An Unlikely Encounter ch. 2

CHAPTER 2

God I'm hungry!

I've been walking around, distracted by my thoughts until I somehow managed to wander right into the center of Gotham City! The central part of the city is like, two miles from the Coup de la Fleur art studio.

What was I on?

I sighed to myself, exasperated by the thought of having to decide between taking a dirty, smelly Gotham taxi, dried vomit on the floor and bad-tempered illiterate taxi drivers, and, god forbid, WALKING home.

I tried my best not to think about that though, as I passed by the most posh, snooty, expensive dining hall in the City. The Palace Au Versailles. This is where Bruce Wayne and The mayor go to eat their meals. It usually holds the city's Christmas Bell Ball, an event that only invites the most exclusive of people. Celebrities almost.

Roxanne and I have always dreamed about attending one of their parties.

Roxanne sometimes jokes that we'd have to have sold some of our organs just to afford the type of clothing required for eligibility for entry into the grand hall.

Looking at that place always makes me die a little inside.

'Someday,' I thought.

Tearing myself away from my depressing thoughts, I turned my mind onto the most important topic at the moment.

Food.

Seeing as how I'm in the most populated area of the city, I'd say that a hamburger at McDonalds would be about seven dollars here.


I checked my wallet.

A deep dark pit of nothingness greeted me. As Always.

I let out an almost hysterical laugh. "Wonderful!" I exclaimed aloud, drawing looks from the people passing me by on the street. The stares that I was getting from the locals only caused me to laugh louder with a falsetto pitch.

I tried to tone it down a bit, seeing the children start to hide behind their parents and whatnot, that is, until I realized that the closest atm-machine was at the bank, which was located further downtown.

Yay more walking!

Grumbling to myself, taking care to place my best bitch-look on my face, I walked quickly down the street in the direction of the bank, and I decided to let my thoughts wander once more.

You know, no one could really come up with a reason for the Joker's two-year absence.

Some people hoped that the Batman had killed him, or if not him, then something else. Perhaps Jesus.

Some, like Roxanne, thought that he left the city for another, on the belief that he's had enough fun with the people of Gotham, and maybe he got bored.

Others, like me, knew deep down inside that the Joker hadn't left. And that he wasn't going to leave. I think he's planning something. Something big.

Of course, I could be wrong. I mean, I've held this belief for years, twistedly hoping that I'd get to see his face on the news once again. Or get some sign that he's alive and well. Something.

I smiled a bit while walking, thinking of what Roxanne would say if she knew my true feelings about the "gift" of the Joker being gone.

She'd send me strait to Arkham.

I arrived in front of the great staircase leading up to the main source of money in the city.

Gotham City Bank of America, or GCBA for short.

I Rolled my eyes and groaned at the fact that now I'm going to have to CLIMB the mountainous stairs leading up to the building after walking four miles strait in my least comfortable boots all day today. On an empty stomach on top of it.

Feeling the straining muscles in my legs, I trekked up the stairs, walked to the door, and collapsed onto a fancy overstuffed leather chair in the lobby of the bank.

I let out an unrestrained moan of content when my butt was absorbed into the cushioned seat, drawing attention to me for the second time today.

'Sigh. I'm too tired to give a shit right now,' were my last thoughts as my body surrendered to silky promises of comfort coming from the chair.

I don't know how long I slept.

But when I woke up, it was getting dark outside, and there were the scattered array of old women and children gossiping and giving me disgusted looks. I had to smile like that.

Roxanne would have freaked if she knew that I fell asleep in a public place like some homeless person on the street.

Reluctantly, I got up from my now warm resting place, my clothes sticking to the leather of the couch, and I carried myself up to the atm-machine to take some money from my account.

I didn't even get to insert my debit card when a powerful and unexpected explosion from the back entrance of the bank surrounded my senses.

Little containers were tossed high into the air, and once they hit the ground, laughing gas was released.

Quickly attempting to gather up my stuff and get away without being noticed, the sight of the barrel of a .75 glock greeted me, pointed in between my eyes.

A tall, burly man dressed up as a clown, make-up and all, wearing a gas mask, grabbed my arm, and shoved me roughly into the thicker area of laughing gas and people.

He pushed me into the crowd, causing me to stumble and fall.

