The Joker's New Pet
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zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] › Batman (All Movies)
Rating:
Adult +
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31,125
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131
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] › Batman (All Movies)
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
34
Views:
31,125
Reviews:
131
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Batman series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
A Deal Gone Wrong
Okay again I wanted to add more to this chapter but I thought I might as well just post an update lol. Sorry but this entire chapter is a flashback. I PROMISE THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL HAVE SMUT! LOL. But I'm trying to get this junk resolved because I know where the story is going. (You'll see lol) Thanks again to everyone. I'm sorry I haven't been responding to your reviews and emails but I've seriously had no time for any of my hobbies lately but like "Darkness Takes Over" I got your reviews and I just wanted to say thank you for always posting nice reviews to my story. I promise I will read your stories soon and post a review! I know what it's like when you get no feedback on your writing, and when I have time to read I promise I will read all of your stories! And thanks to everyone else too as usual!
*
Flashback…
The Limo driver kept a cool demeanor despite being incredibly annoyed. He was used to it by now. He made sure to keep his head facing straight forward so that his passengers couldn’t see his scowl. Joey Biscotti was blowing smoke from the backseat and a cloud was drifting to the front and hovering around the driver’s head. He choked a little under his breath. “So this little fucker better have some good shit for the amount he’s chargin’ or I swear to God Frank I’ll shoot your pecker off and feed it to ‘em,” Joey spat before taking another puff from his cigar and blowing it obnoxiously at the back of the driver’s head.
The taller man sitting next to Joey gave him an uneasy look and was dead silent. “Aw come on I was just messin’ with ya!” Joey chuckled loudly and playfully punched Frank in the arm. His laughter died down and he cleared his throat. “Maybe.”
“Joey relax ‘uh? Like I said before, this guy, he’s supposedly a med student by day. He’s new ta the business but trust me. He’s got this new shit that’ll knock yer socks off. Swear to God,” said Frank, biting his tongue. The little asshole was lucky that his father was a mob boss otherwise Frank would’ve popped him years ago. “Anyway, I know some guys who’ve bought some shit off of him. The guy sounds like a whack job though. Calls himself the Scarecrow. But trust me, I’ve tried some of his shit and it’s killer.”
“Scarecrow? What kind of faggoty name is that?” Joey rubbed his nose and made a loud sniffing noise. He was still a little high from his earlier fix of Methamphetamine. Cheap shit. Meth was a lot cheaper than good Cocaine and easier to come by. But tonight Joey wanted to make sure he got the good shit. The best. As the son of a mob boss, he figured he should always get the best shit.
The limo pulled into a dark alleyway where a white van was already waiting for them. “Oooh a dark van, how mysterious,” Joey laughed loudly as if he were the funniest person in the world. The driver flinched at the sound of Joey’s loud obnoxious voice piercing his eardrums. They waited for the other party to exit their vehicle to make sure they were who they said they were. The door to the van however, wasn’t opening. “What the fuck’s taking so long?”
“Um, I think he’s waiting for us to get out first. I heard he’s kind of a timid pussy,” said Frank. “He probably doesn’t trust us either.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” huffed Joey and he cocked his gun then shoved it back into his pocket. “Let’s give him a nice warm welcome then shall we?” then he laughed that annoying obnoxious laugh of his and pushed Frank to open the door.
When they got out of a limo, an icy breeze hit them both. It was a cold night in Gotham, and the men could see their breath in the air. It felt like snow season was near. The back of the van finally opened and a skinny man wearing what almost looked like a potato sac on his head with eye holes cut into it, exited the vehicle holding a suitcase. The driver of the van, an unmasked young man holding a rather large machine gun, also exited the vehicle. “Good evening gentlemen,” the Scarecrow greeted them in a voice that sounded quite youthful.
Joey sneered. “So…what the fuck’s with the mask ‘uh?”
“I think it would be in my best interest to keep my identity concealed. After all, I do have a day job you know,” said the Scarecrow.
