Introducing a Little Anarchy [Nightwing]

[missj]

The Joker smiled as he saw Nightwing inched away from the clown's smiling visage. He was getting to the kid, it was official. He just needed the brat to keep pushing on so that the Joker could finish his fun. He didn't go to all this trouble just for Nightwing to pass out half way through the games. Then again, if he passed out, the Joker could always find a replacement. Like Batgirl. He would have to ask Nightwing if she was available for a date. And, he could keep the Bird around for his own show. Hehe, oh the games he could come up with.

He stood straight while his captive seemed to think over his next move. The Joker would need to be ready to follow up on his threat if the little Birdie failed to comply with the rules. He wasn't going to go to all this trouble just to give the kid a pass. Giving him one more chance to pick a hand was as lenient as the clown was going to get and that was more than expected of him to begin with. Hell, he was being charitable!

As Nightwing finally caved, the Joker's face became solemn and expressionless in anticipation of his choice. When he chose his hand, the Joker didn't respond for several moments. He wanted the nerves of anticipation to build up in Nightwing's chest until he was about to explode. Instead of revealing his fate, the Joker walked behind the chair where Nightwing couldn't see him. The clanking of metal would be the only indication to Nightwing as to what he was doing.

Slightly behind the chair Nightwing was currently cuffed two were two chains hanging from the ceiling, connected by a thick metal bar hanging at the bottom. The Joker, already sick of lifting the muscular man, lugged him upwards before looping his arms over the bar and cuffing his wrists in place, leaving him hanging with his toes just barely touching the ground. This gave the Joker free range to strike any part of his victim's body.

Remaining silent and out of Nightwing's line of sight, the Joker attached the two jumper cables to each end of the pole. All it would take to punish him was the flick of a switch. The final step was the Joker's favorite. Pulling a purple scarf out of his inner pocket in his coat, the Joker pulled it around Nightwing's eyes and tied it tightly, effectively blinding him. The torture would be more effective if he could't see the pain coming.

"See, things are more fun when you play along, Nightwing. I get to keep a smile on my face and you get to feel what it really means to be a vigilante. Now that you've chosen, it's time for the consequences." He stepped away from the vigilante, remaining completely silent as to not allow him to know what the Joker was doing.

The crazed clown waited for what he thought would be long enough to let the butterflies build up from Nightwing's stomach to his chest before making his move. Without any warning, he slammed the escrima stick across the vigilante's back. He repeated the action at irregular intervals a couple more time. He remained completely silent so that Nightwing wouldn't be able to tell when the next blow was coming. "Soon you'll be so black and blue you won't even need to wear that costume, Boy Blunder. HahaahahhahahHAHAHAHAHA!"

[Dick Grayson - Nightwing]

Dick waited for a reaction from the Joker. But none was given. The Joker just stood there motionless at first. Not a word being said by either one. The sickening smile no longer on the Joker face as he looked over at Nightwing. That wasn't a good thing. If the Joker became serious, something was going on and it was never a good thing. It was either his fun was spoiled or what lay ahead might be more deadly. There was no hope of anyone finding him. He had gone off on his own again like he always had been. No one knew were he was.

He knew he could find away out of this. It was just a matter of hanging in there and waiting for the right time to try anything. His mind started to stress over the wait. The Joker still silent as he walked right pass Nightwing and out of his view. Dick's eyes had followed the clown until he no longer could. He could hear the sounds of chains rattling. The clown was up to something again.

Sitting up straight not in the chair as much as he could, his heart began to beat louder. What was he going to do? The silence was driving him made. Usually the Joker narrated through this stuff just to make it more fun for him. But the silence of it was even more unsettling now that he couldn't see what the Joker was setting up. He broke out into a light sweat, his nerves about had it with the silence and the noise going on behind him.

He was too afraid to speak. He feared that the Joker would spring something on him at the moment he tried to say anything back. It was best to be silent. His stomach was unsettled at the thought of what might be going on. Dick kept trying to keep control of his thoughts, but the fear was starting to take over. His body seemed to flinch at the smaller movement made by the Joker. His body was only reacting to his first instinct to try and protect itself.

His mind still trying to keep a grip on who he was and that he was strong enough to get through this. Though, his will was slowing starting to slip. The thought of not making it out soon only torment him all the more. The silence starting to drive his mad. And the constant dripping of the water slowly working on his nerves. His body smirking at him as his mind was yelling to keep control and at the same time wanting out of this.

It wasn't until the Joker undid the hand cuffs and quick started to lift him and get his arms over something hanging from the ceiling that Dick's mind started to settle on a thought, trying to piece what was going on together. As he was moved, he held back on yelling out in pain as he trying to bottle it up. The cracked ribs causing more pain with the movement. His hands were then cuffed to this metal bar hanging from chains to the ceiling. He was left hanging there. He was literally trying to stand on his toes to keep himself from hanging completely. But with the slight swaying of the chains supporting the bar, it made it all the more difficult.

Dick grasped onto the metal bar with his hands that were cuffed to it, trying to give him more support and take the pressure off his wrists. His body already weak after taking all the abuse. His arms where's going to hold out for long. He was trying to keep his attention on trying to be able to support himself and not let himself just hang there. The Joker had gone off behind him again. It was deathly quiet as the Joker worked out of his view.

