The Joker's New Pet

routine thank you to my reviewers. I actually love reading reviews. I never get any good mail. Lot's of junk mail. So it's nice to come here and find reviews lol. Anyway for smut lovers, not really much smut in this chapter. But a little more plot (I know I know lol). Don't worry, more smut to come lol!

***

‘Motel 7 where you’ll sleep like Heaven’ was the motto of the old decrepit motel, flashing on the half lit neon sign on the top of the building. That phrase wasn’t exactly what Jim Gordon had in mind as he interrogated the older male manager in the check-in lobby. Jim stifled a grimace as he saw a cockroach skitter across the floor while the older man was telling his story.

“My poor cleaning lady was the first to discover the man’s body,” The manager spoke to Batman, Jim and his partner. “I remember the look on her face. She was pale white and she could barely form a coherent sentence. Poor thing never saw a dead body before. I’m sorry to say that it wasn’t my first dead body I’ve seen. The guy was shot in the head, and his cheeks were grotesquely slit to where it looked like he had a permanent smile. It was the first sign of anyone around here leaving a dead body like that. A new trademark.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t very surprised,” The manager continued. “I figured the guy owed some money to some bad people if ya know what I mean. Not uncommon around here. And he was up to some seedy business that night if ya get my drift.” Batman and Jim listened to the manager intently.

*

Eight years earlier…

It was after midnight when the half drunken couple stumbled up to their room, giggling stupidly. It took a few minutes for the man to find the keyhole as he fumbled with his room key. When he finally opened the door, the woman immediately hopped on the queen size bed, bouncing and laughing like a schoolgirl. With a devious grin the man chucked his jacket off and tackled her on the bed, sloppily kissing her neck and chest.

The girl continued to giggle, but grunted and pushed him away for a moment. “Woah, woah buddy. I prefer my customers show me the cash first.”

“I gave you half in the car girly,” The man grunted. “Er, what did you say your name was again toots?”

“Candy!” The young woman scoffed, and pushed his head away hard.

The dark haired man smirked at the girl’s annoyed reaction. “Aw come on, not like that’s your real name. I’ll bet your real name’s Rosie or something what with that fiery red hair of yours. ‘sides, aren’tchya happy that I got us a motel and I didn’t have you just suck me off in my car?”

“Yeah well this ain’t exactly the four seasons bub,” The girl scoffed with her thick deep city accent.

“Fine, fine,” the man sighed, annoyed. He stood up and took out his wallet, then pulled out a couple of hundreds and dangled them in front of her face. “Here’s the other half.” The girl reached for the money but he snatched it away and shoved it back in his wallet. “After your job’s done.” He said firmly and chucked his wallet on the nightstand by the bed.

The woman glared up at him seductively, licking her full red lips. She began to unbutton his pants. It wasn’t long before oral sex progressed to full on rough intercourse, and the man pulled her on top of him, forcing her to ride him.

“Oh fuck yes,” the man grunted as he watched her breasts bounce above him. The redhead moaned and bucked as she rode him like a mechanical bull. She surely was a professional.

“Oh yes,” She purred in the perfect telephone actress voice. “Oh god, Oh God, oh…aaaah!!” Her moaning suddenly ceased and her eyes bulged in an almost comical fashion. She squealed and immediately dove off of his penis and rolled to the other side of the bed then frantically pulled the covers over her naked body.

“Fuck, what the fuck!” The man stuttered and frantically pulled the covers over himself as well when he looked over to his side and spotted a tall figure lingering in a dark corner of the room. The tall silhouette had emerged from the restroom and had been silently watching them screw for several minutes.

He was casually leaning against the wall then he sauntered closer to the light and revealed himself to be a man clad in an extravagant purple suit. Red and white makeup was heavily caked on his face, and a green tint had been greasily smeared into his naturally dark blond hair. “F..Fuck, who the fuck are you?!” The naked Italian-American man sputtered. He was about to make a desperate leap for his pants on the floor because he had stuffed a gun into them, but the tall theatrically dressed man cocked his own gun and halted him.

“Atatata, be still,” He spoke in an eerily calm voice. The woman began screaming hysterically at the sight of the gun. He put a finger to his lips and quieted her. “Sush, sush, sush! We don’t want to make anymore noise than necessary now do we?”

“What the fuck do you want?!” The man asked again, as the girl whimpered beside him.

“What? You two didn’t order a call clown?” The man joked, but no mirth was apparent in his voice. His dark eyes darted to the frightened prostitute. “First of all sweetheart, me and Claudio here need to have a little talk. So why don’t you get dressed and be on your merry way, that okay with you doll face?” She kept the covers clenched around her form, shivering as if she were afraid to get up and show him her vulnerable nudity.