“Right, right. And who the hell’s this?” Joey scoffed and pointed to the armed gunman standing beside the Scarecrow.
“Oh my friend here? Just my hired gun. Can’t be too careful when you’re dealing with the mob ya know. I know how the mob works. This could be a trap and for all I know you could be planning to whack me and steal all the goods for yourself. But then where would you get the best possible medicinal items on the market? Hopefully you already know how valuable I could be to you,” said the Scarecrow.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” said Joey. “And with the ball busting price you’re chargin’ it better keep me high for a week straight! Otherwise I’ll bust YOUR balls.”
“I can assure you my good man, that all of my customers get hooked. Otherwise I wouldn’t be in this business,” he smiled behind his mask. “And I see you brought your own Bodyguard as well,” he motioned to Frank.
Joey laughed, a bit of spit spraying out of his lips. “Frank here? If he’s my bodyguard I must be suicidal. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw ‘em.” Frank bit his tongue. “Now let me see the shit. I wanna inspect the product first.”
“I’d like to see the money first if you don’t mind. You are a new customer after all. I need to make sure you can afford it. It is rather high class stuff,” said Scarecrow in a rather cocky tone.
Joey laughed obnoxiously again. “I don’t think you get it buddy. I wasn’t asking ya, I was tellin’ ya,” he whipped out his gun and pointed it at the Scarecrow. “Open up the fucking suitcase.”
“Joey,” Frank whispered in his ear, knowing Joey’s reputation all too well. “Relax ‘uh? It’s just a simple transaction. No need to get hot headed.”
“Shuddup Frank. I know a con artist when I see one,” snapped Joey.
The gunman by the Scarecrow readied his gun, but the Scarecrow calmly put a hand up to stop him. “No, no, it’s okay. Fine, you wanna take a gander at the product first? Help yourself.” With that he flipped open the suitcase and displayed it in front of Joey, revealing many small bags of white powder. “If you want, you can even take a test hit,” said the Scarecrow. “Only one hit though. I still don’t know if you’re going to rip me off.”
Joey picked up one of the bags and opened it up, glancing suspiciously at the masked man. He stuck his fingers into the small plastic baggy and pinched some of the white powder between his fingers then tasted it with his tongue. Scarecrow smiled behind his mask again. “Excellent quality no? Be careful now. Take just a little bit of that stuff and you’ll be bouncing off the walls for the rest of the night.”
Joey still had a sneer on his face. “Alright. We’ll take it,” he said then reached for the suitcase.
But the Scarecrow immediately pulled the suitcase away and slammed it shut. “Ah, ah,” he said, waggling a finger at them. “The money first.”
Joey forced a fake smile. “Of course,” he slapped Frank on the arm and gestured to the limo. “Frank, get his cash will ya?”
Frank nodded and opened up the back of the limo then pulled out a suitcase. He opened it up and displayed the many stacks of hundred dollar bills before the Scarecrow that were aligned inside. The scarecrow nodded and they exchanged suitcases in the alleyway. “I hope you’re happy buddy. I still feel like I’m gettin’ ripped off. Count yourself lucky ya got good references,” Joey spat before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a fresh cigar then sticking it in his mouth and lighting it.
“I can assure you that you won’t be disappointed,” said the Scarecrow in his young jovial voice.
“Yeah, yeah,” said Joey, taking a puff from his cigar. “ Sam. Start the car again and warm it up will ya?” he called to his driver. No answer. He took another puff of his cigar before turning around and looking at the limo, annoyed by the mere fact that his driver didn’t hear him. Joey was known to have a short fuse for stupid little things. “What’s the matter, you deaf or somethin’? Ya got the window rolled down ya moron. I said start the car and warm it up so’s we can get the fuck outta here,” He spat and looked through the passenger side window.
There he saw his driver’s head resting against the steering wheel. “What, you’re takin’ a fucking nap right now? Start the fucking….” Joey didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before his eyes adjusted and he realized that there was blood trickling from the driver’s head. “Shit,” Joey cursed under his breath and backed away from the limo, dropping his cigar.
