August Prompts for badcompany_muse
[24] - Seduction
"Do ya wanna know... why I use a knife?"
Joker sat with his back against the cold tile of the interrogation room. He imagined that at one time, when the station was newly built and Gotham had seen ordered days full of unnecessary rules and regulations it had been pristine. But now... Now the room was as decayed as the rest of the city. The tiles had grown cracked and yellow, with brown staining it here and there. He could imagine the blood splattering wetly against the wall from some well-aimed blow.
He licked his red lips.
"Guns are too quick." He studied the officer standing against the door, hands held tightly behind his back, jaw clenching despite himself. The Joker resisted the urge to laugh. This man was just like the rest of Gotham. Slowly crumbling away. "You can't savour all the... little... emotions."
If only he'd had one of his knives then, he'd be running the edge along the officer's throat, his voice in his ear. Knives... Knives had seduced him a long time ago, when he first cut it into his skin. All the blood that had gushed from his open wounds to splatter into the sink, forever staining it. The burning pain, the metallic taste in his mouth. He licked his lips again.
"Y'see, in their last... moments... People show you who they really are."
He remembered the sting of salty tears as they ran from his eyes to sear the bloody, gaping holes in his face. Tears of uncontrollable laughter, the hanging skin stretching and tugging at his handmade smile. They all cried when there was a knife involved. It was slow, painful. Everybody cried.
He licked his lips.
Muse: The Joker
Fandom: The Dark Knight
Words: 285
"Do ya wanna know... why I use a knife?"
Joker sat with his back against the cold tile of the interrogation room. He imagined that at one time, when the station was newly built and Gotham had seen ordered days full of unnecessary rules and regulations it had been pristine. But now... Now the room was as decayed as the rest of the city. The tiles had grown cracked and yellow, with brown staining it here and there. He could imagine the blood splattering wetly against the wall from some well-aimed blow.
He licked his red lips.
"Guns are too quick." He studied the officer standing against the door, hands held tightly behind his back, jaw clenching despite himself. The Joker resisted the urge to laugh. This man was just like the rest of Gotham. Slowly crumbling away. "You can't savour all the... little... emotions."
If only he'd had one of his knives then, he'd be running the edge along the officer's throat, his voice in his ear. Knives... Knives had seduced him a long time ago, when he first cut it into his skin. All the blood that had gushed from his open wounds to splatter into the sink, forever staining it. The burning pain, the metallic taste in his mouth. He licked his lips again.
"Y'see, in their last... moments... People show you who they really are."
He remembered the sting of salty tears as they ran from his eyes to sear the bloody, gaping holes in his face. Tears of uncontrollable laughter, the hanging skin stretching and tugging at his handmade smile. They all cried when there was a knife involved. It was slow, painful. Everybody cried.
He licked his lips.
Muse: The Joker
Fandom: The Dark Knight
Words: 285