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gothic-aesthetic-gal · 3 days ago

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Old Scars (Part 12)

Ledger!joker x reader

Fem!reader is kidnapped by the joker and his henchmen while just trying to get a moment's reprieve from her boring, soul-destroying job ✨️

⚠️IMPORTANT!⚠️

Tw: This chapter includes some fairly graphic descriptions of violence, and a minor character attempting to SA the main character. He does not get far before he gets a pretty brutal comeuppance from J and the main character. I've not included this lightly, SA is of course a serious topic - but this is an exaggerated revenge fantasy which I personally found a lot of catharsis in writing.

Part 12 -

The time soon came to start rattling some cages and J's demeanour changed. First he became more distant and agitated, then,

by the time I'd checked us out of the motel and returned to the car, he was calm and still. I knew that meant whatever plan he had was now in motion. The first stop on the little tour was not what I had expected as we pulled up outside an unremarkable house in a run-down neighbourhood.

"Stay here," he commanded sternly.

"But-" I began in protest.

"Stay. Here." he hissed.

I relented and shrank back into my seat, the dark look in his eyes sending a cold chill through me.

He soon returned with one of his men, who was silent, in tow. The man clambered into the back, after failing to hide his surprise at seeing I was occupying the passenger seat. I figured the guy wasn't expecting a home visit from his missing boss and, catching sight of an anxious little face peering out of the window for a second before the curtains drew closed again, I realised he didn't live alone. Perhaps that was why he was the first stop, because J knew he had the easiest buttons to push - he had a family. Maybe that also meant he would be the last man to betray his boss. You could never tell for sure, but if he cared about his family at all, he wouldn't risk it. Not in a million years.

"(Y/n), this is Antoni Kaminski," J announced as we pulled away from the house.

The man nodded to me sheepishly.

"Just call me Tony, everyone does," he said in a thick Polish accent.

"Okay," I nodded back robotically, still wondering what his story was. Was he one of the men J had poached from the mob?

We stopped off at an old warehouse. I sat in the car until J waved me out.

"You can come along for this part," He said with a sly look on his face.

Part of me was afraid - did he expect me to take part in something violent with them?

I was relieved when the three of us instead stopped inside by a stack of various crates. Tony used a crow bar to lever several of the wooden lids clear. Inside of each was all manner of strange things.

The first one I peered into looked as though someone had raided a circus, or maybe a carnival - it was full of vintage style clothing. The fabrics were a riot of clashing patterns and colours - harlequin, checkerboard, tartan, argyle, polkadot, houndstooth, and paisley. I began to pull out some of the garments, digging through them in confusion. There was velvet, lace, satin, chiffon, and leather, all thrown in together. There were tights, stockings, hats, gloves, petticoats, ruffles and collars, suit jackets, shirts, a wedding veil, scarves, bracelets and bangles, belts with coins and beads and bells. I found a beautiful green sari, an embroidered pair of velvet gloves, a string of pom poms. It seemed to never end... I laughed in disbelief at the overwhelming sea of fabric scattered around me.

"Take what you like," J said, as he directed Tony to open two more crates.

Overcome with curiosity, I watched as he produced a coat hanger with a plastic bag over the top - like the kind you got at the drycleaners. He had a curious look of relief on his face and I quickly realised that it held his suit. Of course he would have multiples - the thought never occurred to me before but it made total sense. He disappeared out of view with the bag while I continued to look for a replacement for my scruffy, stolen t-shirt.

I found a dark red velvet blouse; high necked with long sleeves which turned into something flared from the elbow to the wrist - multiple layers of shimmering red fabric fluting outwards. There was such a huge volume and variety, possibly even some I recognised from the store where we had originally crossed paths, that I managed to find a full change of clothes, underwear included.