“Joey what’s…” Frank started, but that’s all he managed to get out before a silent bullet swooshed down from a nearby rooftop and shot him in the head. Frank collapsed on the ground and died instantly, his blood leaking onto the pavement.
The scarecrow let out a high pitched squeal, one that wasn’t very masculine and he took off running to his van, leaving his gunman in the dirt. It took a second for his gunman to realize that his boss was already hopping in the van and starting it up. “Boss wait for me!” he yelled and scurried after the van, his feet splashing through puddles that were left over from a recent rain shower. The van’s tires screeched loudly as the Scarecrow floored it and the gunman managed to hop in the back of the vehicle while it was already moving.
“Fuck!” Screamed Joey and he frantically scanned the rooftops to see where the sniper was. He scrambled over to the driver’s side and struggled to open the door. The window was rolled down so he reached his hand inside and unlocked the door. He ducked inside the limo and hurriedly pushed the dead body out of the driver’s seat, and that’s when he felt a strong force grip his shirt from behind and yank him out of the vehicle.
Joey didn’t have time to blink before his arm was jerked behind him in a painful position, and a knife was pressed against his throat. He struggled and grunted, trying to break free from the other man’s vice like grip. But the tall, skinny man was somehow much too strong for him. He was running on pure adrenaline. “Sh, sh, sh,” a low menacing voice whispered in Joey’s ear from behind.
“W-what the fuck do you want?!” Joey screamed.
He heard a low, devious chuckle come from his captor. “Oooh I already got what I want. And I’ve only just begun,” he hissed in his ear, and teasingly nicked Joey’s throat with the knife, drawing a tiny bit of blood.
“F-fuck man, l-look whatever you want man, money? You want money? I got a whole stash of it in the limo. T-take it man, take it!” Joey fumbled, his voice starting to crack and revealing his fear. “What’s this about ‘uh? Look, whatever it is I can pay you off in full and then some.”
Another low and disturbing snicker was the response Joey received. “Money? Oh no, no, no Joey my dear boy. Little Joey Biscotti. It’s not about money,” he chuckled. “Nooo, it would never be about money,” he licked his lips and leaned in very close to his prisoner, to where his lips actually brushed against Joey’s ear. He could feel the short man shivering in his grasp. “It’s about…sending a message.”
Joey almost vomited when he felt a warm tongue slither into his ear. He felt like his heart was dropping down to his stomach and being digested. His worst fears were being realized, and he felt a cold sweat begin to leak out of his pores. He was going to be deathly ill. And this is exactly the way the Joker wanted him to feel. Let him think he’s about to be raped by a ‘faggot’ whose bigger and stronger than he is. The worst threat to his masculinity, and the biggest fear of any homophobe.
But as soon as Joey’s shock wore off and he began struggling at full force, violently screaming obscenities, the Joker sunk his teeth into Joey’s ear, tasting the salty blood as it leaked into his mouth. Then, like a hungry dog tearing into the flesh of a dead animal, the Joker tore off the tip of Joey’s ear and spat it onto the ground. Joey screamed, his voice echoing in the dark alleyway. “Aw shit! Aw fuck!”
The Joker howled with laughter, then shoved Joey’s body into the Limo so hard that the impact left a small dent in the door. The Joker continued to cackle like a raving lunatic as Joey held his bruised arm and turned to look at his captor for the first time. Standing over him, he saw a tall man dressed in an elaborate custom made purple suit. A suit that looked oddly familiar to Joey. The disturbing man’s face was painted with greasy clown makeup, and he was grinning wildly, his teeth stained with Joey’s blood.
The Joker kicked Joey in the shin with his hard shoe, causing Joey to wail in pain. The psychotic clown pushed his weight against Joey again and laughed in his face, unable to contain the mixed feelings that were coursing through his blood. He was overwhelmed with an odd mixture of uncontrollable rage and glee at the same time. He was ecstatic that he finally found who he was looking for, and he wanted to savor this moment for as long as possible. At the same time, he was having a hard time holding himself back from blowing Joey’s brains out.
