Monsters

Hey y'all! I know I haven't written anything for this in forever.... Well that's kind of a lie, I wrote this chapter and then really wasn't happy with it, so I've been sitting on it forever. Finally thought fuck it, so here it is, if people are still interested :D. Some good old fashioned violence for you..... ENJOY!

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Earthquakes in my heart, because I can see you…….
She was sure she was moving in a saunter, but her eyes were tripping and stumbling as she moved towards him, chemicals kicking the bloodstream in to a howling rage. Her skin prickled, acknowledging the men around him, but her heartbeat was screaming as she closed in on him, never looking, looking at his shoes, his pin-striped trousers, looking up, up, it was going to hurt just seeing him…..

Candy cane, brittle and perfect, the second she saw his face. She scanned the streaked contours of his whitened face, at the laughter still twisting those torn red lips, his eyes barely discernible glowing pinpoints in the black caverns surrounding them.

“Saaaallly……” he purred in a distracted tone, looking around the ruined apartment, the shattered paintings, the gore-streaked floors. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

Aching though her senses were, her thoughts bubbling, she watched him intently, waiting for his reaction beyond the mania of his laughter.

“So you got my message?”

“How could I not? I was… imp-rESSED. Enthraaaalled even. I’ve never had such an encouraging invitation…”

As he spoke she stepped close to his chest, stroking one hand easily down his shirtfront as she straightened his tie. She ignored the quiet grumble of arousal that her touch created even as she revelled in it, ribcage aching with the pain of holding back her response. The smell of him always hit her the same way, a visceral response to the scent of a sick animal. She heard the wet, slick sound of his mouth, the licking of his lips, and finally looked at him properly.

His eyes had all the level steadiness of calm, only the shimmering centre that danced betraying him, and she saw blackspots in her vision as she focused on that gaze. Her guts trembled with it and her mouth split open in an unbidden grin that he mirrored in a smirk. Agonisingly slowly, he leaned forward, brushing his cheek slightly against hers.

‘Are these two pretty packages for me?’ he drawled quietly, hot breath hitting her ear. She twisted her lips in consideration, frowning slightly.

‘Almost.’ She said, backing away from him and hurrying over to a sidetable.

‘The combination of them, and these…..’
She rolled open a cloth that progressively spilled out a motley collection of instruments; knives, screwdrivers and mechanical fare tumbled towards Jokers feet.
There was a long silence as he considered the mess around him, twisting and theatrically tiptoeing through the amassed pieces, nudging a small blowtorch Sally had found in the kitchen with his foot. The laughter that finally came was shrill and intense, his hand shooting out and taking hold of her shirtfront before trailing her after him towards their captives. Eagerness was swelling off him like a scent as his eyes raked over the two bleeding men, who remained paralyzed with fear, saying nothing.

‘Sally-Wheel…. You are perfectly good, at butchering people. Don’t get me wrong… you can slice up a man like he’s a Sunday dinner, but…. When it comes to keeping the man alive, for as long as possible….’

His eyes gleamed with enjoyment as he took off his jacket, flinging it to one side. A clown man caught it, like a good boy, and put it on a side table. Delight blossomed in Sally’s chest, excitement squirming feral and painful, and a giggle burst out of her mouth before she could help it. She clamped a hand over her mouth as he gave her a warning look, giggles bursting out that much faster. He was pleased, she was pleased, he was pleased he liked it he was looking at her like a killer in heat and her fingers were itching for violent contact.

‘You have a lot to learn…..’ Ponderously, he slipped a knife from his pocket before tossing it at her carelessly, and grabbing another from off the floor. Stepping up to the bodyguard, kicking a skewer out of his path, he ripped open the man’s shirt. The incapacitated man started and let out a barely audible grunt of fear, before Joker hushed him soothingly.

‘You ca... can't do this... you can't expect to get away with it… You’ll be dead by tomorrow morning….’

Sally’s eyes whiplashed round to look at Yentov, his voice barely above a whisper. Joker didn’t even glance in his direction.
‘Oh I think I will. Now you be quiet, it’s not your turn yet.’ He responded cheerily, wagging a gloved finger in Yentov’s direction.