Tony made himself scarce, carrying various tools and weapons out to the car in a large duffle bag. Once I had struggled out of the dirty clothes I'd been stuck in, I felt a wave of relief. The outfit I'd cobbled together was thankfully muted enough that it wasn't going to attract any more attention than the scruffy mess I was beforehand. For once I actively wanted to keep to being unremarkable and unnoticed. The top was pretty, the black flared jeans complementing it and even pairing nicely with the black combat boots I was stuck with. I found a belt with an ornate gold buckle and a long black coat lined in a shade of burgundy satin which complimented the velvet top and would keep me warm.

I gathered a few extra items of clothing so that I had spares and stuffed them into a stray duffle bag. Then I found something else in one of the crates which drew my full attention. It was a beautiful Venetian mask, Carnivale style with protruding spikes of fabric framing the cracked white skin of a doll-like face. The spikes of black velvet fabric were bordered by gold brocade, and sat like the petals of a giant flower, each one tipped with a dangling golden bell which hung around the white face. The delicate motionless lips shone with gold. I reached out to touch it, gently tracing the hairline cracks of the aged porcelain and wondering who it had belonged to.

J reappeared, and though I knew it was coming, his freshly painted face and full suit still startled me. He was only missing two things. I held out the coat I had relinquished in favour of my newer aquisition, and he threaded each arm into the sleeves to shrug it into place. Then, as he turned around to face me again, I handed over the knife from the pocket of my cargo pants, stuffing them back into my duffle bag of spoils. He clicked open the blade, turning it this way and that, before closing it and pocketing it once more. For a moment the reality that I might have just handed him the tool for another human being's destruction flooded into my brain. I hurriedly tried to push it aside.

Tony had returned and he pulled out a mask not dissimilar to the ones I had seen J's men wearing as they pushed their terrified hostages into the corner of the dress store. It seemed like a strangely distant memory to me now... I turned back to the carnival mask. This one was uncanny too, but in a different way. It was hauntingly beautiful, much more delicate and refined in its shape and features.

"Take it," urged J's now familiar voice beside my right ear.

I watched as he stepped out in front of me and spun around to meet my gaze. He looked so different like this. At first, I had been startled by the appearance of the man beneath all the layers of clothes and paint, but now I was startled by the re-appearance of the nightmarish clown stood before me.

He handed the mask over to me as I continued to stare like a deer in the headlights.

"Hello?" he said, grasping my jaw with a purple gloved hand and turning it side to side, "earth to doll face, anybody home?"

I blinked and snapped out of my stupor, meeting his gaze directly, and feeling like all the air rushed out of my lungs as I did.

I had forgotten just how frightening the paint could be. I had forgotten just how frightening he could be.

He put on a wide brimmed hat that matched his coat - the kind a detective in an crime noir movie might be sporting.

"We're leaving," he announced, suddenly turning on his heels and striding out towards the car.

I quickly grabbed a plastic bag of assorted makeup and tossed it into my bag. Tony stopped me as I went to follow after J.

"Hey, you wanna take some things from this one?" he gestured to a nearby crate.

Looking inside, I saw that it was loaded full of a very random assortment of weapons. I could see brass knuckles, grenades, knives, various types of guns and ammunition, a hammer, and numerous other kinds of household items which could easily double as weaponry. I shook my head nervously, much to his surprise.

"I'm... I'm not getting hands-on," I said shakily, praying he didn't think I was just some stupid distraction for his boss.

He shrugged.

"Ok but put something in the car for later? You never know," He suggested.

Not wanting to offend him when he was choosing to be nice to me, I took the crowbar he'd left leaning against the crate and carried it out to the car. I put it in the trunk beside the grey duffle bag stuffed full of weapons. I was glad my bag was a different colour - navy blue - as I tossed it in and shoved it into the opposite corner. You wouldn't want to get them mixed up. Then I watched in surprise as Tony swapped the car's licence plates with casual efficiency and got into the passenger seat.