But no, he would wait. There were many fates worse than death, and as far as the Joker was concerned, Joey deserved the worst possible fate known to man. A long and excruciatingly painful death. The Joker would pick him apart, piece my piece, and he would bury his remains outside the old abandoned carnival. He licked Joey’s blood off of his lips and it tasted oh so good. His gloved hand reached out and gripped Joey’s throat, and he brought the knife back up to his face with the other.
He saw Joey’s eyes grow wide at the sight of the knife. The Joker twirled the small knife in his fingers and it glinted in the moonlight. “Hmm, my, my, my. Little Joey Biscotti. Spoiled brat son of a mob boss. Whatever shall I do with you hmm?” The Joker cackled insanely in Joey’s face. Joey could feel his hot breath.
“Heh,” the Joker heard a low grunt behind him over his loud chuckling. With his hand still clasped around Joey’s throat, he turned to see his very large companion standing behind him holding a sniper rifle.
“Croc,” the Joker said in a voice that sounded like he was greeting an old friend, his teeth still stained with blood. “So glad you could join us.”
Croc’s scaly face was grinning ear to ear. He had finally gotten to shoot something, and he found it highly enjoyable. “Heh, heh,” he laughed a little when he saw the bloody tip of Joey’s ear lying on the pavement next to the limo.
The Joker turned back to his captive, and licked his lips once more, lapping up the rest of the blood. “So, Joey. Long time no see eh? Whatchya been up to these days? Did ya miss me?”
“What the fuck are you talkin’ about clown?” Joey spat, shaking and gurgling, still in shock over his ear getting bitten off. He sneered up at the massive man standing behind the Joker, grinning down at him with jagged teeth, and baring a clearly visible skin disease. “What the fuck is this anyway? Is the circus in town or somethin’?” Joey laughed a little, still trying to act cocky despite revealing a hint of fear in his voice.
The Joker snickered. “Quite a large bark on such a tiny mutt eh Croc?”
Croc’s grin grew wider, showing off more of his crocodile-like teeth. “Heh.”
Joey looked back and forth at the two dangerous looking men. “Do you fucks know who I am?” he spat. “Either one of you freaks touch me and you’re dead. Won’t even take twenty-four hours. You hear me? Dead! You lay one fucked up, freakish finger on me and I swear to god, you’ll have to pick your own scattered body parts up off the freeway!”
The Joker cackled manically, so loudly that it pierced Joey’s eardrums. Croc’s laughter was more of a deep, raspy chuckle. His massive shoulders shifted up and down from his chuckling. Joey’s head glanced back and forth between them again, unable to hide the terror in his face. “Joey, Joey, Joey,” the Joker chanted in his deep, menacing voice. He leaned in closer, his dark eyes piercing into Joey’s soul. He brought the knife up closer to his lips, and pointed at them. “You wanna know how I got these scars?” He ran his tongue slowly over the jagged bumps of his scars. And that’s when it sunk in.
Joey’s eyes grew even wider. “No.”
“Yep,” the Joker responded nonchalantly. “So what’ll it be hmm?” He brought his knife up to the terrified man’s face, and tapped his cheek, resting it just under his left eye. “You know what they say? An eye for an eye hmm?” his booming laughter roared across the alleyway, sounding unearthly, like a demon laughing after he had just sprung his way out of hell.
The Joker inched the knife closer to Joey’s eyeball and he gently touched his tear duct with it. Joey began struggling again when he figured out what the Joker planned to do. “No,” he breathed. The Joker pinned him harder against the limo. “No!”
“Heh,” Croc chuckled again, excited to see a show.
Just when the Joker was about to begin on his long awaited project, an extremely bright beam of light from a squad car suddenly blinded the three men. The police siren whistled, as a cop car pulled into the alleyway.
“Aw crap,” Croc grunted, his smile turning into a disappointed frown. He appeared to be even more disappointed than the Joker was. He was upset that his entertainment was being interrupted. Joey remained frozen, his back pressed hard against the limo, afraid to make any sudden movements since the Joker still had the knife dangerously close to his eyeball.
