunt of annoyance before gesturing at his collection of followers confidentially. ‘Y’see, there just aren’t any gestures of good will nowadays.’ He mock-whispered, squinting as he shrugged out of his coat. They all watched, fascinated as he took one of his precious knives and slit open the lining of the coat on one side. He began peeling out wads of money, getting to about five neat piles before putting the coat back on, and tossing the money at Yentov’s feet.

‘Now crawl around on the floor collecting your little bits of paper.’

Never breaking eye contact, Yentov slowly crouched and picked up the wads of money.

‘A pleasure.... doing business with you.’ He said, his tone dripping with cold hatred. Some of Joker’s boys were already collecting up the guns into several boxes. They knew when it was sensible to make a fast exit. Joker turned away from the look which promised retribution and headed towards the stairs, a cheerful bounce to his walk.

‘This isn’t business Yentov, this is the warm up for some good old fashioned fun.’ Grabbing the cuff of Sally’s coat Joker unceremoniously dragged her away from the wall, pressing a handgun into her limp palm and ushering her down the stairs ahead of him. She had already reached the bottom and had wandered out into the cold daylight when she heard the muted sound of a gunshot.


She pivoted and leapt away from the doorway, ready to run, and heard the sound of Yentov’s body toppling down the stairs before she saw it. His upper torso slumped out into the alley way, his eyes still open, the light in them going dim. She kept her eyes on him as the life drained out of him, seeing the Joker’s shoes step over him.

‘Never trust a man who talks confidentially in foreign languages in front of you.’ He commented to no one in particular, turning as the rest of the men vaulted the body and came down the stairs. His appraising gaze looked over the men as they started making their way down the alley, before he raised his gun again casually, and aimed it at Derek.

The young man’s eyes widened in panic, and he dropped the end of the case he was carrying with one of the others. The rest of the men stopped, and watched. ‘.... Wait, wait hang on....’ he stammered, futilely raising his arms in protest.

‘Aaaaand never trust a young individual who makes furtive gooey eyes at the man you’re doing business with either...’

‘I used to work for him!’ Derek interrupted frantically, eyes bulging out with fear ‘It was nothing, I just used to work for him!’

‘Joker....’ Sally found herself saying uncertainly, Derek’s eyes immediately snapping to hers and pleading, begging without words.

‘Please, I’m telling you the...’

He didn’t get the opportunity to finish his sentence as a series of bullets peppered his stomach and chest. He collapsed with the stunned expression never leaving his face.

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Sally’s vision tilted as she tried to focus.

‘You killed him.’ She murmured numbly, finding her feet clumsily drawing her over to Derek’s dead body, that shocked, innocent, so fucking YOUNG face pressed in to the pavement. Her hand trailed over his hair, but she didn’t dare actually touch him.

‘Yes I did. Bullet. Body. Dead. The age-old tactic. Let’s go.’ Joker replied absentmindedly, throwing his gun to one of the nearby men and waving them all in to motion once more.

‘..... Why?.... You didn’t...’

‘What?! I shouldn’t have? Because he was nice to YOU? Quite an egotistical reason for caring about whether someone’s pushing up daisies or not. You think someone matters more just because they clean you up and feed you? You’d make a marvellous dog Sally.’

The boys were putting the last few boxes away in the van, when she lifted the handgun he had given her and pointed it at the Joker, unsure if the disbelief that was trickling through her veins like ice water could be seen in her gaze.

His back slowly straightened, his lank hair falling into his eyes as he turned. Upon seeing the gun in her hand his posture relaxed once more, his eyes rolling.

‘Please Sally, you’re not going to try and kill me. Not over some little boy.’

‘You sure about that?’ she choked out, standing up and planting her feet.

‘Oh Sally. You might..... shoot me, stab me, lacerate me into little itty bitty pieces. But you won’t kill me because you would be so, completely, totally...’

He paced towards her and she kept the gun trained on his head. ‘...LONELY, without me.’.

Breath sagged out of her lungs and an alien sensation burrowed its way into her mind, but she didn’t let her gaze waver.

‘Bullshit.’

‘Think about it,’ he continued intently, ‘Two weeks back, you had never met anyone, in your ENTIRE life, who was like you, with your.... inclinations, your feelings. Thugs, criminals, but not someone where you looked at them and thought, “I...... KNOW you.”.’
Her heart twisted at the guttural growling intensity of his words, his eyes mesmerising. A dark twinkle came into them again, although that intensity did not disappear for a second. She wanted to back away and knew she could not, must not.

‘ You’ve never been lonely before because you’ve never known what you were missing. But now....’ He let the sentence hang, his eyebrows raised, biting his lick in mock vexation.

‘You would miss, meeee.’ His tone was low, bordering on seductive.

‘You make me sick.’ She whispered, her voice breaking. His smile was ice cold.
‘I don’t doubt it.’

The boys were looking from them to the van, tense with unease. They could feel time ticking over and knew the gunshots would not have gone unreported.

Sally’s arm did not lower, and after a long moment the Joker waved his arms in impatience, taking another step closer.

‘Come on Sally. We both know if you WERE going to kill me, it wouldn’t be with a gun.’ He said, his tone that of someone dealing with a stubborn child.

‘No?’ she croaked out, quite sure that if she spoke her mind would pour out of her mouth in a sick black mess.

‘No.’ He said dryly, licking his lips as he pulled a knife from his pocket and closed the gap between them. When she pulled the safety back in desperation he didn’t even break his motion, simply gripping the hand holding the gun and twisting, pressing the knife into her grasp with the other hand. The gun fell to the floor with a metallic clunk, a shot emitting as it hit the concrete.

Forcing his torso flush up against hers, he pressed her hand, now gripping the knife, to his throat. As she struggled to backpedal away from him he took her other wrist and held it tight up to his pulsepoint, peeling her fingers open until her hand was around his throat.

Blood pounded in her temples as she felt the mad heat of him, the savage pulse of his heartbeat underneath her fingers, pounding through the vulnerable flesh of his neck.

‘Feels good doesn’t it? This is what you want.’ He growled hotly, pressing her grip and the knife closer, digging her fingers into his neck. She swayed dizzily and he swayed with her, locked together in a vicious slow dance. His heartbeat surged through her hands and matched her own pulse, her head filled with the beat of their combined hearts.

His skin was unbearably soft, achingly hot and her head swam as she owned his heartbeat, had it on the whim of a flick of her fingers whether it stopped or continued. Hot wetness hit her hand, and she realised that blood was trickling down from the knife. Her eyes swam up to look at his and saw a breathless, scorching lust-filled madness that matched hers.

Painfully slow, she stepped backwards. His eyes gave her no reprieve as he watched her, giggling. ‘No? Better be sure.’ he said, teasingly releasing his grip.

She was lost, she was helpless and drowning in a hideous sense of fear and emptiness that broke the banks of herself. Screaming in the terrified silence of her was mad, unrelenting resistance, scratching at the walls of her.

‘I can leave. I can go back to my life.’ She mumbled, rambling as she stumbled backwards, not looking where she was going.

‘What life?’ he said, eyes darkening. ‘You never had one.’

She staggered back with nightmares howling and ran.

‘Oooook, you run away then Sally. I’ll see you soon! Watch the News, you’ll see what you’re missing out on.’

She ran all the harder, shuddering gasps racking her lungs.
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Hope you like it! RnR, I likens encouragement :D!