The Killing Joke

N°7

The first instinct to the sudden presence of the person who would not hesitate to get your jester executed with a stupidly cheeks grin on his face, if the instance did happen to occurred that he found you like this, was to rather ungainly freeze up like some startled deer; eyes widening, pulse picking up it's pace in a cold fear as the suboptimal circumstances of your current situation sank into your consciousness with a disturbing severity.

You tried to break the greedy kiss you had so heedlessly subjugated yourself to, however the stern hand on the back of the head and hip kept you from pulling back, regardless of your pleading wimmers resonating against your fools lips.

He just kept willfully ignoring the unwanted disturbance of your soon-to-be-husband with an iron persistence you could only call recklessly self-destructive, or simple lunacy.

Only when there was another, even harsher kock on the wooden board that separates you from your possible executioner, that rattled the door in it's hinges, did Jamie let go of you with an exaggerated sigh; reluctantly climbing off your smaller frame so as to help you to your feet as well. Growling a irritated: "One sec..." whilst you hurriedly looked around for a place to hide, eventually settling on the plan of hiding under the bed like a scared child that was afraid of monsters in it's closet.

The pale jester shot you a last cheeky glance, making sure you were well out of vision, granting you a impudent smirk and a short salute of his prosthetic hand before sauntering over to the locked door with an exasperated sigh, as if to make vocal that he was not willing to deal with Victors ill temper, muttering:"If ya happen t' be looking for ya wife, sir, I have t' tell ya tha' I 'ave no hint where the little sheila may be off t'. Ya must know, she's a reclusive creature at times. Probably readin' some place in the park amongst the trees like the little elf she is." Whilst unlocking the door purposefully slowly.

However, the second the door was flung open with a rather violent kick, Victor burst into the room like an uncalled for gale, and before any other words of friendly, civilized banter where exchanged, he grabbed your jester by the collar in order to thrust the spindly man against the wall beside the door with such vigor that the door audibly shook in it's frame. "Where is she? Answer me you blemish of a human before I make sure you ́ll lose the other half of your limbs as well." Was all you heard him hiss, and that with such great contempt that you felt a cold sweat on your brow already accumulating like a dew of discomfort.

There was no hiding that whatever Victors intent was, it wasn't favourable for you or Jamie for that matter of fact. And you had halfway expected your pale friend to lash out at the duke, knowing how heedless he could be, but, to your genuine relief; he seemed to keep a cool head, cackling at the hostile greeting in an almost child like manner.

"Crikey, good mornin' t' ya too, sir. Didn't expect t' ever see ya that concerned with ya wifeys whereabouts, seeing as ya let her wander off yesterday. Like I told ya, I reckon she's jus' out n' about in the park. Tis' quite the lovely day after all, wouldn't ya agree? It's only natural for birds to yearn for freedom this regal time of year. Who wouldn't shun a golden, glorified bird cage in favour of a whole world a' curiosity?" The jester cooed with a voice so convincingly guiltless and yet so mocking you felt like he was purposefully digging his grave just that little deeper.

With that few cheeky words spoken, the duke tightened his grip on your harlequins collar considerably, to the point his knuckles turned pale, his face contorting into a sinister face that mirrored nothing but a vile, ugly rage as he grinned up at your pale friend.

"You dare deride me, freak? You dare to speak down to me, a royal man and husband of the bitch that owns you, keeps you like a pet dog?! Let me tell you a little secret, you worthless, appalling joke of nature, for every time you talk back," He leaned just a little closer to your jester, whispering the latter of his words as if the put especial emphasis on them: "that's another time I'll fuck your precious little bird-princess on our wedding night until she cries. And you're already at one, so be careful with that sharp tongue of yours or it might just indirectly clip her wings."