His eyes flickered back round to Sally and he yanked her forward impatiently.

‘You ever skinned someone??’

‘Show me.’
Instinct fired the response off her tongue almost before he had finished asking.
His breath caught and increased. ‘Just what I like to hear….’

__________________________________________________________________________________

The bodyguard was practise. Of course, when Yentov kept screaming for help, Sally had finally cut out his tongue. Anxious that he didn’t bleed to death before they got to him though, she made sure to jam a towel down his throat. Joker assured her that since he was sitting upright he wouldn’t choke on the blood either.

Sally had messed up skinning the bodyguard’s chest a few times and had been smacked irritably out of the way. She had never seen Joker be so patient, so methodical, and listened and watched eagerly to every cut, to every scream. He had encouraged her to experiment, and had whooped with laughter when she discovered the game of cutting deep gashes into the bodyguard’s exposed stomach tissue only to dig lit matches in to them.
It was only an hour before he died, whether from shock or pain Sally wasn’t sure.
Clearly this wasn’t enough time since Joker gave a growl of annoyance as the light in his eyes gave out, cuffing her round the head before dragging her over to Yentov with blood-thirsty eagerness. She knew what this was, had always known what it would be; torture had no interest for him ultimately. Quite simply he wanted to see what she was capable of doing.

When she had popped Yentov’s eyes with slow, sustained pressure underneath his lower lids, Joker had given a low chuckle of approval that she hadn’t damaged the eyeballs. One of the clown boys had retched and promptly run in to the kitchen to be sick when she had a go at scalping that bleached blond hair off Yentov’s head. She only managed a few inches which Joker promptly tucked into his Jacket pocket like a handkerchief. Whilst most of Joker’s preferences involved knives, fire seemed a more than adequate addition when he lit what remained of Yentov’s hair. He had howled and shrieked, tossing his head madly to try and put out the flames

The other smells had been fine, but burnt hair had briefly made Sally feel nauseous. Joker teased her in mocking baby tones for her queasiness and had received a hard kick to the shin. He had yelped in pain before backhanding her across the face, sending her tripping backwards over the knives that festooned the floor. While he hopped around on one leg giggling she had taken a hammer from the scattered implements, suddenly inspired, and had shattered Yentov’s kneecap. He kept making these hollow gulping wailing noises, blood bubbling up around his lips, eyes twitching blindly.

‘Now, isn’t this, ro-man-tic....’ Joker growled slowly, silence in the room except for quiet strain of music playing from upstairs, and the thin broken breathing of Yentov, his blubbering rasping noises. Blood crept ponderously across the floor, touching Sally’s boots. She turned to look at him, chest heaving with exertion, her smile genuine and huge, and a small laugh escaped unbidden from her mouth. That lethal mixture of simmering tension and amusement was in his eyes now as he watched her levelly, those eyes penning back unfinished violence. Her skin crawled at the intensity of his stare, his eyes roving up and down her in naked appreciation. She was assailed by so much tenderness for him in that moment that it was almost overwhelming. He was PERFECT.

Yentov made a noise, a gurgled wet sob, and Sally planted her boot in the centre of his groin, pressing down viciously without taking her eyes off the Joker. He squirmed and made squawking, snivelling sounds, trying to reverse on the chair weakly when there was nowhere to go. She leaned in to her knee and pressed her full body weight down on his crotch, and even in his blood-deprived, exhausted state, he managed another proper scream.

Joker paced jauntily towards her, stopping a few feet away and glancing at Yentov, eyes taking in the state he was in with a detached child-like curiosity.

‘Now.... Me and Miss Gore, are going to take advantage of this fabulous place you have here. But don’t you go dying on me.... yet.’ He purred, his tone snapping, sharp as razorwire, as he crouched down in front of the man, and tapped his knee with a blade. Sally felt her breath tremble with anticipation, seeing him so close. The mood in the stench-filled air had only changed enough for her and him to notice. There wasn’t much of a difference between the feelings anyway.