We drove downtown in silence. I could see via the mirror that Tony looked uneasy - understandably so: even if he wasn't a rat, he would know better than anyone that J was out for blood. I felt uneasy myself at the uncertainty of what I had signed up for by actively deciding to stay. It was one thing to have found myself bonding with J in the purgatory-like headspace we'd both been forced into lately, but entirely another to be riding shotgun as the Joker was preparing to slaughter the men who turned against him. It was a very different feeling to be even a silent observer to his movements across the city. Out here he was a force of nature, watching him now was like watching the churning waters of the river as I clung to the bridge. I found myself fixating on his hands as he gripped the wheel - leather gloved and squeezing till his knuckles pressed against the fabric so hard they looked as though they could pop out. His jaw flexed as he stayed laser focused on the road ahead. His whole body seemed taut, wired with anticipation.

When the car pulled up in a wide alleyway, a hulking monstrosity of a man opened the back door to whatever place we had arrived at. He was so broad had to step through it sideways on. I was expecting to be told to stay in the car again, but to my surprise J opened my door for me.

"Stay behind us and don't interfere," was all he warned, tilting the brim of the hat down so that people wouldn't see his painted face so easily.

"Interfere... with what exactly?" I muttered to myself as I entered behind Tony and the enormous man who let us in. Tony turned back toward me with a look of concern.

"Things are going to get very ugly soon, maybe don't watch," he whispered, with an air of genuine concern.

My stomach was tying itself in knots as we slipped down a dark hallway, past a bustling kitchen. The fluorescent lights and glinting silver surfaces, the hiss of steam from enormous Woks and people struggling around the claustrophic space was more noise than I had encountered for days. The smell of raw chilli felt like it was actively burning my nostrils as we passed by. We soon bore left and approached a large set of double doors. I could hear the dull thudding of music being played loud, the bassline shaking the walls and floor.

As the doors were thrown open, the full force of the undampened sound hit me like a wave. The beat was fast paced and repetetive, the kind of mindless dance music you had to be under some kind of intoxication - be it drugs or alcohol - to enjoy. The enormous man who let us in stepped aside and did not follow as we entered, instead returning to his post beside the door, arms folded over his chest. All around us a mass of bodies twisted and jumped wildly to the beat, people were lined up against the wall with drinks and cigarettes in hand. The white flashes of the strobe lights made their forms seem to flicker and glitch, jumping from pose to pose like they some kind of garish tableaux vivant, or a series of photographs in a flip book animation. The room's main source of lighting came from the vibrant green light behind the bar, making it look like some kind of mirage rising out of the near darkness. It certainly seemed to be a watering hole for some, as the men and women jostled to get to the front for their next orders.

It all seemed shockingly mundane. I hadn't been inside a place like this for years. I could see people aggressively making out in the darker corners of the room, drunkenly fumbling around, while the main mass of patrons were congregated on the dancefloor in the centre of the room. We weaved in and out of the crowd until we reached the VIP booths section.

The security man seemed apprehensive as he moved the rope for the Joker and Tony to enter. I was a little further behind and tried to follow only to find a strong arm block my path.

"Sorry miss, gotta have a pass," he explained, rehooking the rope barrier.

"But, I - " I looked on in despair, alas my two companions were already out of sight. He would never believe I was with them.

Figuring it would be worse to cause a scene, I stepped back. I would just have to wait by the bar then, I thought to myself. It was only about five paces to the left and the extreme end was empty enough. I leant against it, trying to be as invisble as possible. It might have just worked, if not for me accidentally making a fleeting moment of eye contact with a man in the queue. He sidled around the corner of the bar to be next to me, immediately slipping an arm around my shoulders which I firmly but politely removed.

"So whatcha drinking? What can I get you?" He asked.

"Oh, um, no thanks. I'm fine," I tried to wave him off.

"Ah come on, just one drink?" He pushed.

I tried to look over the the VIP booths, but couldn't see J anywhere.

"You know, I'm just waiting for my friend, we are leaving soon," I said awkwardly, shrinking away from him as much as possible.

The bar tender turned to him.

"I'll have a bottle of that, and, uh, for her...?" He turned to me as if to say, 'go on'.

The bar tender was looking at me impatiently.

"Uh, Jack and cola. Single," I said hurriedly, hoping that the two of them would be done with whatever they came here for before I had to drink it. My hopes were dashed so I quickly picked it up from the bar as soon as it was poured and nodded in appreciation before downing it.