“Well, well. Looks like some more guests have decided to show up,” said the Joker, still grinning unnervingly.
Croc cocked his rifle. “You want me to take ‘em out boss?”
“No, no not yet,” said the Joker. “Perhaps we should let them stay for the show first. After all, the party has only just begun.”
*
I'm tired so I had to end it here. I apologize. definate Stacey/Harley in next chapter LOL. :)
*
Flashback…
The Limo driver kept a cool demeanor despite being incredibly annoyed. He was used to it by now. He made sure to keep his head facing straight forward so that his passengers couldn’t see his scowl. Joey Biscotti was blowing smoke from the backseat and a cloud was drifting to the front and hovering around the driver’s head. He choked a little under his breath. “So this little fucker better have some good shit for the amount he’s chargin’ or I swear to God Frank I’ll shoot your pecker off and feed it to ‘em,” Joey spat before taking another puff from his cigar and blowing it obnoxiously at the back of the driver’s head.
The taller man sitting next to Joey gave him an uneasy look and was dead silent. “Aw come on I was just messin’ with ya!” Joey chuckled loudly and playfully punched Frank in the arm. His laughter died down and he cleared his throat. “Maybe.”
“Joey relax ‘uh? Like I said before, this guy, he’s supposedly a med student by day. He’s new ta the business but trust me. He’s got this new shit that’ll knock yer socks off. Swear to God,” said Frank, biting his tongue. The little asshole was lucky that his father was a mob boss otherwise Frank would’ve popped him years ago. “Anyway, I know some guys who’ve bought some shit off of him. The guy sounds like a whack job though. Calls himself the Scarecrow. But trust me, I’ve tried some of his shit and it’s killer.”
“Scarecrow? What kind of faggoty name is that?” Joey rubbed his nose and made a loud sniffing noise. He was still a little high from his earlier fix of Methamphetamine. Cheap shit. Meth was a lot cheaper than good Cocaine and easier to come by. But tonight Joey wanted to make sure he got the good shit. The best. As the son of a mob boss, he figured he should always get the best shit.
The limo pulled into a dark alleyway where a white van was already waiting for them. “Oooh a dark van, how mysterious,” Joey laughed loudly as if he were the funniest person in the world. The driver flinched at the sound of Joey’s loud obnoxious voice piercing his eardrums. They waited for the other party to exit their vehicle to make sure they were who they said they were. The door to the van however, wasn’t opening. “What the fuck’s taking so long?”
“Um, I think he’s waiting for us to get out first. I heard he’s kind of a timid pussy,” said Frank. “He probably doesn’t trust us either.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” huffed Joey and he cocked his gun then shoved it back into his pocket. “Let’s give him a nice warm welcome then shall we?” then he laughed that annoying obnoxious laugh of his and pushed Frank to open the door.
When they got out of a limo, an icy breeze hit them both. It was a cold night in Gotham, and the men could see their breath in the air. It felt like snow season was near. The back of the van finally opened and a skinny man wearing what almost looked like a potato sac on his head with eye holes cut into it, exited the vehicle holding a suitcase. The driver of the van, an unmasked young man holding a rather large machine gun, also exited the vehicle. “Good evening gentlemen,” the Scarecrow greeted them in a voice that sounded quite youthful.
Joey sneered. “So…what the fuck’s with the mask ‘uh?”
“I think it would be in my best interest to keep my identity concealed. After all, I do have a day job you know,” said the Scarecrow.
“Right, right. And who the hell’s this?” Joey scoffed and pointed to the armed gunman standing beside the Scarecrow.
“Oh my friend here? Just my hired gun. Can’t be too careful when you’re dealing with the mob ya know. I know how the mob works. This could be a trap and for all I know you could be planning to whack me and steal all the goods for yourself. But then where would you get the best possible medicinal items on the market? Hopefully you already know how valuable I could be to you,” said the Scarecrow.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” said Joey. “And with the ball busting price you’re chargin’ it better keep me high for a week straight! Otherwise I’ll bust YOUR balls.”
