Monsters

Realised no one is actually going to read this when my summary is a load of crap and I didn't even put that there was kinky-kink in here because the content inclusion confuzzles me. BUT THE JOKER IS IN THIS
ONE! BRIBERY!! Enjoy :D....
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‘I’m not even sitting in the same car as that crazy bitch. Pick someone else up.’

Chris frowned levelly at the whore next to him in the car before returning his attention to the woman standing on the curb by the open door. The feverish glint in her eyes added a far more vicious look to the barely suppressed smile on her face, her gaze never lifting off the other woman. He raked his eyes up and down her figure – nice tits, good legs, just what the boss would have had in mind – and gestured at the girl next to him who was squirming under the other woman’s stare. ‘What’s wrong with her? I didn’t know you bitches were picky about who you worked with.’ He leered, oblivious to the genuine panic in the blond girl’s eyes.

‘She’s out of her fucking mind. Trust me, you don’t want her to go with you. ‘

‘Oh jeeesus, just shut up will you...’

‘She is trouble. Real, genuine trouble mister. I ain’t going with her anywhere.’ The blond girl insisted, crossing her arms over her barely covered chest. Chris rolled his eyes and looked back at the woman who was still standing there. He flashed her a leisurely grin ‘You’re not trouble are you sweetheart? Just a working girl looking for some money. Got a sweet deal for you if you’re interested – boss of mine is having a little party, thought some female additions could add some spice to it...’

The woman raised her eyebrows in what Chris suspected was sarcasm as a grin split her face ‘Oooh I just lurrrrrvve spice Mr. Man! ‘

‘If she gets in this car, I get out!’ the blonde shrieked.

The snigger that the other woman had been holding in for so long finally escaped in a long howl of laughter. ‘I’m not.... going to eat you.... precious – I don’t eat carrion.’ She finally gasped out in between guffaws. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ the blond snarled angrily. Unnervingly fast, enough so that Chris flinched backwards, the top half of the other woman’s body was inside the car, her head inches away from the blond. ‘It meaaaans, that you’re, dead, meat pumpkin. I like my meat fresh.’ She purred before locking a grasp around the girl’s throat and dragging her bodily out of the car.
Chris watched in mute disbelief as the blond let out a gargled shriek of terror, her knees bloodied as she hit the tarmac and was dragged up on to the pavement. The other woman then demurely let go of her and stepped towards the car, pausing as the sobbing blond struggled to right herself.

‘Stay.’ She said in the level tone a person might address a dog in, her eyes once more holding that fevered gleam. The blond promptly lay still, mascara streaking her face as she continued to sob. Turning once more, the woman climbed into the car and shut the door before turning to Chris.

‘Price is fifty an hour. By the looks of this car your boss should be able to afford it. I’ll find you some other girls.’ she said calmly. Chris snorted with laughter as the driver started moving, winding through the rubbish on the pitch black road.
‘I guess some whores love their work. You’re quite the little scrapper.’ He said, peering out the window to see what other talent he could find. A smile that had nothing attractive about it graced the woman’s face .

‘That, I am.’

He glanced back round at her and took her in properly. She was a bit scruffy – the short snakeskin black skirt she wore seemed dusted with something white, and her hair was a riotous mane of dyed red. He figured she was probably homeless, like most of these girls were. She was bordering on the bony side, but she was pretty enough.

‘Fancy getting some extra money on the way there, gorgeous?’ he asked, already inching one hand to his belt buckle. She made no reply, seemingly in her own world as she stared out of the window. Chris’ clenched his teeth and tried again. ‘Got a name baby?’ he asked, louder this time, squeezing a hand along her inner thigh. She looked down at his hand before fixing him with a slow Cheshire cat grin. ‘Sally.’