"Whoah, thought you didn't want a drink," he scoffed in shock.

"Oh so you just pretended not to hear that part then?" I muttered, turning to face outwards with my back against the bar.

"Hey, hey. I'm sorry, i didn't mean to be... pushy," he said sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

I laughed lightly under my breath.

"So uh, what brings you here?" He asked, still not reading the obvious signs of my disapproval.

"...work, I guess," I sighed distractedly, trying to see into the VIP section again.

I quickly realised he had interpreted my answer to mean something else entirely, when his face lit up in excitement.

"How much you askin'?" He urged.

I was too stunned to answer for a moment.

He pressed again.

"How much for us to go out back?" He asked with a smirk.

I suddenly spotted J and Tony forcefully escorting another man out of the VIP section towards the exit. Ignoring the creep next to me I slipped around him and darted into the crowd to follow after them, accidentally knocking into a few people in my hurry. The huge man on the door seemed to be deliberately off duty, looking the other way and was not at his post.

I slipped out of the sweaty, all-consuming nightclub and past the noisy kitchen into the night air. I was just in time to see J, with the knife held to the throat of their captive as Tony taped his hands and feet together.

"Scream and I'll cut out your tongue," J's voice rang out as they continued to bind him. Then they slapped a final piece of tape over his mouth and bundled him into the trunk of the car. Silence followed as they both shut him in.

Suddenly, I was slammed aggressively against the wall. The man from the bar had followed me outside and I had been too distracted to notice, so he'd caught me completely off-guard. I felt his body pressed up against me and desperately tried to wriggle free.

"Let me go!" I urged.

"Hey, I just want your business. Can you blame me? You look new. Most of the girls in this part of town are run down and used up, but you..." the look in his eyes terrified me as I continue to struggle.

"Help!" I screamed out.

In response he clamped a hand over my mouth to try and stop me from crying out.

Suddenly, his demeanour changed as his fingers touched my scars. He recoiled a little in shock making a noise of disgust.

"I didn't realise you had a face like that, you're a fucking catfish!" He laughed in disbelief.

I scrambled slightly further out of his grasp but he still had ahold of my collar in his tightly closed fist.

"If i'm so disgusting to you then why don't you just let me go?" I spat, full of venom.

"I figure it's not all bad, you'll just have to give me a generous discount, and I'll just have to turn you around," he grinned.

There was something truly sickening about the careless way he said something so truly vile.

I stomped his foot as hard as I could and bit down on his arm until I drew blood, which was just enough for him to let me go. I fell forwards and scrabbled to get back up but froze for a second when I saw the familiar combination of dusty dress shoes and pinstriped purple pants. Looking up, I saw J towering over me as I coughed and spat blood onto the sidewalk, gagging in total revulsion.

J had an expression like a thundercloud, and stood stock still - a look I had seen only a handful of times by now, but I knew it meant he was feeling particularly murderous. He wordlessly tugged me back up to my feet as the attacker turned to face us.

"How much of that did you see?" I muttered through gritted teeth, seething with rage.

"Enough," J said flatly, pushing his hair back away from his forehead.

The attacker looked pissed that someone had interrupted him, stepping forward as though he was about to rail on us both... and then his eyes met those of the man in the purple coat. As he recognised the face paint, his expression melted into one of fear. It was espescially gratifying to see the power balance shift so totally in real time. He raised both his hands slightly as if to try and placate the man beside me. This was a terrible mistake on his part, as with surprising efficiency J swept forward and rammed a knife clean through his left palm, spearing it into the door behind us.

The man let out a scream like an animal in a bear trap as he squirmed, unable to move without further injuring himself. Blood was pouring out of the open wound and the knife was driven so deep into the wood that only the handle was visible, sticking out of his palm at a perfect right angle. J's face was no longer angry, and a kind of sinister calmness had settled over him.

The injured man's screaming gave way to sobbing.

"Please, I'm sorry. I don't want any trouble. I didn't know she belonged to you or I would've never touched her, I swear," he pleaded, voice cracking in sheer desperation

"She doesn't belong to me," J said, leaning over the man and stroking his hair mockingly.