Looking up from the floor, I saw a dark silhouette through the thick fog of the laughing gas. The shadowy figure let out a long, loud, maniacal laugh.

My head started to feel light, and a goofy smile appeared on my face. The knowledge that I was probably going to die invaded my mind, but the gas kept my mind from sending signals to my body.

I stayed on the floor.

I was drowsy.

I was hungry.

I was probably gonna die.

I was about to close my eyes, before a gloved hand came into my vision and through the fog, I could see a faint smile on the figure above me.

The voice spoke.

"Hey. Hey! It's alright Hon, just don't attract any attention to yourself and the Joker won't kill you." The man whispered. The sound barely audible compared to the loud ringing in my ears.

Slowly, with the stranger's help, I got up to my feet, and I began to take small, shallow breaths as to avoid getting too crazy off of the noxious gases in the air.

All the heads of the hostage crowd whipped around when we heard an overly familiar, loud, obnoxious, spine-tingling laugh.

I froze on the spot. "Wait," I mouthed, "No way,"

"Hello Boys and girls! And welcome to the party! Ha!" A dark figure emerged far away to my right, and from that distance, I could only make out the fact that he was wearing a long purple overcoat, and matching purple pants, a green vest, and a chain that was attached to the side of his hip.

Of course the last thing I would notice would be his face and hair. I used to always tend to see that part last.

There was no mistaking it now. The shadowy figure is, in fact, the Joker.

'Welcome home,' I thought before I could stop myself.

The same thing interrupted my thoughts again; that abrupt cackling laugh.

The Joker stood up on a large Oakwood desk furthest away from the small circle of people in the center of the room.

There was a knife in his hand. His laugh lowered in pitch and deepened in intensity making a shiver go up my spine.

"Well children, I feel like playing a game. Don't you?" The Joker paused to switch his knife to his other hand, and lick his lips simultaneously.

He jumped off of the desk, and began to swing his body, almost as if he were dancing, toward the crowd, a mischievous smile plastered onto his face.

"Yes," He inquired, "I think that a game would be the absolute per-fect way to, uh, start this party out with a," The Joker stopped walking, and made a gun with his first two fingers connected, and his thumb raised, "Bang."

The Joker's eyes scanned the crowd quickly, searching for something.

"Hmmmm... I think I wanna play a classic game... maybe... Hide and seek?" The Joker laughed abruptly, making the audience Jump or cringe. Some even cried.

I only smiled a little. I mean, C'mon. Gimme a break here, the dude's been "dead" for two years! I had almost lost all hope of his existence on this planet.

I sighed quietly. 'Not that I was supposed to have that kind of hope.' I thought, exasperated with myself.

The Joker had been pacing as my thoughts had run wild. His eyes were still scanning the crowd.

He turned on his heel and stood, looking as if he'd already come to a conclusion.

He grinned, "I'm sure you all know the rules of Hide-and-Seek, but just for those die-hard idiots, I'll explain them to you once more,"

"Somebody's gonna be 'It'. When the 'It' turns around to count, all the good little sheep are gonna hide, and when 'It' is done counting... 'It' is going. To. Find. You." He flashed us a large, toothy smile as he felt the curiosity rise from the crowd of hostages.

We all knew that there was a catch.

"Ha! There's no fooling you, huh Gotham? Yes, a nice little pussy game of Hide-and-Seek would be quite the pleasant surprise coming from me wouldn't it?" he smirked at us, "Unfortunately, all you babies will have to grow balls and man the fuck up. We're playing a big boy game now..."

He began to pace again, but slower this time.

"Yes, we're all big boys and girls now aren't we? And so, I say fuck that kind of kiddie game. Let's up the antics. You see this?" The Joker pulled a tiny device from the left pocket of his purple coat, and it had a big red button on it. He gestured to his hand and presented the little device for the entire crowd of people to see.

"This, my little sheep, is called a DETONATOR. And can anyone guess what this pretty little detonator might set off?" The Joker cupped his right ear with his right hand, and leaned toward the crowd, as is listening for a response to his question.

No one said anything. The answer was obvious.

A Bomb. The detonator sets off a bomb.

The Joker 'Harrumphed' exaggeratedly at our silence and chuckled quietly to himself.

