Freak is an Ugly Word

Here's another chapter out for all of you. I hope that you enjoy it. Thank you for all those that have reviewed. Please continue to do so. If you don't like a part in my story, please tell me. I want to know the good and bad that way I can make it better and grow as an author. Thank you!

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Alone in the dark, Princess laid on the bed. She was alone because Mike had called Croc back in when the club had gotten bust. It was dark because a large majority of the Narrows still did not have power. Princess did not mind the darkness that consumed the contents of her room. In fact, she welcomed it. The darkness did not allow her to see the abhorrence of her life. The horrible way she was forced to live. In the darkness, she could imagine that she was somewhere else. Somewhere far away from Gotham. A nice place where she could live a different life. A life full of happiness and cheer. A life that could never be hers.

A sigh escaped Princess’ lips as she lay on the bed cuddled next to Croc’s pillow. It smelled greatly of the man and she felt herself missing him, though he had only been gone for the better part of ten minutes or so. A dull ache in her heart at the thought of the man pained her. She had made him hurt her, and she felt guilty. The guilt was made worse for the man felt it as well.

At that moment, she hated Andy more than ever. Hated him with every fiber of her being she could muster. It was his fault that she was feeling the way she was. But more than him, she hated herself. Hated herself for letting the man do to her whatever he pleased. Never fought him just took it. It was the same for every man.

A light tapping came from the door and someone walked in. “Jesus, Princess,” Bob’s voice called to her, “it’s fuckin’ dark in here.” He flipped on the light switch and Princess was momentarily blinded. She had not even realized that the power had been turned back on; none of the buildings around her had their lights on. Bob’s smiling face turned to her. “Get up!” he commanded. “You have work to do.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m hurt.”

A sigh left Bob as he ran his long fingers through his hair. “I know. I heard ‘bout it. Normally, I would let it go, but not tonight. That guys back and he’s askin’ for ya. He won’ take anyone but cha.” He walked to the bed and knelt down so that he was face to face with the still laying Princess. “With how much money this man is dishing out, I can’t refuse him. I don’ know where he got it all, but he’s got a lot. He doesn’t seem to care an ounce ‘bout it either.”

The lowest growl Princess had ever issued came from deep within her chest. She sat up quickly, paining herself and frightening Bob. “Fine!” she shouted. “I’ll fuckin’ go! Gotta take a shower first! The man likes his women clean!”

The corner of Bob’s mouth twitched as he fought back a smirk, watching her storm to the bathroom. That was the first time he had witness Princess actually getting upset over something. Normally, the girl was quiet and would rarely speak to people. He understood the reasoning. She was frightened that anything that came out of her mouth would get her hurt. Seeing the girl upset was a refreshing sight. Made him have some small hope for her in the near future. Any fight in her would help ensure her survival in Gotham.

The inhabitants of Gotham were known to prey on the weak. To survive the worst city in the world, there was only one possible way. To fight back. To become one of the fit. Gotham would eat anyone alive if they did not do so. To not fight is to die. No one wants to be put into an early grave.

While waiting for Princess to finish in the shower, Bob sat in the chair closest to the bed. Impatiently, he drummed his fingers against the wood. To pass the time, he started to count the seconds away. Doing so did not help in the least, just made him more aggravated at how long the young woman was taking in the shower. He was ready to rip her out of it and drag her out of the apartment, dressed or not.

Bob was not normally an impatient man. In all actuality, he was the calmest and could wait around for hours. That night was a different case. He was frightened. Frightened of the man that wore the clown face paint and long purple jacket. After spending only a few minutes in the room with the man, anyone in their right minds would be scared. The way he spoke, the way he stood slouching, his high pitched cackle, the way he smiled. Everything about the man screamed danger.

When Bob had first come into contact with Joker, he later learned his name, he had wanted to turn him down on the spot. But found himself unable when he asked specifically for Princess. No matter how frightening the customer was, Princess was not allowed to turn them away. So, with his hands shaking, Bob had taken the man’s money and went after the girl. Later that night, he regretted his choice.

Bib had told him what he had done. That he had mentioned Princess to the man. At that time, no one had known what Joker was capable of, but that night, they had all found out. Bib had been informed that earlier that evening, Joker had killed Gambol. He had sliced his cheek open and left the man to bleed to death, all the while Gambol’s men fought to the death so that one of them might survive.

After learning all of this, why would Bob still take the man’s money? Simple, he was scared shitless if he refused the man, he would end up as those men had. Dead or dying. Bob did not want to die, and protecting a whore was not a good enough reason to. Bob liked all the girls, and cared for them, but not enough to die for them. The only thing Bob wanted to die from was old age. Old age sounded real good compared to the alternative.