“I can assure you my good man, that all of my customers get hooked. Otherwise I wouldn’t be in this business,” he smiled behind his mask. “And I see you brought your own Bodyguard as well,” he motioned to Frank.
Joey laughed, a bit of spit spraying out of his lips. “Frank here? If he’s my bodyguard I must be suicidal. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw ‘em.” Frank bit his tongue. “Now let me see the shit. I wanna inspect the product first.”
“I’d like to see the money first if you don’t mind. You are a new customer after all. I need to make sure you can afford it. It is rather high class stuff,” said Scarecrow in a rather cocky tone.
Joey laughed obnoxiously again. “I don’t think you get it buddy. I wasn’t asking ya, I was tellin’ ya,” he whipped out his gun and pointed it at the Scarecrow. “Open up the fucking suitcase.”
“Joey,” Frank whispered in his ear, knowing Joey’s reputation all too well. “Relax ‘uh? It’s just a simple transaction. No need to get hot headed.”
“Shuddup Frank. I know a con artist when I see one,” snapped Joey.
The gunman by the Scarecrow readied his gun, but the Scarecrow calmly put a hand up to stop him. “No, no, it’s okay. Fine, you wanna take a gander at the product first? Help yourself.” With that he flipped open the suitcase and displayed it in front of Joey, revealing many small bags of white powder. “If you want, you can even take a test hit,” said the Scarecrow. “Only one hit though. I still don’t know if you’re going to rip me off.”
Joey picked up one of the bags and opened it up, glancing suspiciously at the masked man. He stuck his fingers into the small plastic baggy and pinched some of the white powder between his fingers then tasted it with his tongue. Scarecrow smiled behind his mask again. “Excellent quality no? Be careful now. Take just a little bit of that stuff and you’ll be bouncing off the walls for the rest of the night.”
Joey still had a sneer on his face. “Alright. We’ll take it,” he said then reached for the suitcase.
But the Scarecrow immediately pulled the suitcase away and slammed it shut. “Ah, ah,” he said, waggling a finger at them. “The money first.”
Joey forced a fake smile. “Of course,” he slapped Frank on the arm and gestured to the limo. “Frank, get his cash will ya?”
Frank nodded and opened up the back of the limo then pulled out a suitcase. He opened it up and displayed the many stacks of hundred dollar bills before the Scarecrow that were aligned inside. The scarecrow nodded and they exchanged suitcases in the alleyway. “I hope you’re happy buddy. I still feel like I’m gettin’ ripped off. Count yourself lucky ya got good references,” Joey spat before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a fresh cigar then sticking it in his mouth and lighting it.
“I can assure you that you won’t be disappointed,” said the Scarecrow in his young jovial voice.
“Yeah, yeah,” said Joey, taking a puff from his cigar. “ Sam. Start the car again and warm it up will ya?” he called to his driver. No answer. He took another puff of his cigar before turning around and looking at the limo, annoyed by the mere fact that his driver didn’t hear him. Joey was known to have a short fuse for stupid little things. “What’s the matter, you deaf or somethin’? Ya got the window rolled down ya moron. I said start the car and warm it up so’s we can get the fuck outta here,” He spat and looked through the passenger side window.
There he saw his driver’s head resting against the steering wheel. “What, you’re takin’ a fucking nap right now? Start the fucking….” Joey didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before his eyes adjusted and he realized that there was blood trickling from the driver’s head. “Shit,” Joey cursed under his breath and backed away from the limo, dropping his cigar.
“Joey what’s…” Frank started, but that’s all he managed to get out before a silent bullet swooshed down from a nearby rooftop and shot him in the head. Frank collapsed on the ground and died instantly, his blood leaking onto the pavement.
The scarecrow let out a high pitched squeal, one that wasn’t very masculine and he took off running to his van, leaving his gunman in the dirt. It took a second for his gunman to realize that his boss was already hopping in the van and starting it up. “Boss wait for me!” he yelled and scurried after the van, his feet splashing through puddles that were left over from a recent rain shower. The van’s tires screeched loudly as the Scarecrow floored it and the gunman managed to hop in the back of the vehicle while it was already moving.