The abuse and wear of the torment was getting to him. His strength lacking as he tried to hold himself up on the metal bar. His eyes weakening from trying to stay focused. He heard the sound of something clamping against the metal, but his head was too heavy to try and look over.

He hung limp there, his hold on the bar looser, but he still grasped the bar. It was all he had left for support. It was almost like clinging to his last chance at keeping himself together as the silence went on. It wasn't until everything went completely dark that Dick's head jolted up at the sudden blinding of his view. He could feel the piece of material becoming tighter as the Joker tied something behind his head to keep it in place, leaving Dick blind to the world around him.

His senses becoming a bit sharper as he tried to listen for the footsteps of the Joker. He heard his voice, mocking the vigilante. He was the victim of a sickening ideas of games of the Joker's twisted mind. There was no where to go. And there was nothing that could been seen.

Dick tried to concentrate on where he heard the foot steps of the Joker land. But the Joker was taking the extra caution to stay quiet and out of range. Dick tensed up, trying to strain to narrow down the Joker's location around him.

Then there was nothing but silence. It was as if the Joker had stepped out. No foot steps, not more than the sound of the chains grinding with the slight swinging of the metal bar hanging Nightwing in the air. And the drip drop of the water still falling in the back ground. The night was silent. He could even hear a slight wind picking up and going through the top of the bell tower.

Taking deep breathes trying to keep himself calm, Dick tried to focus. What was going on? He was afraid to make a move. His heart was in his throat as he waited. The silence was usually his friend, but now it was only his torture. It wasn't until he receive a sharp and painful blow to his back, that he realized the Joker had been standing behind him the whole time. With the surprise attack, Dick yelled out in pain and surprise. His grip on the metal bar was lost and he was left hanging by his wrists, he winced in pain and groaned in the agony of his wrist taking on all his weight.

With every hit the Joker struck, Dick cried out in pain as his spine was being hit. His ribs rattling by this affect. He took hold of the bar again, only to be clenching it in his hands as tightly as he could trying to escape the pain. The pain lingering in the slight cries of pain that followed after trying to breath after the hits. The pain shooting from his back and carrying the message through out his body. The blind sided attacks were going to be the hardest to hold anything back. His eyes tightly shut behind the blind fold. He just wanted to get away from it all. But he could not cry out a word, only the sound of fear and pain coming through his yells.

Dick tried to keep himself together. He needed to fight. He couldn't just let himself be tormented like this. And the Joker's taunting words mocking him again. If the Joker had just moved, his laugh only gave away where he was located at the moment. Dick wasn't that stupid as to give up on trying to narrow down where the Joker may be standing now. No, he had only lost his sense for holding back from him crying out with the pain being inflicted.

His body aching in pain, but he still had the will power to try to attempt something. He gripped onto the bar gain with his hands after getting a bit of control of himself. And as the Joker laughed, this only gave him more of a target to work with, even when being blind folded. He couldn't tell just if the Joker was in striking range, but his anger was showing through at this point. He hated being the victim, but his mind was yelling at him to do it, to try and strike back. His Body all the while screaming in pain as he started to tighten up his muscles and feel more use of them. He was able to tell his muscle were reaction after the hits to his back. He whole body had been flinching to the sudden hits.

There was one mistake the Joker had made. He had over looked the abilities of the Bat-family even in the most unexpected of situations. And the set up of the restrain came to Dick's advantage. With what strength he could sum up for how weak he was, he grabbed a tight hold onto the bar and all within on action swung his legs together and swung out to strike the Joker.

His hold only lasted a second and as he come back from his strike at the Joker, his hand lost their grip and as the bar swung him back, his wrists cut against the cuffs and he yelled out in pain over his fast motion and had defied the ability of his body for how beat he was. And he was paying for it after that sudden movement and attack on the Joker.

He hung limp again, crying out in pain from his own infliction from the stunt. The metal bar slightly swaying after the movement. His head hung down again. The sudden energy gone as quick as it had come. He knew he was going to pay for that attack. But it had been worth it. It only proved that the Joker shouldn't underestimate his opponent no matter what the situation. And the Joker had left Nightwing with the chance to strike while allowing him to have free range of motion with his legs. Well, duh, Nightwing could pull something like that. He was a stubborn as the Bat and they always fought back. That and Dick is an acrobat and of course he would use that to his advantage.

It may have been the dumbest move to pull, but it brought some of the fire back in him. But now his body was more weak from the sudden exertion of energy. There wasn't much of a chance that he could pull something like that for a bit. But he would try again once he got his energy back after recovering. If he weren't so weak he could have easily used the metal bar and chains to his full advantage. He didn't train for all those hours for nothing. At least his attack may set the Joker back a bit in this plan for torturing him. What ever worked. If the Joker was going to tick him off and make him play the victim, Dick was only going to find away to subtly tick the Joker off when he could. Though he was running low on ways and chances to do so. His word would do any good now, his mind was lost of thought at the moment.

[missj]

The Joker could only smile at Nightwing's screams of pain. He would have to make a copy for himself of this recording and keep the audio. It would be good music to fall asleep to as he was getting tired of listening to Harley talk until he finally hit her in the head and knocked her out. That woman was both incredible and infuriating at the same time. She had accomplished the impossible. Where was his hench-wench, anyway? She had better have an extremely good reason for not showing her face. Maybe she was in Arkham. He hadn't really kept up with her whereabouts while he was locked up. Oh well, he'd have to make it a point to find her later. For now, he had company.