A question popped into Bob’s mind. The same question that had been bothering him since he talked to Bib. What exactly does Joker want with Princess? What benefit was there by using her? Princess was a prostitute, so there was an obvious answer. But Bob knew there was more to it than that. Thinking hard, he saw no other benefit to the girl. Princess was not all that bright, she was young, and had no uses beyond sex. None of those attributes were enough for Bob to want the girl.

His ears perked up when he heard the shower turn off. A few seconds later, Princess came out a towel wrapped firmly around her, her hair still soaked from the water that had spilled on it. The bruise on her neck stood more thanks to the darkness of her wet hair. Seeing the bruise did not raise any reaction from the man sitting in the chair. Bob had seen the girl covered in bruises and cuts that he was now immune to their initial effect.

Her dainty feet padded quietly on the thin carpet as she walked to the dresser. As she walked by, Bob got a whiff of the shampoo that she had used. It smelled of strawberries. He liked the smell of strawberries. His ex had used the same sent of shampoo. At that thought of the woman, he felt a small stirring in his pants. That woman had been had been the instrument of his lust, and possibly the love of his life. But that was all over now, Andy had her. The good for nothing bastard. Everyone, but her, knew that he was just using her to be close to Princess. Poor Shelly, she was always the gullible one.

Princess looked at him over her shoulder. “Could you turn around, please?”

Bob shook his head. “You have got to be the shyest hooker I know.”

“Just shut up and turn around!”

Throwing his hands up in defeat, Bob complied to Princess’ request. He tapped his forefinger on his thigh to the beat of a song that he was singing in his head. Anxious to go, he kept glancing over his shoulder to see if she was done. They were quick glances and he saw mostly nothing.

When Princess finally proclaimed that she was done, Bob shot out of the chair so fast that he nearly knocked it over. “Let’s get goin’.” Before she so much as uttered a syllable, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her out of the apartment, only giving her time to shut it. He did not see a point in Princess locking the door, her and Croc did not have anything worth stealing. Most of their money went to food, bills, and weed. They lived such a simple life.

Bob was different. He liked to spend his money on expensive things. He made enough, so why not do it? The first thing he always made sure of was that his bills were paid. Wasting his money was just fine with him, as long as his responsibilities were taken care of first. But, then again, he did make more than Princess and Croc put together. He could afford to waste his money.

After ten minutes of being dragged behind Princess, she finally could not take it any longer. The man was walking at such a fast past, she could not keep up. The pain that shot through her did not help the matter. Getting ready to yell at the man dragging her behind him, she was pleasantly surprised when he came to a sudden halt.

“We’re here!” Bob overenthusiastically exclaimed. Princess could tell that the man was nervous about something, but she did not comment on the matter. “Now,” he started, turning to her, “go and make some money. I’ll see ya later.” With a wave, he left Princess to herself.

Princess watched him leave, thinking of how strangely he was acting. Once he was out of sight, her attention turned to Bib’s. The building seemed to loom over her tiny form. She shrank in its daunting presence. Something was not right, and she could feel it. Feel it in the core of her very being. But, being Princess, she ignored the feeling and walked into the hotel.

Bib was in his usual spot at the front desk and greeted her when she walked in. “You’re in da same room as last time. He’s in there waitin’ for ya.”

“Thanks,” she muttered. Walking away, she made her way up to the room. The hardest part of her journey was the steps. With every lift of her foot on the high steps, pain coursed through her body. She had to pause once or twice until the pain receded to a dull ache.

After what had seemed like an eternity passed, she finally reached the door to the room. Not wasting any time, she opened the door and entered the room. At that point, she just wanted to go home. The faster she got it over with, the sooner she could do so.

Closing the door and turning around, she was shocked to see him on the bed. It was no his presence that shocked her, she had known he was going to be in there, it was his appearance. The greasy green hair that curled ever so slightly, the chalk white painted face with charcoal black around the eyes and red that covered his lips and almost went to his ears, the bright purple jacket and pants, which were raised just enough that she caught a glimpse of his patchwork socks, and the bright green vest mostly hidden by the jacket. Princess was used to weird men, but he was beyond weird. What he wore was so strange, it was tacky. It almost hurt her eyes just looking at it.

Joker, he had told her to call him Joker. Now, she could see why. Nothing he wore could be taken seriously. Too much purple, too much green. That man was just begging to get laughed at. She briefly wondered why Gordon had such an interest in the man. If he was only robbing banks, what exactly was the problem? It was not like he was murdering people, or blowing things up. Just stealing money.

With a big grin on his face, he turned and faced her. “Good evening, Princess. Surprised to see me?”

Princess shrugged her shoulders. “Ya told me you’d be back. Didn’ expect it to be so soon though.”