"You guys are SUCH a great audience," The Joker licked his lips, "Well, despite your defiant silence, I'm sure that you all know the answer to. My. Question." The joker put on a falsetto voice, "But Joker? What do bombs have to do with the game hide-and-seek?" The Joker sucked on his bottom lip.

"Well, Peo-ple, I'm going to tell you what."

My heart dropped to my stomach. "I'm going to strap a bomb to 'It'. 'It' is going to look for all the little boys and girls one by one. And every single person. . ."

The Joker flipped his knife as he was finally approaching me, my heart beating in sync with his steps. Oh God.

"Must," The Joker licked his lips. Only a few more steps. . .

"Be," Two more steps.

"Found." The Joker himself stood right in front of me, and with my heart palpitating wildly inside my chest, I quickly look away, avoiding his eyes, but I stared at him through my side vision.

He pauses for a moment, and I can just barely make out his head tilting in curiosity.

Oh God.

He then walks away from me, and I let out the breath I was apparently holding.

Luckily, he didn't hear my loud exhale, as he starts to speak again.

"If 'It' doesn't find ev-e-ry single per-son, then I kill 'It', and everybody in the room. If 'It' finds ALMOST every person, for example, let's just say the 'It' doesn't find one measly little sheep. Then, 'It' will have the choice of letting the stray pig get the cut, or putting 'It'-self in my mercy. . ."

There were gasps scattered all around the room. Some people broke out into sobs, and others paled, looking petrified, almost like statues.

I, for one, felt nothing. On one hand, if I was gonna have to be 'It', and I lose, I'm at the Joker's mercy, and I could die by the Joker's hands. Which, for me, wouldn't be such a bad way to go I have to admit.

Jeez, I am such a weirdo. . .

But on the other hand. . .  well. . . even though dying on behalf of the Joker is more appealing than other ways of leaving this world, I really don't want to explode. I know for a fact that Roxy would be heartbroken if, not only did I die, but also that she wouldn't even get to dress up my dead carcass for my funeral.

I chuckled. My logic is so warped.

I seemed to have chuckled a bit too loudly though, because the Joker froze mid-step, his head whipping around angrily towards the source of the offensive sound. The Joker saw me chuckling, and he started palming and playing with the detonator and knife in his hands.

Almost like a warning.

The Joker tilted his head, "Is somebody. . ? Laughing at me?" He asked incredulously.

I didn't hear him, and I continued to chuckle quietly. High off of the Laughing gas in the room, with funny thoughts about how Roxanne would perform my funeral in mind, I didn't notice his furious glare at all.

The Joker gripped his weapons tightly in his fists, and pivoted so quickly, his shoes mimicked the sound of car tires squealing after a particularly hard turn.

In only a few long strides, Joker was towering over me, and then he leaned in close to my face.

I stopped chuckling.

He was so close, that I had no choice but to look into his pitch-black eyes; so dark, that I couldn't separate his pupils from his irises no matter how long I looked.

The Joker smiled big and toothy. 'Oh shit, that's never a good sign,' I thought.

"Hmmmm. . .  I'm pr-e-tt-y sure you know I always LOVE a good joke. . . care to tell me what exactly what is so funny?" The joker moistened his lips with his tongue, causing me to feel it lightly on my own upper lip. We were that close.

Shivers wracked my body, and I assume that the Joker interpreted this as fear, judging by the expression on his face, when it was actually an entirely opposite emotion.

Anticipation.

The Joker suddenly frowned. He seemed confused. I'm probably the only person to go this long staring into the Joker's eyes without any hint of a nervous glance or hatred.

Suddenly, the Joker leaned away from my face, and he grinned down at me. He barked out a laugh.

"Tell me little girl. . .  What is your name?"  He dragged out his words, with exaggerated curiosity and a smile resembling that of a maniac.

I looked right into his eyes.

"Katherine Quinzel," I responded. My voice unwavering.

The Joker looked taken aback for a moment. I guess he wasn't expecting me to answer him so quickly. Perhaps not even at all.

The Joker didn't say anything for a moment. Then he reached up, and took my chin between his thumb and index finger, and tilted my face so that he could get a better look at me.

Without releasing his hold on my face, the Joker leaned in close to me again, and whispered in my ear.

"I think I've found 'It' . . ."