He watched as Nightwing began to shift on the bar, likely trying to make himself more comfortable. It was a lost cause, but he would let him try regardless. It was entertaining. While the vigilante was wasting his time trying to move around, the Joker looked out the window of the bell tower, his face glowing under the full moon's glow. "Y'know Bird Brain, I poke fun and beat you and try to kill Gotham, but honestly..." He started giggling madly. "I wish you would just DIE!"

As he turned around to strike him with the escrima stick again, the heel of Nightwings boot caught the Joker on the chin, sending him tumbling backwards. He had put Nightwing in that position so that he would be driven in sane by the fact that if he weren't injured, he could attack the Joker. He didn't plan on the kid to actually kick him.

Picking himself up off the floor, the Joker wiped the blood at the corner of his mouth away, looking at his hand with distaste. He would pay for that one. The Joker's smile turned into a blood red scowl as he growled angrily at Nightwing. This was the Joker's fun, and he would have it. He moved towards Nightwing, laughing madly. "Oh, little Birdie, how you amuse me." He tapped Nightwing on the head with the escrima stick before slamming his fist into the vigilante's jaw. He wasn't going to go unpunished for this.

"Now, let's get back to business. Pick a hand." His voice was low and filled with hatred. This was going to be good.

[Dick Grayson - Nightwing]

Dick was glad he had been able to hit the Joker. Although it might have been better if he could have seen it for himself. The blind fold still keeping his sight sense lost to everything around him. But he felt himself land the hit, and had hear the Joker falling to the ground. He knew he had only made matters worse for himself. He had only dug himself a deeper hole. Yet, if this was going to be the way he went out, he was going to go fighting.

And he wouldn't give up hope yet. He may be in pain, but he'd find away out of this no matter what it took. He wasn't about to let some crazed clown take him out. The odds were against him, bit he'd give the Joker a fight as long as he could.

Though through his own pains, he silenced himself as he heard the Joker approaching again after getting hit. There was nothing but silence between the two of them to start with. It wasn't until the Joker seemed to brush the hit off as if it were nothing. Dick knew better than to not expect the Joker to go something about it.

His laugh drawing closer, and his words coming out, Nightwing could only hang there and listen. He felt something tap against his head, only flinching expecting a harder it to come in the same spot. He could tell it was his escrima stick, but what came next was totally different compare to the escrima stick.

Receiving a sharp blow to his jaw, Dick yelled out after the hit had came. He hadn't expected that coming. He could tell it had been the Joker's fist. With the blind fold on, he was unable to look at the Joker. His head fell off to the side after the blow, only to return to the center of his chest again, still looking down. If he could look the Joker straight in the eyes, he'd tell him what he thought.

At that moment, he was half tempted to strike again this time landing a harder blow. But he did not have the energy for it. And the Joker seemed content to just carry on with his little games. Though by the tone of his voice, Dick could tell he had struck a nerve with the clown. A smile smirk coming to the corner of his month at the thought of annoying the Joker and trying to spoil his fun. A dangerous expression to let slide out, but he did not comment to the Joker. His jaw now throbbing from the Joker taking a swing at him.

Hey, if Joker couldn't take it, he shouldn't be trying to torment him. But Dick wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out. He body becoming more responsive to every hit, wanting to get away from it all. His mind slowly slipping from focus. But his will still in tacked.

"Fine, right this time," his voice having some sense of the renewed willingness to put up a bit more of a fight against the Joker's attack. Though he lacked the energy to carry anything through at this point. He hung there, supported by his wrists.

[missj]

The Joker smiled widely as Nightwing made his choice. Unknown to the vigilante, the Joker was no longer holding the escrima stick. If the kid didn't want to play by the rules the Joker had established, then the Joker would change the rules as he went and he had a feeling Nightwing wouldn’t like these new rules. His only response to the vigilante was dark laughter that spread through the bell tower like wild fire. The Joker had been thinking what the alternative punishment would be for the better part of the past fifteen minutes. He was down to electrocution or a stronger dose of Joker toxin, and seeing how he was the Joker, the toxin was his preference.

"Well, kiddo, I'm afraid you picked the empty hand! So, now it's time for your surprise!" He smiled as he danced around the chained figure in the center of the room, holding his surprise in his hand. Another vial of Joker toxin, though Nightwing couldn't see it. Aware of this, the Joker slammed the needle into the vein in Nightwing's neck, injecting him with the slightly stronger dose of Joker toxin. The laughter would be much more intense and he would feel a painful tightness in all of his muscles, especially around the eyes and mouth. Most of all, this toxin would mess with his mind.

The lower dose didn't do much to the psyche. It triggered laughter, but it didn't affect thought processes. This stronger toxin would make his mind seem fuzzy and give him strange thoughts. Some people hallucinated, but he highly doubted Nightwing would experience that as he was very strong minded. He did, however, fully expect him to feel the insanity grip him. There was no point in fighting; it was going to happen.

"Give in, Robin. You know you want to give in. Kick up your feet and have a laugh. You've fought valiantly, Boy Blunder. Just break. I've won and Gotham's mine." He circled his prey like a hawk, waiting for him to crumble and crash. It was an art.