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The ‘party’ was not something foreign to Sally – a bunch of drug dealers and crackheads sat in a room with low slumped chairs and a pool table, pounding music swelling over them as the air clouded with smoke. She and the three other girls that Chris had collected were the only women there, and they each proceeded to take advantage of the flowing alcohol, a bonus for their trouble. Discussions were clearly underway regarding a particularly important deal, because much as the girls had all received cursory lecherous glances and fondlings, none of them had been dragged off into another room yet.
Sally took the bottle of Jack Daniels that stood behind the bar and settled in a corner with it, watching with disinterest. She was becoming impatient, and upon seeing one of the other girls staring at her (she could have been no older than sixteen and had vivid green make up smothering her eyes) she bared her teeth and jiggled her eyebrows until she looked away. She was well known in the down town area of Gotham, among the hookers and the prostitutes. None of them seemed to know why exactly she was someone to be kept away from – rumours have a habit of becoming flimsier the further they travel. It didn’t matter. She had nothing to say to these girls and was pretty sure they had nothing to say to her that was of any interest. From her spot she disinterestedly took in what the two men at the centre of the discussion were saying.

‘The kind of shipments you’re talking about are impossible to get here. I don’t believe that you even have a market that big.’ The man raised a scrawny arm and scratched his nose repeatedly. Coke addict, Sally thought to herself idly, downing some more Jack Daniels.

‘Trust me my friend, you’re looking at the sinkhole of depravity. Batman is history, he’s nobody’s trouble any more. The police are hounding his ass more than they are any of us. The mafia boys all took a big hit last year, they were dropping like flies. I own this market.’

‘Oh yeah, big talk buddy but I’ve gotta protect my investments. Gotham’s a dangerous place to try and do business – too many unknowns.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like that clown freak for a start. You get unpredictable characters like that deciding they own a city and suddenly our business doesn’t look so great, y’know?’

‘Ok, so the Joker’s out...

‘I can’t help but worry Den that you’re trying to push this deal because you know this clown guy escaped. Panic gesture?’ The cokehead smirked and scratched one arm as Den looked daggers at him.

Sally did not watch the news. Why would she bother? But it was the second time she had heard the name ‘Joker’ today, and the word prickled down her spine, stinging and complete.

And that was when Sally felt that something was wrong. But she knew even as she felt it that it was too late, and as her heart sunk into the dark pit of her stomach a gunshot reverberated through the room, silencing the sound system in a fizzing explosion of sparks and crackling noises.


‘Ohhh it is, so nice to be talked about.’


That slow, languorous snarl of a voice, oscillating from shrill to a growl in a second, couldn’t have come from anyone else. Everyone in the room stood in mute silence as the Joker slowly sauntered in to the room with five men behind him, all decked out with machine guns. Little had changed in his appearance – the scar ravaged face was still smeared with lurid facepaint. But there was a difference between seeing this man on the news, and seeing him right in front of you. Dark, unpredictable energy rolled off of him in waves, out of his blackened eyes. As he circled the room of frozen people, idly picking up a bottle and drinking from it before spitting it out in distaste, Sally caught a strong scent of paint, and blood. Her heart pounded an animal rhythm of fear as she sank further back into her seat, praying, praying, that he would not even notice her existence.

The fear that seemed to have locked everyone in to paralysis lifted as the Joker turned sharply, and stood in front of Den. Men peeled away from him, desperately trying to put distance between themselves and this psychotic killer. Joker’s men advanced forward and menaced the men in to seats. The Joker squatted down so that his gaze was level with the drug dealer, whose face had turned almost as white as the Jokers.

‘How I looooove, the Gotham night life. So many new criminals to meet, so many explosions...’ he said slowly and deliberately, flickering his tongue out across his lips before fixing a burning look on Den. ‘I’m sure you’re busy with your druggy scheming but I thought, that I should drop by. You see, I heard that a man like you was getting all manner of high ambition, with my city. And the little dogs either play with me, or get put down, little.. what is your name? Hmm, hmmm?’ the Joker punctuated his queries by lightly slapping Den around the face. Spluttering with a mixture of fear and anger, he snarled ‘Dennis Atherton.’

“Denny, you seem a little uncomfortable. Don’t you like seeing this up close?’ the Joker growled, gripping Den’s face and dragging him to within inches of his own scarred visage.