That had not been what Joker meant, but he shrugged it off. He knew that appearances weren’t everything to the girl. If they were, then she would not have been able to stand the sight of Croc. Croc, one of the few men that could make him feel handsome.

Noticing that Princess was still standing, he pated the spot on the bed next to him with a purple gloved hand. “Why don’t cha take a seat? I don’t bite… hard.”

A small smile on her face flickered like the flame of a candle. It was there, and then it vanished as if someone had blown it away. She studied the man for a few more heart beats, then, deciding it best, walked and sat next to him her legs dangling off the edge of the bed. With her right hand, she played with the thumb of her left. There was nothing interesting about it; she just did not know what to do.

Silence. A dreadfully awkward silence filled the room. It caused her to fidget and feel slightly uncomfortable. Sitting on a bed next to a man was not what she was used to. Usually, they pounce on her as soon as she closed the door, sometimes even before that.
Why was he just laying there? Was he waiting for her to make the first move? Princess did not know how to do that. She had never had to make the first move. The men always did the work for her. She did not like it. The whole waiting around thing was making her nervous.

When the bed started to shift as he moved, Princess felt relieved. His hand brushed her hair to the side, the leather material of his gloves catching on it slightly. It was not until his forefinger came into contact with her neck did she stiffen. The bruise! She had completely forgotten about it. Normally, she would have covered it with a few heavy layers of foundation, but she had been rushed. Bob had been in an awful hurry to set out, and she had just wanted to make the trip as short as possible. The bruising Andy had given her had flittered out of her mind.

“Looks like someone hurt cha, Princess,” he stated dully. The sound of his voice sent shivers down her spine. So childish, yet so menacing. A combination she had never heard before. “Who was it?”

Before she had time to think about it about it, the names spilled from her lips. “Andy,” she whispered her voice harsh and dry like sandpaper. Why had she even told him? She did not know; it had just come out. It was as if she had felt the need to tell him when normally she would have kept her mouth shut.

“Poor, poor, Princess. Always gettin’ hurt.” His finger slowly ran up and down her neck. “Such a harsh life to live for someone so young.” Hot breath kissed her ear causing yet again another shiver. His lips were so close, she could feel them barely brush against the flesh of her lobe. “You know,” he paused to lick his lips and Princess felt it flick across her ear, “I can give you a way out. All you have to do is walk out that door with me and never look back.”

Staring at the door, Princess stiffened. Her hands griped the near nonexistent material of her skirt in her fist tightly, wrinkling it. The man was offering her something she had only dreamed of before. A way out of her life, the life she hated so very much. It sounded almost too good to be true, and Princess was very used to disappointment.

But what if he was not lying? What if he was truly offering her her freedom, the thing she desired above all else. She would take it. Anything to get out from under the mob. Anything to live a life that was not full of drugs, sex, and pain. She would take it and never look back. Leaving Croc and the very few friends she had would pain her, but all of them had told her if given the chance to get out, take it without regret. And so she did. She took his offer with a simple, “Okay.” Later, but not too much later, she would learn to regret her decision. By then, she would be in a padded cell in the deepest bowels of Arkham so close to the man she could hear his laughter that billowed through the cracks of the door like a poisonous fog suffocating her, curled up in a little ball thinking of how she sold her soul to the Devil himself in the guise of a man.

A large grin spread across Joker’s face making him appear as the Cheshire Cat. The grin was unseen by Princess for she still stared at the door longingly. It was just too easy to get the girl. She was too simple minded. Years of abuse had made it facile for the man to seduce her with grandeurs of freedom in so few words.

Why would a man of Joker’s stature want someone so young and gullible? The answer to that question was easily attainable. He needed something to pass the time away while his plan, he hated that word, for the city fruited like an apple tree in the orchard. She was, also, his test subject. He wanted to know how deep he could dig into a person’s mind before it melted in his hands like an unwrapped chocolate bar on a sunny day. For his first try, he did not want a challenge and Princess, the simple minded fool, would be the perfect guinea pig.

Joker wanted to break her feeble mind. Recreate her in the image that his devious mind had processed for her. To tear her open and rip apart every individual aspect of her and change them. Cult leaders did the same thing, but he did not want a bumbling follower, he had plenty of those. No, what Joker wanted was to make her different. Change her views of the world. Princess already had a dark view of the world, but she did not hate it. He wanted her to hate it. Hate everything about it.

“Can I go home and get some stuff?” Princess asked the man, still staring at the door.
She felt him shake his head. “No, no. I told you, no looking back.”