[Dick Grayson - Nightwing]

Dick couldn't see anything and was force to relay on the voice of the Joker. He could not see his choice. But he could hear the dark laughter of the clown. He would shiver at it, but did not give any sign of such action. He was getting flighty at the sudden sounds around him. After the last blinded fist to the face, he wasn't sure what to expect.

Then the Joker answered what he had been wondering. What was the answer? It had only been the empty hand. And after the last one, Dick wasn't to pleased with this game any longer. Heck, he hadn't liked it to begin with, but he had to do what he could to stay alive. He could hear the foot fall of the Joker going around him. Almost a rhythmic pattern to it. If he didn't know any better he would almost think the Joker was actually trying to dance around him.

He could only hear the foot fall going around him. And when it stopped he wonder what the Joker was planning on doing next. But then he felt a sudden stab of something piercing into his neck. He yelled out slightly as to what ever it was being injected into him again.

It didn't take long for him to realize just what it was. His muscle started to tighten a bit, especially around his lips and eyes. A slight smile broke out onto his face and he tried to hold back the laughter what was trying to fight it's way out of him. But of course he couldn't the dose had to be stronger. He noticed from the force of his system letting it take over quickly and more effectively as he started to laugh harder.

His laughing causing him to wince and want to yell out in pain as his ribs were jolted about from the forced laughter. Even his spine was starting to hurt more where it had been aching after the Joker smashing his escrima stick into his back the few time that he had. And his abdomen burning at his muscle action as he laughed, the cuts getting jolted a bit at times.

Dick's mind become more focused on the smaller things. The water dripping, the sound of the Joker pacing around him. The chains rattling as he laughed, His mind focusing in on all the pain and all the words that had been said through out this encounter. The thoughts of the old memories brought up. And fact that he was the Joker's victim.

The Joker's words still came out in his mind as he spoke again. Telling him that he should give in and just give up all he had been fighting for that night. And that was his life. And that the Joker said that Gotham was his and he had won. Dick was in a fit of laughter, having trouble breathing and trying to fight against the toxin. But him mind was slipping outside of the current situation. He wasn't sure where to. His mind only focusing him on the small annoyances around him that he could only hear and not see.

"No, no...No! I won't," he cried out between the laughter. Fighting back once again. But his mind was battling him now. The sounds around him were driving him mad. If he had his sight as least he would be able to focus some. But he was at a loss. His mind slipping as the laughter took over. "Let me down...from here...And I'll show...you...a fair fight," he said through the laughter.

Was he crazy? He was in no condition to fight. Him mind was pressing him onward, challenging him. His will to fight was strong, but in his right mind he knew he was in no state to fight. The words just seemed to be slipping out. The madness bringing out his anger and fight. Which might be in how to get through to him. His pride, his ego, he was a headstrong fighter. Stubborn to the end, but he knew even his own words didn't make sense to him.

He really wasn't going to just give up, but he hadn't expected to challenge the Joker. Dick was smarter than that. But the madness was pushing him and driving him to make the impulsive choice of words he had. This mind flashing back to thoughts being twisted. "No," he called out not really meaning it by anything as the grin stayed on his face as he threw his head back and laughed even harder. His chest aching at every laugh. He wasn't what he was saying himself. He was losing his thought process a bit as this continued.

[missj]

The Joker rested his chin in his hand boredly as Nightwing refused to break. Why did they always have to be so stubborn? He missed the good old days when the little worms would break like a potato chip. He loved walking into dark alleys unexpectedly to the music of his own laughter and scaring the piss out of punks. He’d have to go remind some of them just who’s city they were playing in. Oh well, he’d have to get to that later; right now he had company that was still being stubborn.

With a soft sigh, the Joker approached his prey while he was still laughing hysterically. This would obviously need a physical stimulant to get the vigilante to cry like a little girl. Grabbing the escrima stick again, the Joker took a batting stance. ”Batter up!” With all his strength, which wasn’t as insubstantial as one would think, he struck Nightwing on his back and chest, over and over and over again. His laughter rivaled the forced laughs of Nightwing as he felt euphoric joy as he struck his victim with blood lust in his eyes.

”Strike one!” He struck Nightwing across the thighs, a resounding smack echoing through the bell tower. ”Strike two!” He crashed the escrima stick across Nightwing’s knees viciously. ”Strike three!” He brought the escrima stick across Nightwing’s head, bloodying him but not breaking anything. ”YOU’RE OUTTA HERE! AAAAHAHAHAHHAAHAHHAHAHAHAA!” In a final move, the Joker unchained the bar Nightwing was chained to, letting him drop to the floor haphazardly. In a fit of joy, the Joker began to kick him mercilessly while hitting him with the escrima stick. His goal was to make him as black and blue as possible.

He stopped momentarily to allow himself to catch his breath, not particularly caring if Nightwing had a moment to recuperate or not. He chained Nightwing’s wrists together behind his back and then bound his ankles before turning towards the camera that was capturing their entire battle. ”Yoohoo! Oh, Batsy! I hope you’ve enjoyed the show thus far! I know you haven’t fast forwarded because you’re studying my behavior, hoping to capture a glimpse into just what I might be planning and you’re afraid that if you skip ahead, you’ll miss Bird Brain’s last breath. For added effect, he delivered a swift kick to Nightwing’s battered side before returning his attention to the recording device. ”Just remember that no matter what you do, you can’t protect Gotham from me. Heheh, you can’t even protect your precious little Robin. Yes, I know he’s the original Boy Blunder. I missed that kid. I thought you two just decided to see other people, but it appears that he’s gotten too old for your tastes.”