“Fuck!” Screamed Joey and he frantically scanned the rooftops to see where the sniper was. He scrambled over to the driver’s side and struggled to open the door. The window was rolled down so he reached his hand inside and unlocked the door. He ducked inside the limo and hurriedly pushed the dead body out of the driver’s seat, and that’s when he felt a strong force grip his shirt from behind and yank him out of the vehicle.
Joey didn’t have time to blink before his arm was jerked behind him in a painful position, and a knife was pressed against his throat. He struggled and grunted, trying to break free from the other man’s vice like grip. But the tall, skinny man was somehow much too strong for him. He was running on pure adrenaline. “Sh, sh, sh,” a low menacing voice whispered in Joey’s ear from behind.
“W-what the fuck do you want?!” Joey screamed.
He heard a low, devious chuckle come from his captor. “Oooh I already got what I want. And I’ve only just begun,” he hissed in his ear, and teasingly nicked Joey’s throat with the knife, drawing a tiny bit of blood.
“F-fuck man, l-look whatever you want man, money? You want money? I got a whole stash of it in the limo. T-take it man, take it!” Joey fumbled, his voice starting to crack and revealing his fear. “What’s this about ‘uh? Look, whatever it is I can pay you off in full and then some.”
Another low and disturbing snicker was the response Joey received. “Money? Oh no, no, no Joey my dear boy. Little Joey Biscotti. It’s not about money,” he chuckled. “Nooo, it would never be about money,” he licked his lips and leaned in very close to his prisoner, to where his lips actually brushed against Joey’s ear. He could feel the short man shivering in his grasp. “It’s about…sending a message.”
Joey almost vomited when he felt a warm tongue slither into his ear. He felt like his heart was dropping down to his stomach and being digested. His worst fears were being realized, and he felt a cold sweat begin to leak out of his pores. He was going to be deathly ill. And this is exactly the way the Joker wanted him to feel. Let him think he’s about to be raped by a ‘faggot’ whose bigger and stronger than he is. The worst threat to his masculinity, and the biggest fear of any homophobe.
But as soon as Joey’s shock wore off and he began struggling at full force, violently screaming obscenities, the Joker sunk his teeth into Joey’s ear, tasting the salty blood as it leaked into his mouth. Then, like a hungry dog tearing into the flesh of a dead animal, the Joker tore off the tip of Joey’s ear and spat it onto the ground. Joey screamed, his voice echoing in the dark alleyway. “Aw shit! Aw fuck!”
The Joker howled with laughter, then shoved Joey’s body into the Limo so hard that the impact left a small dent in the door. The Joker continued to cackle like a raving lunatic as Joey held his bruised arm and turned to look at his captor for the first time. Standing over him, he saw a tall man dressed in an elaborate custom made purple suit. A suit that looked oddly familiar to Joey. The disturbing man’s face was painted with greasy clown makeup, and he was grinning wildly, his teeth stained with Joey’s blood.
The Joker kicked Joey in the shin with his hard shoe, causing Joey to wail in pain. The psychotic clown pushed his weight against Joey again and laughed in his face, unable to contain the mixed feelings that were coursing through his blood. He was overwhelmed with an odd mixture of uncontrollable rage and glee at the same time. He was ecstatic that he finally found who he was looking for, and he wanted to savor this moment for as long as possible. At the same time, he was having a hard time holding himself back from blowing Joey’s brains out.
But no, he would wait. There were many fates worse than death, and as far as the Joker was concerned, Joey deserved the worst possible fate known to man. A long and excruciatingly painful death. The Joker would pick him apart, piece my piece, and he would bury his remains outside the old abandoned carnival. He licked Joey’s blood off of his lips and it tasted oh so good. His gloved hand reached out and gripped Joey’s throat, and he brought the knife back up to his face with the other.
