An Unlikely Encounter ch.3

CHAPTER 3

For some reason, my heart dropped.

The Joker didn't say 'I think I've found 'It',' like he was discovering something new and precious; he said it like he was trying his hardest to overcome me with fear. He was trying to cause me pain.

Sigh, well what did I expect our first encounter to be like?

Roxy's words repeated in my head "Babe, The Joker would see you, and he'd just take you on the spot, due to the fact that you are just SO freaking beautiful, that he couldn't help himself," Yeah right, I thought bitterly.

The Joker, pleased to see some form of disappointment on my face, though still mildly surprised that I didn't hold any other stronger emotions coursing through my body, let go of my face, and strides away merrily.

The Joker opened his arms extravagantly, and gestured to me with a suggestive smirk, "Guess what piggies! I've found our 'It'! Lucky lady Katty Quinzel is going have the wonderful honor of being responsible for ALL of your deaths today!" The Joker let loose a loud, cackling chuckle, and spared a few evil glances at me.

The look of disappointment was not the kind that he was looking for. Mine was more of an 'Oh man my gelato just melted' as opposed to a 'I've been given a death sentence that I will most likely serve' kind of disappointment, which most likely frustrated him most of all.

He clapped his hands together, "Well . . . Cat-ty . . ." The Joker licked his lips, "I don't see any reason to dilly-dally any longer. I'm sure that you're just dying to get to this. Now, lets get you all e-quipped."

Five of the goons that surrounded the crowd in a circle came forward, and since I was located towards the center of the group of people, they violently shoved some innocent bystanders out of the way.

I was flanked on both sides with burly, intimidating, skinheads, and they each grabbed one of my shoulders to hold me in place. Then, the other three goons, two of which had tattoos covering their entire bodies with crew cuts and dark hair, and the third was shorter than me, and had wavy longish hair, but was dark-skinned and packed with some serious muscle.

I rolled my eyes. What does the Joker feed these barbarians? Fucking Steroids with their Frosted Flakes every morning? The goons who weren't holding my shoulders were also carrying the bomb.

It looked like a big circular shoebox with a black smiley face on it, except for the fact that there were wires protruding out of the device from every angle. There were all sorts of straps and wires attached to it though. It looked as if it would have taken a few days just to get all the wires all tangled up like this.

It was a bomb squad's worst nightmare.

And it was going on me.

Now I started to feel uncomfortable.

Just to be difficult, I decided to make it as hard as possible for the goons to place 'happy death' on me by bending my arms when they try to slip it through, and occasionally obtaining random seizures, which entailed a lot of sharp movement, which, in turn, threw them off, causing them to glare angrily and occasionally shove me, by doing so, making it so that the Goons would have had to start all over again.

The Joker looked on at the show I was performing with high amusement and a hearty amount of curiosity as to the reasons behind my behavior.

'So,' the Joker thought, 'The 'Kit-Kat' is comfortable with me touching her and speaking to her and looking at her,' the Joker raised an eyebrow in thought, 'But she seems quite uneasy about the goons' close proximity . . . how fascinating,' he thought with a grin, 'I think I like this Kath-er-ine Quin-zel.'

Five or so minutes later, the goons finally were able to successfully attach the very large, and unsurprisingly heavy smile-bomb to my body. Making me look like a suicide bomber or something equivalent to that.

When they stepped away from me, the Joker took his place at my left, and wrapped a large, but at first not very comforting arm around my shoulders, presenting me to the crowd.

"Do you see this person everybody? C'mon, stand on people's shoulders if you must. It is crucial that you look at her right now. This may be the last face you'll ever see after you go into hiding," The Joker smirked down at me and gave me a really quick once-over, "But look at the bright side! At least she's not some ugly old fat wench with a pinched face and mousy hair and bad breath."

In the crowd, there was actually a woman who fit his description perfectly, and a few others, men and women, that shared those kinds of bad traits.