The Joker smiled wickedly towards the camera before grabbing his knife in his hand again, ready to carve the kid up. ”Lucky for me, he’s still young enough to piss you off when I maim him. HehehHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAA!” His laughter filled the bell tower as he watched the battered vigilante writhe pointlessly on the floor. There was no escape from the Joker’s torment.

[Dick Grayson - Nightwing]

Dick wasn’t necessarily waiting on an answer from the Joker. His mind leading him in a maze in the dark, trying to figure out what next move was as well as throwing him into a tail spin. He was laughing too hard and was in too much pain to really be thinking straight at this point. The toxin taking more affect on him as he tried to fight back against it.

Blinded to what the Joker’s next move was all he could hear was his lame attempt at a joke. Really? Only the Joker could be so cruel and brutally with his attacks. Dick wanted to cry out in pain, to yell at the top of his lungs, but the laughter kept him from being able to do so. His lungs were burning in pain as he was forced to hold back pain of yelling that was replaced by laughter. If this wasn’t torture enough, he thought he was going to die from laughing so hard, literally.

Again and again the Joker took hits at him. He wasn’t able to tell where he was going to hit first. A blow to his back and then a blow to his chest, but pattern changed up each time. Dick lost count of how many time the Joker had been hitting him. It almost felt like a stab to the chest every time he hit. His ribs taking on more presser and his arms unable to protect himself.

Through the laughter after a while, and as the Joker took the chance to have more fun with his words, Dick was able to give out a few yells as the Joker hit his thighs with the escrima stick. And again when his knees were hit. He could feel his knees wanting to buckle up after that hit.

And with the third strike, Dick yelled out again as a blow stuck across his face. He was unable to go any where. He could feel the corner of his lip bleeding and it felt like near his temporal area beneath the blindfold. The left side of his face taking on the blow. His left eye starting to throb from the hit.

Then to his surprise, the Joker had then undone the chains and his body then fell to the ground. He landed with a thud to the ground, not able to try and stop himself, his full weight just crashing down. He lay on his left side. His side screaming in pain from the fall with his busted ribs and the wounds and injuries sustained through out the torment. He yelled out as he hit the ground. Groaning in pain through coughs and laugher.

He thought he’d have a change to get a break, but then he felt the sharp pain of the Joker’s foot making contact with his stomach. Dick bent forward wanting to protect his chest from any more hard blows, but when the Joker brought out the escrima stick again and started to hit him, his hand went right for his head. It was the only way to protect himself. His body could take a beating, but he needed to protect his head from any more major blows.

His laughter still carried on, but not as strong as the time went on. His body flinched and reacted to every hit from the Joker. After jolting a few times with his arms, part of the blind fold was pushed up his forehead a bit. His right eye behind his mask able to see everything while his left eye was still slightly covered. The blind fold now sitting crookedly on his head. His eyes opening to see the Joker strike him only to go shut as soon as the hit was landed. His body shifting a few times as the force from the kicks moved him.

And then with on more final kick from the Joker his body fell off to one side, now laying on his stomach, all his weight on his chest, making it harder to breathe. The laughter finally dying down in him, and he coughed and tried to catch his breathe again, as the Joker stepped away from him.

As he got a break, Dick removed his heads from protecting his head. He didn’t look over at the Joker. He could care less at this point where he was. Dick just wanted to try and get out of there. So while he got the chance he tried to support himself on his elbows and try to army crawl away, but it wasn’t working to well. He got a few feet, but he couldn’t support his own weight at the moment. His knee had been battered and it didn’t help. The laughs still getting out of him as he collapsed on the ground again. His face again the cold floor. His bare feet and hands laying flat with him, until the Joker came back over and chained his wrists behind his back and tied up his legs.

He struggled a bit against his hands being bound again as the Joker walked away from him a few steps. Dick could see the Joker now, with the blindfold half off. His eyes were tired and weary of the attacks upon him. Struggling wasn’t helping, but he knew he would be able to work away to get his arms from behind his back to the front again, but his body hurt so much he couldn’t manage at this point. He could hear the Joker talking again, and then remembered the camera. Dick had no idea how long he had been there. And after remembering being filmed. He would never wish to see this video, that was if he made it out alive.

As the Joker paused for a second, Dick received anther sharp kick to his side this time. He yelled out, his body turning on it’s left side again as he curled up a bit at the pain. His breathing had become more shallow, and longer breathes. He continued to cough as his lungs tried to keep up.

Dick saw the Joker go for his knife again. Dick’s eyes widened behind the mask as he struggled to try and get away from the mad man. The fear was written all over his body and his eyes wide and focused on the knife for a bit. He continued to try and struggle, he had to get away he couldn’t let the Joker do this too him. ”No,” the words almost came out in a whisper as he saw the Joker’s next move coming. He continued to struggle and tucked his legs in close to him and tried to bring his cuffed hands in front of him again. But the pain of his crusted ribs prevented him from having the usual quick action he could have.