The tall clown rolled his eyes. “Come on now sweetheart. Now’s not the time to be modest. I know what you do for a living,” he reached for Claudio’s wallet on the nightstand and pulled out a couple of hundreds. He tossed them to her. “Here ya go honey. Full pay for half a nights worth of work. Now scoot.” The girl grabbed the hundred dollar bills and shoved them into her purse then she nervously scrambled to get her clothes on and trotted for the door.

“And sweetheart. Don’t be running to any cops now,” he addressed her casually as she scuttled passed him.

“I won’t. It ain’t worth my neck, trust me,” Said the prostitute before she hurried out the door, grateful to just get out of there.

“Bitch,” Claudio mouthed after the girl had left.

“Now be nice. She offers this city a much needed service,” The clown said sarcastically. “Now Claudio Botticelli who lives on 1576 West 22nd Street, what would Vivian have to say about little Candy hmm?”

“What the fuck clown, you been stalking me?!” Claudio yelled.

“I’d watch your tone. I have to warn you that I’m a bit skittish and any sudden loud noises might cause my finger to accidentally slip on this hair trigger,” The clown licked his lips.

“What do you want?” Claudio asked, trying to hide the anxiousness in his voice.

“Little Vivian is pregnant isn’t she? Sitting at home alone every night wondering where her husband is. Wondering wither or not he’ll even come home. She must assume you’re working late at the office again. Ah, such is the life of a mob wife. I guess it comes with the territory. Though she probably thinks you’re just out shooting a guy in the head rather than shooting your juice into a painted little whore,” He licked his lips habitually. “Or maybe tying weights to innocent guy’s ankles and throwing him into Gotham lake. That’s an average work night for you, isn’t it Mr. Botticelli?”

Claudio’s eye’s enlarged like saucers. It wasn’t possible. They had ‘offed’ him months ago. “No…it can’t be. They fricken cuffed your ankles to two hundred and fifty pound weights at least!”

“No, they did that to poor old Jack. Poor Jack what a shame. Shame about his wife too. Beautiful, and pregnant too poor thing. Jack was so excited to be a father. He told me he was going to have a little girl you know. Was gonna name her Elizabeth Angel Napier. She was going to be his angel, his savior ya see. A beam of light in this hell called Gotham. But Jack was never the lucky one. Always the butt of a joke and now Jack’s poor fortune has led him to sleeping with the fishes underneath the Gotham lake pier.” The tone of his voice was uncanny, and it sent chills up Claudio’s spine.

“Look Jack…I wasn’t there when Joey murdered your woman. I had nothing to do with it!” Claudio pleaded.

Something in the clown’s eyes suddenly snapped, and his calm demeanor was gone in an instant. He immediately lunged at Claudio and jammed his gun into his temple. He brought his face dangerously close to Claudio’s ear. “Name’s not Jack. Jack’s a dead man. Don’t refer to me by a dead man’s name. Jack always did worry too much. He really needed to smile more. He was supposed to be a funny man. Needed to see the humor in life. Now I know Jack would see the funny side. I guess you can say I’m old Jack’s surviving sense of humor. Just call me Joker.” His tone was low and terrifying, almost possessed.

“L…look, what they did to...to Jack. It wasn’t my fault. It was all Joey Biscotti’s idea.” Claudio stuttered.

“Ah, but you were there when they stuffed old unlucky Jack in that trunk weren’t you? You were there when they cuffed unfortunate Jack’s ankles to those weights and tossed him into that lake like yesterday’s garbage. And you knew what Joey Biscotti planned to do to Jack’s little wife and child didn’t you?” The Joker growled.

“Look. If I didn’t comply Joey would’a cut my head off too,” Claudio tried to keep his voice calm and not show fear. “The asshole has power. His father’s a mob boss. Joey’s like the spoiled little shit who does whatever he wants, and no one can do anything to stop him unless they wanna get offed.”

The Joker rubbed his fingers together in front of Claudio’s face. “You know what this is? It’s the world’s smallest violin. I don’t care if Joey would’a offed you,” The Joker mocked him with a fake mobster accent. Then he tugged at his hair hard and jammed his gun into his temple even harder causing Claudio to wince. “You still went along with the plan like a pathetic little coward. And I don’t like cowards,” The Joker growled huskily. “Now tell me,” he twisted the gun into the side of his head. “Where is Joey Biscotti?! Hmm?!”