He saw Joey’s eyes grow wide at the sight of the knife. The Joker twirled the small knife in his fingers and it glinted in the moonlight. “Hmm, my, my, my. Little Joey Biscotti. Spoiled brat son of a mob boss. Whatever shall I do with you hmm?” The Joker cackled insanely in Joey’s face. Joey could feel his hot breath.
“Heh,” the Joker heard a low grunt behind him over his loud chuckling. With his hand still clasped around Joey’s throat, he turned to see his very large companion standing behind him holding a sniper rifle.
“Croc,” the Joker said in a voice that sounded like he was greeting an old friend, his teeth still stained with blood. “So glad you could join us.”
Croc’s scaly face was grinning ear to ear. He had finally gotten to shoot something, and he found it highly enjoyable. “Heh, heh,” he laughed a little when he saw the bloody tip of Joey’s ear lying on the pavement next to the limo.
The Joker turned back to his captive, and licked his lips once more, lapping up the rest of the blood. “So, Joey. Long time no see eh? Whatchya been up to these days? Did ya miss me?”
“What the fuck are you talkin’ about clown?” Joey spat, shaking and gurgling, still in shock over his ear getting bitten off. He sneered up at the massive man standing behind the Joker, grinning down at him with jagged teeth, and baring a clearly visible skin disease. “What the fuck is this anyway? Is the circus in town or somethin’?” Joey laughed a little, still trying to act cocky despite revealing a hint of fear in his voice.
The Joker snickered. “Quite a large bark on such a tiny mutt eh Croc?”
Croc’s grin grew wider, showing off more of his crocodile-like teeth. “Heh.”
Joey looked back and forth at the two dangerous looking men. “Do you fucks know who I am?” he spat. “Either one of you freaks touch me and you’re dead. Won’t even take twenty-four hours. You hear me? Dead! You lay one fucked up, freakish finger on me and I swear to god, you’ll have to pick your own scattered body parts up off the freeway!”
The Joker cackled manically, so loudly that it pierced Joey’s eardrums. Croc’s laughter was more of a deep, raspy chuckle. His massive shoulders shifted up and down from his chuckling. Joey’s head glanced back and forth between them again, unable to hide the terror in his face. “Joey, Joey, Joey,” the Joker chanted in his deep, menacing voice. He leaned in closer, his dark eyes piercing into Joey’s soul. He brought the knife up closer to his lips, and pointed at them. “You wanna know how I got these scars?” He ran his tongue slowly over the jagged bumps of his scars. And that’s when it sunk in.
Joey’s eyes grew even wider. “No.”
“Yep,” the Joker responded nonchalantly. “So what’ll it be hmm?” He brought his knife up to the terrified man’s face, and tapped his cheek, resting it just under his left eye. “You know what they say? An eye for an eye hmm?” his booming laughter roared across the alleyway, sounding unearthly, like a demon laughing after he had just sprung his way out of hell.
The Joker inched the knife closer to Joey’s eyeball and he gently touched his tear duct with it. Joey began struggling again when he figured out what the Joker planned to do. “No,” he breathed. The Joker pinned him harder against the limo. “No!”
“Heh,” Croc chuckled again, excited to see a show.
Just when the Joker was about to begin on his long awaited project, an extremely bright beam of light from a squad car suddenly blinded the three men. The police siren whistled, as a cop car pulled into the alleyway.
“Aw crap,” Croc grunted, his smile turning into a disappointed frown. He appeared to be even more disappointed than the Joker was. He was upset that his entertainment was being interrupted. Joey remained frozen, his back pressed hard against the limo, afraid to make any sudden movements since the Joker still had the knife dangerously close to his eyeball.
“Well, well. Looks like some more guests have decided to show up,” said the Joker, still grinning unnervingly.
Croc cocked his rifle. “You want me to take ‘em out boss?”
“No, no not yet,” said the Joker. “Perhaps we should let them stay for the show first. After all, the party has only just begun.”
*
I'm tired so I had to end it here. I apologize. definate Stacey/Harley in next chapter LOL. :)