‘I’ve got lots more planned for you.’

Sally walked past them both, heart beating in that perfect mix of sheer want and fear, and began heading up the stairs. She could hear the Joker following after, his footsteps heavy on the steps, and an uncontrollable shudder convulsed her spine as she turned and walked backwards up the steps, giving him a broad grin. His face was perfectly controlled as he met her stare, a slight grin on his lips. It was only the hunched set of his shoulders that gave away what was going on underneath that surface.
Kicking the bedroom door open, she scampered over to the bed and leapt on to it, bouncing with determined enthusiasm. He watched as she attempted a forward flip and landed on her head, his laughter low and sarcastic as she wobbled upright and continued bouncing.

‘Pleased?’ she finally asked, only to find her breath leaving her body in a great ‘whoomph’ as he caught her ankle in a vice-like grip and wrenched her legs out from under her, dragging her off the bed and to the floor. She winced reflexively as her spine jarred against the floor, and yet all the same couldn’t help but be amused. The knife digging into the hollow just under her jaw did nothing to stem this delight, this pleasure at having him hovering over her, his eyes methodically mad. She had never really thought that he would want it comfortably anyway.

‘Now youuuuu….’ His drawl emphasised the needle-point sharpness as the keen knife bit into the soft skin of her jaw ‘…… Mmmmmmmmm…. Sally…. I want you to tell me when you next think, you’ll be flighting off, on one of your personal, individual adventures!!!’ he intoned excitably, his knife digging in under her chin slightly, enough to make her swallow slowly. His forehead met hers and her insides blossomed unwelcome feeling at the intimate contact, knife within her skin, hot face against her own. She knew she needed to concentrate on what he was asking her, things that would mean her death if she didn’t…

‘I don’t know. I never know… when I’ll leave.’

The knife dug in deeper, and she crawled up the ground to escape it, locking her spine backwards and arching her neck to escape the blade, all the while with his forehead skin-close against her own. Instinct alone, not fear, kept her moving back, and his devouring eyes took it all in. And as always, he understood every single movement she made.

The scoured line wherever that blade met didn’t bother her, only excited her more. His body suddenly slunk down against hers, so close and hot that she almost felt claustrophobic with the sheer presence of him as his chest crushed against hers. Her scalp stung once again as he wrenched her head upright by her long hair, keeping her neck taut as he looked at her, lips an agonising centimetre from her own. The calculating evaluation of his eyes told her all she needed to know.

‘In-ter-REST-ing…. Not, the answer I wanted-uh …. But… an honest answer at least.’

She heard the brief tinkling sound as his knife met the floorboards, abandoning his fingertips, and sighed as his calloused fingers fisted into her skirt, drawing the material up over her legs. Her skin flinched and ached for his touch, as his other hand twisted into her hair, stretching her neck to breaking point. He was so close she could taste the paint on him as he smacked his lips. She felt the slight tremor in his body and knew that feeling, that vibrated through his body. The uncertainty of whether he wanted to fuck her through the floor, or beat her into unrecognisable pieces.

‘But then, you’ll always come back….. wooon’t you, my Sally? It’s a little too, lonely, out there….. Least ways, for people like you and me…. And I get the feeling, that we’ll be doing this, for a loooong time.’

Those long, clever fingers were tunnelling up her long legs, seconds from possessing her, when she swung a speedy punch up into the Joker’s face, momentarily stunning him, before lifting one foot and lodging it in his stomach with one violent kick, sending him sprawling back away from her.

His dizzy confusion was short-lived as she bounced upright on to the balls of her feet, and the grin that she knew was immediate to him spread across his face, as he straightened and clenched his fists.

‘Shut up. If you never bore me, I’ll never want to leave.’

‘Ah…Ah-HA, HAHA! Gotta love the girl, gotta love her…… C’mere.’ he purred, and then they flung themselves towards one another…..

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Still not entirely happy with it, but primarily wanted to see if people were still interested in me continuing. Let me know what you think, RnR's keep my starved motivation alive!
XXX