“Look. I don’t know where he is right now. To be honest I’m not sure I’d tell ya if I did. Nobody crosses Joey Biscotti. Or any Biscotti for that matter. After they get done with ya, just gettin’ shot in the head would seem like paradise. I’d recommend you quit now, but it looks like you’re a guy whose got a hankering for revenge. Or a death wish, am I right?”

“Tell me what you know! Or you’re no longer of any use to me,” the Joker growled and jammed the gun even harder into Claudio’s temple. Claudio could feel it bruising.

“Alright, alright!” Claudio complied. “I don’t know where Joey is. But I can give you some info I know about that night. You know your…Jack’s old boss Paulie Torlini? Even he knew better not ta cross a Biscotti. He’s an old mob buddy. He even tried warnin’ ya but you didn’t listen. He’s known the Biscotti’s for years. Keeps it all hush hush. The night Jack’s little wife was murdered, Paulie Torlini knew it was coming. He was paid off beforehand, and he was also looking out for his own neck. How else do you think they could rape and murder your wife right behind his club and him not even hear her screams? He may be old, but he ain’t deaf yet.”

The Joker licked his lips thoughtfully. A few months ago, he would have been hurt by his old boss’s betrayal. Now however, the only emotion that crossed his mind was pure rage and he only wanted vengeance. “Look. Go take it up with Paulie Torlini. In a way, he had a hand in your wife’s murder. He could’a warned ya, or told you to get out of town completely. But he didn’t. He might actually be able to give you more info about Joey than even I can.” Said Claudio. “Now, I told you all that I know. Will you let me go?”

For a moment there was silence. Then the Joker spoke in his chilling voice. “Ya know, Jack was such a nice guy. Even though people always treated him like dog feces, and walked all over him, he always tried to keep a smile on his face as they did it. And he was always helpful to those in need. He loaned friends money who never paid him back. He took friends in who had stolen from him. And he loved his little wife so, and his unborn little baby. He never would’a cheated on her. Especially with a cheap prostitute. But of course Jack was the one to get screwed over. What a shame, what a shame.” The Joker went off on a tangent.

Claudio didn’t think this ex theatrical performer would have the balls to pull the trigger. He didn’t seem the type. He was just an entertainer. He was no professional killer. There was no way he could summons the courage to murder someone. Claudio was wrong. A split second later the gun fired into his temple and his brains splattered across his pillow. He died instantly. The gun had a silencer so it made hardly any noise.

The Joker glared down at his lifeless body without remorse. Claudio’s wife and unborn child would thank him in the future. He probably saved them a lot of grief. This was now the second actual murder he witnessed in his life. He had never seen someone shot in the head up close before. It was a lot messier than he anticipated. Blood was sprawled across the bed’s headboard and little pieces of skull were lying on the sheets.

Jack stared at the body for a few more minutes, unmoved and desensitized, though his hand was shaking. It was the first life he had taken. He had never even been hunting. The only thing he ever killed was a bug. His arm still shivering both from rage and a sudden adrenaline rush, Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. With a trembling hand, he leaned over and carved a Glasgow smile into the dead man’s cheeks.

He didn’t know if they would see Claudio’s body, but he did this as a sign to Joey and his friends to let them know that he was coming for them. He would have his revenge, and it would taste oh so bittersweet. Despite his calm appearance, his hands were still trembling profusely as a last ounce of humanity clung to life deep within his soul. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a card from one of his old magic decks. He pinned the joker card to the dead man’s shirt.

He searched through Claudio’s pockets and his wallet and took any cash he had along with his credit cards. A mobster’s credit cards. These would be helpful. With one final hateful glance at the body, the Joker left the motel. One down, many more to go.

***

It was nighttime, and the Joker had forced Stacey to curl up in bed with him shortly after their little ‘romp.’ Stacey’s back was turned towards him, and he held her in a tight embrace. Stacey could literally feel the bags sagging under her eyes. She hadn’t had a decent night’s rest in weeks. It had gotten to the point now to where she was actually too exhausted to fall asleep. This wasn’t her second wind. This had to be her fourth or fifth wind at least.

The Joker was mumbling things in his sleep next to Stacey’s ear. He was muttering things that made absolutely no sense. It was the ramblings of a psychopath. He mumbled things about lawn gnomes wearing sombrero hats being funny, and three legged elephants with pig hooves. She heard him mutter that he always wanted a red bicycle as a boy, and something about Batman being a flaming closeted homo. Every once in a while he would jerk violently, causing Stacey to groan underneath her breath. She was never going to get to sleep at this rate.