[missj]

The Joker leaned nearer to the vigilante, placing his empty hand behind his ear as to hear him better. Of course he heard what Nightwing had said originally. He just wanted him to repeat it and let the weakness consume him. The small cry for ‘no’ was the first step in the right direction. Well, the right direction for the Joker, that is, which would take Nightwing straight to crying for Batman. Deep down inside, the clown knew that wasn’t happening, but one could wish. No, the most he would probably get was a ‘please stop’, but that would be more than enough for the Joker’s satisfaction. Showing Batman that he could make his little birdie cry for help would satisfy the Joker’s quench for destroying the Dark Knight for a short period of time.

Looking at his knife boredly, he threw the metal object behind him, smiling as he heard it clatter on the table. Instead, he grabbed Nightwing by his costume, lifting him up near his face as best he could. ”Scream loud, little birdie. Daddy’s watching.” He brought his fist back and struck Nightwing across the face, drawing blood. He repeated this action over and over and over and over again. He struck the man with such vigor that the Joker worked up a sweat and actually loosened his hair from his gelled style. Blood covered his pale white knuckles as he cackled with each blow. This was better than working out at the gym!

After several minutes of battering his captive’s face, the Joker let go of Nightwing’s costume and let him fall to the ground. He stood up, removed Nightwing’s blindfold, and pressed out his clothes, trying to recapture his pristine look. He was insane, not a slob. That was when something else caught his attention out of the corner of his eye: a bull whip. Skipping giddily over to the whip, he hummed to himself as he did so. ”Dun dun DUN! Dun dun dunnnnn. Dun dun DUUUUN! Dun dun DUN DUN DUUUN!” He sang the Indiana Jones’ theme song as he cracked the whip several times, looking down at Nightwing without a single ounce of apathy.

”Damn, I tossed my knife away. I shoulda cut out the back of your costume before I whipped you.” He shrugged his shoulders, his smile returning to his face. ”Oh well, looks like I’ll just have to whip you all that much harder… HeheehhHAHAHAHA!” As his laughter rang out, he kicked Nightwing one more time and rolled him onto his stomach. He wound up and cracked the whip across Nightwing’s arms and back, his laughter rising as the cracking sounds echoed through the bell tower.

[Dick Grayson - Nightwing]

Dick saw the Joker's action to better hear him. He knew the clown wasn't deaf, he just liked to hear the cries of pain of others suffering. He stayed silent at the Joker's action. Staying quiet and trying to hold his ground again. His eyes still on the knife in the Joker's hand. Or what he could see through the crooked blindfold. His breathing heaved as has his heart began to beat faster in anticipation of the Joker' action.

He saw the slight lint of light hitting the blade of the knife as the Joker threw it behind him. Hearing it clatter against a metal tray in the back, Dick wasn't as tense now that the clown was unarmed again. The knife was away from him, that's all he could ask for.

Though he didn't like that the Joker had grabbed him by the front of his costume and was trying to hold him up now. He caught the words of the Joker. A sickening feeling coming over him at hearing the Joker haunting him again. And with the first blow to the left side of his face, he could feel more blood running down the side of his face. He let out and 'oof' with every hit that followed. He remained stubborn to give in again.

With every blow, Dick's mind began to spin. The Joker would not let up. Dick felt as though he was half there and half somewhere else. There was nothing he could do.

The minutes seemed to drag, until Joker had let go of his suit and let his drop to the floor once again. At least it wasn't as far of a drop like it had been from the chains. He landed on his back and coughed and groaned in pain as he hit the floor. He rolled off to the left side again, trying to keep the pressure of his back. His face against the cold floor. The cold to his face brought a little relief from the throbbing pain that had been inflicted by the Joker. And once the blindfold was fully removed, it did not help all that much. His left eye had swollen a bit and was now half shut as he tried to look around again. The blood running down his face.

His mind fading in and out as he tried to stay alert to the situation still going on. All he could hear was the Joker humming something. He struggled to try and see if he could get free, but it wouldn't work. Then the sound of something cracking caught his attention again. Bring his sight back upon the Joker as he got nearer.

He could only look up at the Joker, no response coming from him as the Joker continued to talk. His eyes slightly widened when the Joker talked. He knew what was coming, He saw the whip and the Joker's words of just having to hit him harder with the whip, only made him try and want to get away.

Then the Joker kicked him again, getting him onto his stomach. Dick groaned in pain as he ribs were forced to face the ground again. And with the first crack of the whip, the blow upon his back, Dick yelled out. His suit could only protect him so much from the impact of the blow. He wanted to bury his head into the floor to try and hold back his yells. But with every strike, Dick yelled out, his eyes tightly shut.

With every hit, Dick's cries of pain only became louder. Then he yelled out, "STOP!" It was all he could say. He couldn't take the pain. But he wouldn't let another word escape him as he lay there on the ground.

[missj]

The Joker cracked the whip with a hungry vigor, starving to hear Nightwing’s pleas for mercy. He knew this was pure agony for the vigilante; the Joker had electrocuted him, poisoned him with two doses of Joker toxin, battered his feet, stabbed him several times, beaten him with a baseball bat, his own escrima stick, and punched him into a bloody pulp. He pondered for a moment, feeling as if he was forgetting something other than the whip he was currently using. He raised his fingers as he looked up in the air at nothing, counting off each thing he had done. Oh! Right! The psychological torture! How could he forget? That was, after all, his most favorite part!