Biting her lower lip, Princess felt tears well in her eyes. She knew it meant she could not say goodbye to those she cared about as well. There were so few of them, but she wanted to at least let them know what was happening. Let them know that she had found her out. That she would no longer be a slave, but free. Free of the mob, free of her father’s debt, free of the harmful hands of those that ruled over her.

A dull ache in her chest told her she was going to miss the ones she cared for. Harley, the oldest out of them, always having a smile for her, caring for her like she was her own daughter and not a friend. Princess had always looked to the woman as more of a mother than a friend. The mother she never really had. Selina, her first friend that she had made when she thought it not possible to do so. The one who always looked after her and protected her as best to her abilities. Holly, Selina’s little sister. Holly, the one that never left the confines of the apartment she shared with her sister. Holly the recluse. Princess found that she could always talk to Holly, someone close to her own age. The girl would listen to her and give her advice that was always in the benefit of Princess. The one that understood the fear that she felt of the outside world. And Croc. She would miss Croc the most. He was the only man that had found the ability to love her, though she did not know why. She would never understand it, but liked the feeling none the less, albeit she felt horrible that she would never find it in herself to return his feelings. Princess could not love; nothing in the world had given her reasoning to.

The tears that welled in her eyes spilled forth at her thoughts of the ones she would leave behind. “Now, now, no cryin’ Princess. I thought you’d be happy.”

Princess was happy. Very happy. But the thought of leaving the only people who gave an inkling about her still hurt. She wanted to stay with them, but she wanted to escape more. It had been the only dream she had since she was fourteen years old.

Not to make Joker change his mind, she wiped the tears away and stopped their flow. It was a harder task than she had imagined. Every time that she forced them back, more would come. They pushed against each other, forcing the others out so that there was room for more. If she did not get a hold of herself soon, she feared the man would change his mind.

The grin on Joker’s face widen, appearing like the crevice of the Grand Canyon, at the site of her uncontrollable tears. If she was upset about leaving behind people, which he knew that was the reason for the salty water droplets now pooling in her lap, it make her all the easier to break. She truly was not going to be much of a challenge for the man. Already, she was crumbling around the edges and all he did was whisper what she had wanted to hear. So much like the serpent whispering in Eve’s ear convincing her to partake in the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.

His tongue flickered out of his mouth and across his lips much like that serpent. “Don’t you wanna leave Princess?” he asked her barley above that of a whisper. “Don’t you wanna get out of here?” She nodded, her sobs stealing away her ability to speak. “You’re tears are tellin’ me differently. Tellin’ me that you want to stay. Maybe I should just leave you here.”

When he went to get off the bed, Princess grabbed his jacket desperately as if her life depended on it. To her, it did. Joker was her last hope, her only hope. “Please, don’t. I’m sorry. I can’ help it. They just keep comin’.” Her head feel forward onto his chest, smelling the sent of gunpowder she loved so much. The smell helped calm her, made her think of other things. Better things.

The girl’s now calm demeanor had Joker curious. Just what about him had quieted her so quickly? It was the same when he had first came into contact with her. ‘Gunpowder,’ she had whispered. That had to be the answer to the question in his deranged head. If she loved the smell of gunpowder so much, where she was going she would be surrounded by it. Consumed by it. Maybe, by the time it was all over, she would come to despise the smell. Hate everything that it would represent to her. He liked the sound of that. Make her hate something she liked so much.

He rubbed her back gently. He had to be gentle. If he was not, it would alarm her and his experiment would be all over and have nothing to show for it. He could not have that. The ending results had to be seen by the world. There had to be proof of what he had done, what he could do. This city, the city of Gotham, had to know the horrors of him. He’ll be introducing that to them real soon, but for now, Princess was on his mind. She was not his top priority, but she needed some attending to. Just ignoring her was not an option.

Remembering something, Princess pushed herself from Joker’s chest. “I left the jacket you gave me at home.”

The corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. A jacket should be the least of her worries. “I can always get you another. They did mass produce them.” Princess nodded in understanding. He was right; they do make more than one of any item. She could always have another, though she was attached to that specific one. “Now, are you ready to go, Princess?”

“Yes.”

“Then, let’s go.”

And so they left. Princess followed him. She followed the serpent with his whispers and sweet promises of freedom. In her naivety she never realized that it would turn so bitter, just as it had with Eve when she first partook in the fruit. With that first taste, she had condemned herself to an eternity of pain and suffering. Princess was not worried about the future, just the then. Just the man with the silver tongue that led her out of the room and her old life.

She was Eve, following the serpent and his forked tongue of lies.

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Just to clear some air here. No, I am not religious in any way. I just do my research and thought the whole Eve and the Serpent to be very fitting. I don't think I would be writing such a story if I were religious. So, please rate and review. More will be coming soon. Hope ya'll enjoyed it.