Then out of nowhere, he yanked her hard against his chest in a crushing vice like grip. It startled Stacey, and for a split second she thought he had awoken and decided to start choking her to death again. But it was apparent that he was still asleep when he continued to mutter to himself. However this time, his voice sounded like it was in pain. Emotional pain. A tone she would never expect to hear out of the Joker’s mouth.

“Emma, Emma, God no!” he muttered violently in his sleep. “Oh fuck, oh god! No, no, Emma.” Stacey winced as his strong arms latched tightly around her frame. The Joker was a violent monster, but Stacey noted that she had never really heard him curse before. He considered himself to be classier than that. “Oh God, oh God, fuck, fuck Emma this can’t be happening.” He wailed again. This was not the voice of the Joker. It sounded more like the agonizing cries of an emotionally distraught man having a complete mental breakdown.

He violently latched onto Stacey even harder, making it difficult for her to breath. “I’m here Emma. Jack’s here. Stay with me baby, stay with Jack.” The Joker mumbled. Stacey choked and she feared she would turn blue if the Joker decided to latch onto her any harder. She dug her nails into the sheets, trying to crawl her way out of his grasp. Every time she tried, he would pull her back and continue to ramble hysterically in this emotionally distressed voice.

Eventually Stacey was able to wiggle her way out of his grasp, but within his slumber his arms reached out, desperately trying to find something to hold onto. Stacey replaced herself with a pillow and the Joker latched onto it hard. “Emma, Emma, Stay with me, Stay with Jack,” He continued to painfully mutter. Stacey watched him fixedly and she was stunned when she heard him sniffle and saw tears dripping down his cheeks.

He held the pillow like he was clinging onto it for dear life. His makeup had worn off almost completely, revealing the flawed but handsome man underneath. For a moment, Stacey no longer saw the terrifying monster that she was so used to seeing. In a fleeting instant, Stacey saw a regular mortal man who had no doubt suffered from a horrifying ordeal. She saw a man whom, because of some horrific experience, was pushed down a path of destruction. Stacey didn’t have to know exactly what that experience was. She could feel it in her soul.

The Joker had terrified her to no end. He had whipped her until she was crying and begging, and had nearly given her a heart attack on several occasions. He had tormented her for weeks, and on a few incidents, made her fear for her life. But in that moment, Stacey couldn’t help but feel pity. Not loathing or fear or disgust, but pure genuine pity. Perhaps it was her soft side coming out. The big heart she inherited from her father. She did have her father’s intuition. Deep within the Joker’s twisted soul there was once the soul of a man, and it only took that brief moment for Stacey to realize that.

How strange that the Joker never showed a hint of humanity until he was in deep sleep. For a few moments, his face didn’t even look like the Joker’s face anymore. He looked vulnerable, and Stacey was once again reminded of a fallen angel. Against her better judgment, she reached over and began stroking his hair. He looked like he was in so much pain that she couldn’t stop herself. She acted on instinct. She snapped her hand away though when he jerked hard in his sleep.

Stacey watched him for several more minutes, and he continued to sob and mutter in his sleep. Eventually he quieted down and his sobs went back to quiet breathing. Stacey continued to watch him as he held onto the pillow. Eventually, his hand trailed over the pillow, up to where Stacey’s head would be. He smacked his lips, and felt around the pillow for a moment. His face contorted into a look of confusion and then his eyes darted open. Uh oh. His head snapped into an upright position, and the vulnerable man that Stacey just saw a moment ago was gone and the demon returned. He glared at her with soulless eyes, as if Lucifer himself had reclaimed his body.

Before Stacey could even utter a syllable, the Joker violently threw the pillow aside, and pounced on top of her, pinning her wrists above her head. “What’s the little bunny doing hmm? Trying to sneak away again? Very foolish little bunny, very foolish indeed.” He growled in her face. His voice was different from the one she had heard in his sleep. This was the voice of the Joker, low, commanding and downright demonic.

“No, I wasn’t sneaking!” Stacey countered very quickly. “You were having a very violent nightmare! You were choking me in your sleep! I just didn’t want you to choke me to death!”

The Joker smacked his lips and brought his face down closer to hers. “I don’t have nightmares little bunny. I create them. I am a walking nightmare,” He breathed hoarsely then he chuckled with that devilish laugh of his.

“I wish I had a video camera, because it looked like a pretty bad nightmare to me,” Stacey argued. “Look. You still have tears in your eyes. You were crying!”