The Joker laughed at the unfortunately undesirable humans scattered in the crowd, "Yeah, I'm talking about you fatsos. I mean, I would feel like shit if the last face I saw was that of an ugly fat bitch! Wouldn't you?" The joker let out a deep laugh, and the vibrations transferred into my body.

I was kind of blushing, because even though for most, they'd assume that everything the Joker said was a direct insult to their person, it turns out that The Joker wasn't lying.


He genuinely doesn't think me an 'ugly fat bitch,' and to me, that's like him directly calling me beautiful.

The Joker once again clapped his hands together, startling me out of my thoughts and attracting the entire room's attention.

The Joker's eyes scanned the room back and forth. I couldn't help but notice that he still had his arm around my shoulders.


"Hey party people! Looks like we're ready to get on with the show! Good thing I picked this bank! It's so spacious and monotonous, I bet it'll take little Katty Katherine over here hours and hours to find all the seventy-five hostages," The Joker stated with glee.

My mouth dropped open. Seventy-five? I could feel the beginnings of sweat starting to gather on my forehead, the magnitude of the situation finally creeping into my conscious through the thick haze of my dream-like, post-laughing gas state. The lives of all these people rely on my ability to successfully locate them in time.

And out of the seventy-five people in this room aside from me, I can only miss one. And even then I'm not sure if he'll be feeling merciful enough to spare our lives or not. This could all be some elaborate trick for us to let our guards down and totally fuck us over (so to speak) as our backs were turned.

Shit. He could decide to fucking nuke us all at this very second!

Where are the fucking police in this God-forsaken Hell-bound city?
The Joker glanced at a watch that was hidden under his sleeve. He held his chin in the inner curve of his gloved thumb and index finger, as he thought for a moment.

His eyes were closed, and despite my current situation, I still risked a glance at his chiseled face, trying my hardest to be conspicuous.

The Joker's eyes snapped open and his eyes shined brightly with delight. "Ha Ha! I just did a little Men-tal math in my head, and I've decide that since there are about thirty-two rooms in this building, and seventy-five of you, we'll have two or three to a hiding spot. Does that sound peachy to you? Of course it does! Everyone knows that the Joker is well known for his mercy and sense of fairness," The Joker made a disruptive 'Pfft!' sound and once again burst out laughing.

It sounded a little different though, not quite as high, and the tone was off. He was clutching at his stomach, and his eyes were shut tightly. I smiled at him.

The Joker composed himself eventually, and by then, the entire crowd, so riled up by his appearance and statements and overall draining persona, were just awaiting their fates with morbid expressions.

He then turned to me when he had gotten a hold of himself.

"Alright now little Kitty-Kat. Go to that corner over there and count to 200 in Mississippi seconds," The Joker licked his lips and wagged his forefinger at me, "Now remember, don't count too slowly, or else you'll have less time. I'm going to give you 1 hour and thirty minutes to find all thirty-two groups. Okie-dokie?"

The joker didn't give me anytime to answer though, because as soon as he was done speaking, A goon came up behind me, and shoved me in the direction of the corner I was gonna stand in.

I felt him leave once I got there though. And slowly, with a sigh, I began to count.

1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi, 3 Mississippi, 4 Mississippi . . .

As my mental counting continued in the same rhythmic pattern and time sequence, I could hear behind me a symphony of scuffling feet, sounds of protest and pleading, and the cry of children being separated from their parents.

Oh My God, of all the humans in the world to choose to have the responsibility of finding people who's lives are in jeopardy, why oh why did it have to be the only one who looses everything ALL. THE. TIME? I thought, beginning to get frustrated.

11 Mississippi, 12 Mississippi, 13 Mississippi, 14 Mississippi . . .

The room was clearing out quickly, and as an after thought, I tried to listen carefully to where the sound was going, as to get a little idea on which way to go when the time comes.

I was a little late though, because seconds later all sound disappeared all together, and when I tried to remember where the sound came from, it sort of interfered with my counting, and so I stopped.

