I heard the sound of the door being unlocked so I quickly backed away. I was nervous, my body trembling with fear. If he was coming in here to kill me, I just prayed it would be quick.

"You think I'm stupid?" The Joker sauntered over to me, his head slowly tilting to the side, his shoulders slumped.

I shook my head vigorously, "N-n-no. No, I don't."

I watched his every move as he backed me into a corner of the room, away from the dead henchmen. His hands were twitching by his sides and he was slowly rubbing his thumbs against his pointer fingers. This ticking time bomb of a madman was inching towards me and I had no weapon or ways to escape.

With no warning, he roughly grabbed my chin with his left hand, forcing me to look up at him. He brought my face forward, closer to his, and inhaled deeply. He pressed his body against my small frame and examined my face. I closed my eyes as his grip moved down to close in on my delicate throat.

"Emilie? It is Emilie, isn't it?" He whispered into my lips, the smell of cigar filling my lungs.

I refused to open my eyes or respond but I knew every act of defiance I did, only prompted anger from my captor.

"LOOK AT ME!" His deep voice shook my core.

I lazily opened my blue eyes and we finally made eye contact. My heart begun beating so loudly, it was practically beating out of my chest. I was almost certain he could hear it. I saw him searching my face, almost unsure of what to say next.

"Emilie, you must think I'm not as smart as you. As smart as your well-off parents."

Hearing him say my name sent chills down my spine. He most likely got it from my Driver's License that he examined moments before. But my parents names? That one, I was still figuring out.

"Every time you lie to me, I will administer a punishment." His grip on my neck was tightening more and more, and it was becoming harder to breathe. I could feel my entire body shaking uncontrollably. If he wasn't possessively grasping my neck, I would have fallen on the floor.

"I didn't lie. I just called my dad." Partially the truth

My eyes deceived me and began spilling tears down my flushed cheeks. I was trying to act strong but I couldn't hold it in for much longer. Nothing had ever prepared me for this.

"Listen, listen," he closed his eyes then opened them saying, "Your dad is…a cop."

My face must have revealed my emotions because I saw his crimson make-up, scared mouth release into a devious grin.

"Like I said….liar." He tilted his head again to the right and then with his right hand punched me so hard in the upper abdomen I lost the ability to breathe.

The Joker stepped away from me, watching me reel in pain on the floor, struggling to take in a breath. He looked down at me with a look of disgust and cracked his neck. I got on my hands and knees to tried to stabilize my already shaking body. I could not catch a breath. No matter how hard I tried to inhale, my diaphragm would not cooperate.

I watched his shoes to see if he would come back and hit me but I watched them walk away out of the room. I brought myself to rest on my legs and saw the Joker come back with another man in tow. The Joker quickly put on his purple trench coat and moved aside so the other man could be in sight. The men towered over me for a moment while I still struggled to catch my breath. I had a coughing fit then rubbed my neck, nervously, my eyes darting to each man.

I finally was able to take in a deep breath, hopefully not my first victory.

I wiped my tears away and saw that the Joker held a jug of bleach by his side. I slowly stood up and steadied myself away from them. I assumed the worst and thought they were going make me drink it until he spoke.

"This," he lifted up the jug. "Use this to clean up the mess."

Making sure I heard him correctly, I stumbled with, "C-c-clean what?"

The plastic jug was forced into my stomach. "Clean up the blood."

He pulled out a rag from his back pants pocket and tossed it at me and walked away. The other man picked up the dead body of his peer like he was a sack of potatoes and followed the Joker out. In the dead man's place, spatters and various pools of drying blood remained.

The door was shut and locked and I was forced with the task at hand.

My eyes were stinging. My abdomen was still in pain. My knees were sore.

Obediently, I scrubbed until I saw nothing left.

The wood floor was as clean as I could get it. A blacklight could show differently but I tried my best with the supplies at hand. I squeezed the rag out once more then tossed it in a corner by the door.

I sat on the floor and leaned up against the white-washed walls. My red vans had been stained in some spots from the bleach and my knees were pink from crawling. I lifted up my hands to my eyes and saw they were dried out and ashy from the constant bleach exposure. I leaned my head back slowly and closed my eyes. The bleach was burning my eyes and I knew my mascara had to be running. Although it was the least of my worries, I knew I looked a sight. I hugged my knees to my chest and tried to relax and calm my nerves.

If I was tired, I could not tell. I had so much adrenaline pumping through me and the bleach stench was enough to keep me stable.

I glanced around the room, still in shock it had no windows, and checked for cameras. Nothing seemed out of sight. Just an empty room, minus me and a folding chair.

"A chair," I mumbled aloud. "A chair!"

I stood up and walked over to the metal chair and folded it up. When the next person opened that door, I was going to slam it into their face and escape. I had not heard any voices or noises in some time so I assumed they left the apartment. I tied up my long blonde hair into a ponytail to make sure nothing else would halter my escape.

I planted myself on the wall nearest the door. When the door swings open, I was going to pick it up and do my damage. I almost laughed to myself, thinking of the old wresting shows my Dad would watch.

I held the chair legs in my grip with the top resting on the floor. I must have waited in this position for two hours or so before I heard commotion again. A front door slammed shut and I braced myself. I held in a deep breath and felt my heart quicken. I pursed my lips together and stood with my legs a foot apart. I lifted the chair to waist level and got myself ready to pounce on whoever came through first.

"…Keep her?"

"I need a punching bag. I have a lot of built up…anger…from this Bat-man." I heard the Joker grunt.

I angled myself better with the chair to take out my captor. "Punching bag? Okay." I was livid.

The door was unlocked and then quickly opened and I swung without looking at who I was taking out.