I was vibrating with rage at the pathetic creature in front of me and what he thought he could get away with - what he had probably spent a lifetime getting away with.

"Tell me, what do you think an appropriate punishment for someone like yourself is?" J asked casually, stroking the side of his face.

"I - what?" He thought for a moment, "I'll - i'll turn myself into the police I swear! Please!," he broke down into full choking sobs and hung his head.

"Not good enough, the crooked cops will just let you go," I hissed, feeling like something was taking over me.

J's gaze darted away from the crumpled man in front of him to me. I was trembling with rage. A sly shadow of a smile and a dangerous spark of approval lit up his face.

He crossed over to the trunk of the car, pulling something out and slamming it shut again. Then he approached me and handed me the crow bar I had put there earlier. It was heavy and the metal was ice cold to the touch. I met his gaze as he withdrew his hands.

"I'll be in the car. What you do with him is entirely your choice."

A wicked grin spread across his features, enhanced by the red painted smile. I gripped the handle as I considered the full weight of the situation. As promised, he retreated to the car, leaving me to decide the fate of the man in front of me. I knew he would be watching, to see what I'd do.

I was so angry. It was like this final attempt at the unspeakable had dragged up every single other horrible experience at the hands of cruel men, from the minute to the massive: from street harassment, to an abusive and controlling ex-boyfriend. All of those years of suppressed anger simmering away... This man was less than a man. He was an animal. His behaviour had confirmed it. He was too casual with it, far too cruel: this wasn't his first time. He clearly enjoyed abusing the powerless, clearly got off on it.

"You don't want to do this, you're kind. I can te -" he tried to reason with me.

The intrusion of his voice was the final straw and I didn't let him finish the sentence - swinging the crowbar in a perfect arc so that it crashed into his jaw. It knocked him to the right and he screamed in pain.

"You stupid bitch!" He cursed, spitting two of his teeth into the gutter.

BAM. I hit him again.

"Stop fucking talking!" I barked with a ferocity I didn't know I had in me.

He glared up at me, blood dripping from his mouth. I continued:

"Listen here you sick fuck, for once in your goddamn life you are going to listen, okay?"

He said nothing, testing me.

BAM. I brought the crowbar down on the fingers of his good hand, hearing an audible crack. Again his screams rang out, but only to fall on deaf ears.

"Did you hear me? Nod so that I know you understand," I hissed.

He nodded, looking up at me with the purest contempt in his eyes. I jabbed the curved end of the bar under his chin to force him to look up at me.

"Good. Now, I don't know how many times you've ignored the words 'no' from a woman, but I'd bet good money that it's a fucking lot. If you EVER, and I mean EVER step one toe out of line, so help me god, I will find you and you will wish I killed you right here in this alley. You've seen the company I keep... you know how he has ways of keeping tabs on people." I spat.

I jabbed the bar tighter against his windpipe.

"Have I made myself abundantly fucking clear?"

He nodded defeatedly.

"Good", I muttered.

For good measure I swung a truly impressive upper cut with the bar to his crotch which had him squealing like a pig as he crumpled up.

"And because, as you pointed out, I am a kind person, I'm going to do you a favour before I go."

I lined up the teeth of the crow bar with the handle of the knife and levered it out of the door, illiciting a final scream of pure agony from him. As it yielded and he fell in a bloody heap on the floor, I tugged the blade out of his hand. The gory sight almost turned my stomach but I turned and quickly got into the back seat of the idling car.

Tony was in the driver's seat and J was in the back with me but I didn't look at either of them as I slammed the door shut behind me and tossed the weapons to the floor.

"You brought back my knife, how thoughtful," J purred.

I couldn't find the humour in his joke and remained silent as the car pulled away.

"I didn't kill him, but I did teach him a valuable lesson... I hope," I said finally breaking my long silence as we crossed into the fringes of the docks.

The joker said nothing but I could feel his eyes on me, that analytical, calculating, gaze again.