40 Mississippi, 41 Mississippi, 42 Mississippi, 43 Mississippi . . .

Silence greeted me from all sides, the only sound in the room now was that of my own breathing, which came out in short, shallow pants.

Ok. So there are thirty-two rooms in this building, and seventy-five people inhabiting them. That means that there'll be . . .

"God-fucking-damn, Joker," I mumbled under my breath, "Fuck you for making me do math. I HATE Math,"

"Oh, well please excuse me for my rudeness mademoiselle,"

I Think I might've jumped about three feet into the air.

"Holy Shit!" I exclaimed. I couldn't breathe for a few moments, and I tried to recollect my breath and remember which number I was on while attempting to continue the same pace of counting. 'Too many things at one time,' I thought warily.

75 Mississippi, 76 Mississippi, 77 Mississippi, 78 Mississippi . . .

I tried to not turn around as I felt the Joker circled me, his eyes boring into the back of my skull. I desperately tried my best to not falter when counting, which meant ignoring every feeling that came from my body due to how close the Joker was.

He came up right behind me, so close that I could feel his breathing on the top of my head.

My eyes shot open, when he leaned down to sniff my hair.

"Hmmm..," The Joker sighed, "Freshly shampooed hair. I love it."

'Oh shit,' I exclaimed in my mind. 'Which number was I on again? Oh right'.

101 Mississippi, 102 Mississippi, 103 Mississippi, 104 Mississippi . . .

When he ran his gloved fingers up and down my spine, drawing shivers from my body, that's when I knew. He's trying to throw me off of my counting. He probably wants me to have less time to find all the hostages, thus, giving him better odds for the opportunity to kill us all. I mean, why else would he choose to molest me at probably one of the most crucial moments of my life?

This realization encouraged me to concentrate even harder on my meticulous thoughts. I squeezed my eyes shut and plugged my ears with my fingers.

I just wish that I could do something about my sense of feel.

120 Mississippi, 121 Mississippi, 122 Mississippi, 123 Mississippi . . .

I could feel the Joker notice that I was trying to block him out, having caught on quickly to his initial plan. So he amplified the intensity of his ministrations.

I could feel him pull my hair behind my left ear, and he nuzzled that area with his nose, exhaling air on the nape of my neck.

132 Mississippi, 133 Mississippi, 134 Mississippi, 133 Mississippi . . . wait, no. . .  137 Mississippi . . .

"Katty girl, why are you ignoring me? Don't you wanna play with me?" The Joker whispered into the plugged ear, drawing a low whimper from my mouth.

146 Mississippi, 146 Mississippi, 146 Mississippi . . . Oh Shit, no wait, um . . . 150 Mississippi, 151 Mississippi . . .

I could feel him place his hands on either side of my hips, slowly trailing his fingers up, finding the hem of my shirt, and dragging it up with his fingers as he went, exposing my bare skin.

I seriously considered just saying 'Fuck it,' to being responsible and turning around to jump his bones, but then I remembered all those desperate people who needed me . . .

Dammit! Being responsible is something Roxanne would do! Not me! Why am I here and not she? Sigh.

172 Mississippi, 175 Mississippi, 176- Wait! Oh No! What number was I on? Oh God, Um, now I think . . . 178 Mississippi, 179 Mississippi . . .

I was so close to 200, but as the Joker kept on nuzzling me and touching my bare skin, I was beginning to lose focus! Oh God, I'm going to need all the time I can get! Jesus, I swear to you I'll bake you some holy cookies or something if you help me make it through the day!

196 Mississippi, 197 Mississippi, 198 Mississippi, 199 Mississippi . . .

I snatched my body away from the Joker's prying hands, my body immediately missing his touch. I turned around and ran to the elevators of the Bank that led to the rooms upstairs where I would find the hostages.

Behind me, I could hear the Joker growling in frustration, probably angry that his plan to delay me hadn't worked as he'd hoped.

But I had more important things to think about right now. Like saving these people and getting out of this godforsaken place without setting off this godforsaken bomb strapped to my chest.