He continued to crack the whip, sometimes missing his target blatantly. It was all about watching Nightwing shudder and writhe below him; just making him jump at every strike, whether it connected or not, was all a part of the game. The glorious game that the Joker, by the way, was currently winning. His grin grew until it all but consumed his face as he watched the pain as it radiated through his victim’s nearly lifeless body. It wasn’t that he had nearly killed Nightwing – well, he may have, he wasn’t a physician and hadn’t exactly been pacing himself – it was that he could see the fight fading from the bird. Every pore oozed of imminent defeat, which was all the Joker wanted. Call it is his birthday wish, whatever day it was that was his birthday.

As he pulled his arm back for another strike, his prey finally let himself cave. This froze the Joker instantly; mostly because he was trying to savor the moment. That one word was what the Joker had been craving since he conceived this diabolical plot. He wanted Nightwing to have to beg or scream, whichever the vigilante preferred, for the Joker to relent. It was perfect. He was getting everything he wanted this year, it would seem!

Keeping the bull whip tightly in his grip, the Joker leaned closely to Nightwing – close enough to hear him, not close enough for the vigilante to strike him – and spoke very slowly. His face was filled with joy, but was controlled and restrained. He would not let himself rejoice quite yet. No, not yet. There was one more step. ”I’d be more than happy to stop, Robin. Just say the magic word!” His voice was light and kind as he reached out and pressed a sharp fingernail into one of the fresh wound from the whip. The Joker’s voice became very dark as he growled out his last command to the vigilante, making it clear he wasn’t joking this time. ”Please.”

[Dick Grayson - Nightwing]

He lay there, his eyes shut tight, fearing the Joker was going to strike again. His body tense with fear. But after a few second, he realized, nothing was coming. He opened his eyes and glanced around. His breathing rapid as his heart beat faster. He was afraid the Joker was planning something else.

Then he saw the Joker looming over him. The man enjoying the pain and suffering he had inflicted. It was sickening. His eyes gazed to the whip to the eyes of the Joker. His head lay flat on the ground. He only looked up at the Joker. Dick was too tired to try anything. He could only hope this was the end of it. The Joker had got him to yell out for it to end.

Dick slowed his breathing as the Joker spoke again. He realized there was more to this than what it had to be. All this just to get him to cave into the pain and weakness of being a victim. Dick didn't care at this point. He still wanted to fight back. But if he wanted his life, he had no choice. He just wanted it to end.

He then felt a sharp fingernail pierce into one of the wounds on his back that had been inflicted by the whip. Dick yelled out in pain at first, he hadn't expected him to do that. He winced in pain and tried to hold back. The dark word of the Joker ringing out.

Dick was almost silent once again. Holding back as much as he could. But he could feel the pressure of the nail digging into his back. The pain was unbearable on the fresh wound. And Dick had had enough. He couldn't take it any more. He didn't want to face another means of torture that would only be more fun for the Joker.

He was silent for the longest time, not wanting to give in. But there was no way. He knew that. His better senses telling him to cave, it was the only way to make it out alive. He cried out in pain once more from the pressure of the nail on the wound once again.

Then the words came..."Please....stop," Dick said in almost a whisper. Not even looking at the Joker. He wanted to turn away. But he was in too much pain. He didn't want to move. This was the longest break he had had between all the torture. His body feeling weaker as he gave in. He just wanted it to end. He couldn't take it.

[missj]

Standing over Nightwing expectantly, the Joker didn’t dare move a muscle. He wanted to not only be able to hear it himself, but he wanted the camera to pick up the audio. It was extremely important to his cause for the Batman to hear him pleading for him to stop his onslaught. Like everything the Joker did, this had more than one purpose and both had been achieved. He had beaten the living hell out of Nightwing and gotten his point across that the kid isn’t ready to take on the Joker mano-a-mano and had shown the Batman just what he was willing to do to his little kidlets. In fact, the only reason the Joker didn’t murder his prey right then and there was simply because this sent a bigger message; he chose when the Bat and his birds died.

When Nightwing finally conceded and spoke the two words the Joker had willed him to utter, they seemed to fill the cold and empty bell tower like a warm breeze coming through a valley. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside! The Joker patted Nightwing’s face trivially twice before bouncing upwards, now standing. ”Good birdie! Well, since you asked Uncle Joker so nice, I’ll let you have nap time!” He pulled his purple fedora over his shaped green hair, pulling the brim downwards until it reached his brow. The hat cast an evil shadow over the clowns face; enough so to make someone afraid of clowns just by looking at him.

He collected his Joker toxin and his discarded knife, placing them in the various pockets inside his coat before turning his attention back to the vigilante. ”Now, I have a few errands to run, so I need you to stay here and be a good little birdie.” He tied Nightwing’s wrists with rope behind his back before binding his legs together with the same rope. The Joker made sure to pull it tight enough that if Nightwing wanted to struggle out of it, he’d end up rubbing his skin raw.

Making his final round through the room, he picked up the gauntlets, boots, and utility belt, as well as both escrima sticks and placed them on a table within Nightwing’s eye sight but just out of reach. He knew full and well that the kid would likely escape as soon as he left the room; he didn’t particularly care. The bird had served his purpose and the Joker had no use for a hostage – especially not a hostage as capable as Nightwing. He was more trouble than he was worth.

The Joker collected the camera from its hiding spot before waving goodbye to Nightwing and disappearing through the large stone door, before closing it and locking it tightly behind him. If the kid wanted to escape, the Joker was going to at least make him work for it. ”Toodles! It’s been fun! HeheheheheheheHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAA!”