It was then, that the coke addict made the mistake of piping up. ‘Look Joker, buddy, I’m not from around here, I’m not lookin’ to step on anybodys toes. We got money and ten kilos of coke in these bags – you let me and my boys leave and they’re yours.’

That dangerous gaze had swung round to the cokehead and Sally felt the girl nearest to her flinch and let out a quiet whimper. Shut up bitch, don’t make him look over here. Sally thought savagely, her eyes locked on the Joker’s every move. Her chest felt so tight with panic she didn’t think she could breathe.

‘Reaaally?’ the Joker responded in mock surprise, something the cokehead didn’t seem to pick up on. He began stalking closer and Sally’s heart leapt up into her throat and stayed there. He still hadn’t seen them...

‘Really man, y’know I don’t care who I do business with, y’know? I can do business with you.’

Denny had been watching this exchange nervously and frantically leapt upright ‘What you’re throwing me under the bus to save your own ass Ryan, you piece of shit?!’ He had barely finished the sentence before his throat was unzipped with a casual backwards slash. One of the other girls shrieked and Sally clenched her fingers around the Jack Daniels bottle until her knuckles were bone white, watching Den slump boneless to the floor with blood spraying on to the floor around him. The Joker hadn’t even needed to turn around to slit the man’s throat, and now walked towards Ryan. When Ryan tried to retreat he was pinned in place by two of the Joker’s men. ‘Wait wait, c’mon man wait please..!’ he shrieked, wriggling like a worm on a bated hook.
Two of his men launched forward and went down again as they were pelted with bullets. One of the other girls screamed hysterically only to be shot in the head. Ryan was next to drop down in a puddle of his own blood, his cheek a gaping slit. And all Sally could do was watch numbly. Beneath the intense, sharp beating of her heart, the panic, she felt her eyes calmly taking it in, the blood, the bodies. Her eyes responded and processed even when she knew she should look away, knew she could do nothing else with her terrified body. Two other girls and three men. How soon before they were all dead too? Her trembling hand moved with painful slowness down her leg towards her boot.

‘They always think it’s about money... Ok ok ooooookaaaaay. ‘ Joker murmured, gesturing for a gun to be thrown to him and for the remaining men to be brought forward. He began humming to himself as he took their guns off them, giggling slightly ‘It’s tough being on top, and I’m interested in some new blood. Hope you’re all up for a little battle royale – rules are very simple; try and, uhhhhh, not die. Oh, and, most important of all, time is precious. Have a ball!’ he said in that light cheery tone of his, waving his arms to indicate they should commence, and walking out of the door.


There was only a second’s hesitation between the three men before they flung themselves at each other. Moving as if in a dream, Sally pulled her knife from the inside of her boot, even as she was doing it turning to the girl closest to her and gripping her by the hair. Everything suddenly became very, very fast and very loud as she felt red hot blood spraying across her face, heard the other girl howling in fear, scrabbling up and away from her. Sally caught her easily, stabbing frantically and letting her drop. One man was down, a huge gash in his head while the others fought like wild animals on the floor.
It took little effort for Sally to wrench one of their heads back and slit his throat, but even as she did so the man underneath the dying one was bulleting into her stomach, sending her crashing backwards into a table. They fell to the floor with Sally slashing in broad arcs – the man’s hands were soaked with blood as he gripped her shirt front and headbutted her. A glut of blood exploded from her nose and the world span, but she still did not break her grip on the knife. Lodging her knee in his stomach she threw him off her before stumbling after him, shuddering breaths tearing out of her lungs as her vision desperately tried to clear.


Sally did not know what happened over the next few minutes. When her heartbeat stopped pounding in her ears and her eyes cleared, the feeling in her limbs came back to her. She did not look up through her tangled wet hair as one hand tremulously stretched out, and touched the man she was sitting on over the mouth. No breath. She would not look up. Safe in her cocoon of gore-festooned hair, she concentrated only on the fact of her breathing. Her breathing. She was alive.

‘Now this is something special. A girl who uses knives, is a girl after my own heart.’