The Joker looked at her in bafflement, then he threw his head back and cackled madly as if that was the most amusing thing he had ever heard. “Crying? me? Oh no, no, no, no. Grown men don’t cry little bunny. Or if I was, they must have been tears of joy, which means I was having a wonderful dream of tormenting Batman by poking hot sticks up his butt. I must have been laughing in my sleep, so hard I was crying. Either that or I just have sleep in my eye.” He snickered.

“Look, I watched you in your sleep. I know what I saw,” Stacey countered.

The Joker sighed. “No, no little bunny. I don’t cry. Rather, I make naughty little girls cry when they try to sneak away from me while I’m sleeping,” he growled. He turned her around roughly and pinned her on her stomach then ripped her panties off. He began spanking her hard and fast, and Stacey winced, digging her nails into the mattress. She gritted her teeth, not wanting to make any sudden noises to further provoke his anger.

It was a quick spanking, but long and hard enough to make her sore for the rest of the night. The Joker was too tired to give her a long drawn out and thorough one. When he was finished, he plopped back down and yanked her back into his arms firmly. “Better not catch you trying to sneak away again baby doll. Now it’s even more apparent to me that we have to do something more drastic about your obedience.” He growled in her ear. “Now go to sleep.”

Stacey inwardly sighed. It was going to be another long night for her. She prayed she would be able to fall asleep soon.

***

Eight Years Earlier…

The shopkeeper at the ‘Sharpshooter Gun Shop’ was engulfed in a hunter’s magazine, when he heard someone walk through the door, causing the bell to jingle. He didn’t bother to look up as a man approached the counter and casually leaned against it. “Can I help you?” the shopkeeper asked in a gruff voice, still enthralled with his magazine.

“I need some guns,” The man answered in a low voice, almost a growl. “Revolvers, Semi-automatics, Derringers, machine guns, anything ya got.”

The man looked up from his magazine and glared at the man leaning over the counter. His eyes immediately fixated on the man’s protruding scars, and he stifled a grimace. “I…I need to see your license first.”

The scarred man didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at the shopkeeper. He leaned against the counter sideways and reached into a pocket of his big purple trench coat, then pulled out a life-savor and stuck it in his mouth. Instead of sucking on it, he chewed on it, making a loud crunching noise. He tongued at his scars. The shopkeeper couldn’t help but scrunch his face at the sight of those painful wounds.

“If you don’t mind me asking…um…what happened?”

The Joker looked up at him. “Oh these? Nothing big. Just cut myself shaving. Bought one of those electric razors and my hand slipped. Now I’d like to take a look at some guns if you don’t mind-uh.”

“Can’t sell ya any guns without a license.” The Shopkeeper said firmly. “You need a license to own a gun in Gotham.”

The Joker casually reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a wad of cash, then slapped it on the counter. “Like I said, let me see what I have available.” Said the Shopkeeper and happily took the money and shoved it into his pocket. He displayed a line of pistols and a couple of small machine guns. “This one’s small and easily concealed in a jacket. Could carry it in your jeans and people would think it was a wallet,” The man began his selling spiel.

“If you want something bigger, something more powerful, a classic AK-47 is a nice easy to carry machine gun. However if you want something with better accuracy, I recommend the M16.” The shopkeeper continued to go over all the specifics of each gun he laid out on the table.

“I’ll take them,” Said the Joker.

“Which one?”

“All of them.”

The Joker left the gun shop with a much heavier trench coat. Who knew his magic coat would also be this handy in carrying weapons. There wasn’t one empty pocket left. The gun he had used to kill Claudio was the gun he had taken from Joey that night. It only had a few bullets left. He certainly couldn’t plan his revenge out with a half empty pistol. Now he felt fully stalked and ready to go, a man on a mission. Well…he didn’t feel like a man anymore. He was an angry beast. A monster. An unstoppable force.

***

It was after midnight when Jim Gordon pulled up in front of ‘The Mad Hatter’s Comedy and Magic Club.’ It was their next stop in tracing the Joker’s footsteps. Jim didn’t know what this place had to do with the Joker but Batman had told him to meet him there next, and Jim trusted him fully. When Jim stopped in front of the old nightclub, he already saw Batman’s dark form lingering in the shadows. Jesus he was fast. If only his cops were as quick as the Batman.

Jim exited the vehicle and greeted Batman for the second time that night. “So what’s this place have to do with the Joker?” he asked.

“I’m unsure,” Rasped Batman. “But my instincts tell me that the owner of this place might know something.”

***

Uhg ok so now I am turning the Joker into a total tragic character. I apologize for the sappiness. I know it's the Joker but I can't help myself. I think giving him a human side makes it more interesting lol. Eh doesn't matter. I'm having too much fun writing this and it's giving me good writing practice hehe.