I could've sworn that the smiley face shone for a second as I entered the elevator.

It's like the world was moving in slow motion. My thoughts were traveling around in my brain at speeds close to 100 miles per hour. I couldn't stop for one second to grab them and take time to fully analyze it.

It think that this is what happens when people have a panic attack.

Ok, so there are thirty-two rooms in the building, and seventy-five people, then that means that there could be two to a room, and one room would remain.

Something the Joker said earlier while he was explaining the rules of the game came back to me.

"We'll have two or three to a hiding spot . . ." Two or three to a hiding spot? I thought. And then it came to me like someone just slapped me with a chunk of wet catfish.

Some of the rooms will be empty. Oh wow, way to make this difficult Joker.

Ok. So I've got to limit my time to each room to look for people. I can't afford to waste any second on a room with no hostages in it. My brain started to hurt, and as I exited the elevator, even though I knew my time was limited, I slumped down from the wall opposite of the elevators.

I've never felt so rushed before in my entire life.

"Please Joker," I whispered, "Give me a hint."

"A hint you say? What's in it for me little Kitty Kat?" the Joker's voice appeared right next to me, causing me to shriek very loudly and fall to the side.

The Joker gave me a sympathetic look, "Yeah, my stunningly good looks can shock any woman. I just have that effect."

My face was red as I tried to recollect my breath for the second time in not even five minutes.

"Goddam! Can you not fucking scare me shitless at every single opportunity?" I yelled, my hand on my heart and my head beginning to throb.

The joker looked kinda ticked off. "Well then, I could've sworn that some little birdie was asking for my help just a second ago. I obviously must be mistaken. I'll be on my way now," The joker turned to stand up from the floor and leave, but I stopped him with my hand on his chest.

Oh my God I'm touching him!

It took a second for me to calm down though.

"I never . . . said . . . I didn't want your help . . .. It's just," I paused to swallow the saliva building up in my mouth, "Your methods of making your presence known . . . Is questionable . . . at best,"

The Joker chuckled deeply beside me, and shrugged.

"I never said I was perfect babe. Now do you want me or not?" The Joker grinned at me, the paint on his face cracking where he smiled, and before I could answer 'I want you,' I remembered how the Joker likes his . . .. Play on words . . . So to speak.

"I want your help, yes." I replied slowly, testing my words. The Joker guffawed, and slapped my back heartily.

"Oh! What good fun! I like you Kit-Kat. You're smart, and because you're smart I think I'll give you extra hard riddles that are clues to where each little piggy is hiding in this Crack-whore bank." The Joker smiled mockingly at me.

"Does this work out to your benefit little girl?"

I grumbled under my breath. The Joker frowned jokingly.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

I just waved him away.

He grabbed my hand mid-air, and got up real close to my face, his eyes were dark and he was wearing a scowl. "Don't disregard me like some homeless person on the street asking you for money." He growled.

"I want people to answer the questions I ask them. Agreed?" I nodded quickly.

He let me go, and straitened out his purple jacket and green vest. "Now," he began sternly, "I already told you that I'm in a good mood. So I'm going to help you."

I felt a small smile creep up on my lips. "But." The smile faded.

"There's a catch." I sighed and rolled my eyes as if to say 'just get on with it.'

The Joker frowned, "Do not take this lightly little Kitty. I'm not an idiot. If I wanna play, you're going to LOSE."

The Joker picked up a lock of my hair between his fingers, and began to twirl it, considering something.

"Every time you ask me for a hint, you've got to answer one question. Honestly," He added as an afterthought, "And no funny business. Trust me. I'll know. Now, before I let you go on your first hint, do we have a deal?"

The Joker's gloved hand appears before me as the representation of me about to make a deal with the devil. On Any other occasion, I would've taken more time to think this through, but really, what other choice do I have?

Tentatively, I stuck out my right hand, and I shook his, slowly, but firmly.

"Deal." I responded.