[Dick Grayson - Nightwing]

Dick gave a weak glare at the clown from behind his mask as the clown patted his face. He couldn't stand this clown. This was nothing more than a game for him. Dick stayed still, only resting his head on the floor, trying to regulate his breathing over his battered rib cage. His eyes hardly following the Joker any more. He was too tired and too weak to say any more.

The shadowy face of the clown haunting the way he stood under the light. Part of Dick wished this had been nothing more than a nightmare, but he knew that would never happen. The many cuts, wounds, and his beaten body was too much all too real to have been nothing more than a nightmare. Only the Joker could pull off such a thing.

Compared to anyone else, there was no other villain that could pull off something like this and leave his victim alive after all that. But finally after all this time, the torture was ending. The Joker was leaving. This would be Dick's chance to make an escape, if he could summon enough strengthen to do so. He heard the words of the Joker, waiting for the clown to leave.

He was motionless as the Joker tied his hands behind his back again and this time bound his legs with the same rope. Dick knew this would cut his abilities a harder time of being able to get out of this. But he'd think of something. He could feel the Joker pulling the ropes as tightly as he could.

And once the clown finished and started to move about again. Dick tried to watch as the clown moved his gear onto a table not too far off from where he lay. He saw the clown take down the camera as well. That was the other problem with this whole torment, the Joker has recorded the whole thing. It only tormented Dick's mind more to even thing of replaying any of the torment that night. He saw the Joker leave the room and heard the door shut and lock as he left. He could hear the footsteps leading away from the door as he lay there in the silence.

Dick may have waited about a minute or two to make sure it wasn't some kind of trick. He felt like he just wanted to lay there and wish it all away. But he knew he would have to solve this and get out of it himself. He wished he could just rest, but he knew it wouldn't be a good idea for fear that his body might try to shut down or go into shock. He tried to think through the situation the best he could with how weak he was. He felt like he could black out any time now. Looking around the room, he saw his gear was not too far off, but too far he couldn't reach it from where he was. And with his legs and hand bound behind his back, this made it all the more difficult.

After take a bit to think it out, he determined he wouldn't be able to try and roll to it, it would cause too much pain. But he might be able to crawl. Though there was no way he would be able to sustain it on his stomach. Then he thought how he could turn the situation around. Dick shifted his body and rolled off to one side. And then rolled again until he was on his back. He could crawl, but it would have to be more of sliding across the floor, while he used his body to move himself there.

Once on his back, Dick kept his hand low to try and give his legs more slack. The ropes were rubbing into his skin and causing more pain, but not as much as he had been through that night. His feet were not as numb as before, but just about as sore as ever. His gear was off to the right and straight ahead, so he shifted his body in the direction he needed to go as he slowly used his feet to push himself toward it. It cause him more pain, but he needed to get out of there. After some time of doing this, he had stopped many times to catch his breath and push on, he had made it the tray that had his gear.

Once near it, he turned back onto his side with his back facing the table. And with whatever strength he had left, he kicked out with body legs. He hardly cause damage the first time, but the second time, he was successful and heard the table topple over and the clang of metal hitting the floor as well as his escrima sticks hitting the ground. He yelled out in pain after all that work. And then continued on. He moved closer to the crash and felt around blindly behind his back for his gear. After a while, he got a hold of one of his glove. He felt around it a bit until he could find the right compartment on it with a blade in it. Once he found it, he started to work on cutting through the ropes.

It took about three minutes to cut the ropes to his hands and then he was able to free himself from the remaining ropes that bound his legs. He lay there for a moment, sprawled out on the ground, enjoying the freedom of not being bound any more. But he wasn't about to waste time. He slowly brought himself to lay off to one side and started to grab his gear, putting his gloves back on and his boots. It took a long time for him to do this to get through the pain. But after a while, he was able to get everything and tried to crawl over the door, dragging himself as he went. It took so much energy just to do this, but he had to push through. After getting to the door way, Dick started to pull himself up. His body yelling at him to stay down. But he manage to get to his feet as he tried to open the door. It was looked from the outside. His lock pick wouldn't work from the inside on this lock style. He needed to find another way.

He looked over to see a window on the far end of the room. It was his only chance. Dick started to walk forward, the boots on his feet helping to support as he dragged himself across at snails pace to get to the window as to not fall to the ground. Once at the window, he leaned up against the wall and looked out into the darkness. It was a long drop. So, he pulled out his line gun and fired it off in the room toward the stone wall to hold it. And he hooked the gun around his waist to help support him as he deceased down the wall of the bell tower. It wasn't easy climbing out that window. But lowering himself down was the easiest. Once he made it to the ground, he unhooked the line gun and the line, placing the gun back in it's holder. He knelt to the ground in pain, trying to keep himself going.

He started to collapse to the ground. There was no way he could make it to his motorcycle. He wasn't even sure how he could stay on. But Dick then pressed a button on his gauntlet, signaling for the autopilot to take over on the bike. It didn't take one before the headlight shown his way and as it came to a stop, he climb onto it. He was half out of it at this point and sat on the bike holding onto one handle with one hand as the other found a signal to put through to the computer system to find the closest safe haven. And with that, Nightwing collapsed forward trying to hold onto the bike as it went into autopilot to take him away from this place. He half steered it, but was in no condition to be driving it. At least he was getting away from the tower. And away from all that had happened that night.