woah there doll face




i stepped back and watched my sorroundings, waiting for the bat to come. Oh how i wsihed he’ll come.
i sighed as i closed my eyes imagining the life im gonna have when i jump.

since i met him, i cant stop thinking about him. its driving me crazy.

the first week since he escaped, i stared to plan things and started to drink more.

second week, i killed 3 people and robbed a bank.

third week i shot my ex boyfriend and killed his 5 roommates.

fourth week i started to look for him, and anybody who comes my way, i had to kill. its been two months now and im in the 5th list of murderers/psychopaths
in Gotham City.

I cant stop myself.

Everyone was shocked when i killed the infamous Harley Quinn. Slit her neck open, stabbed her stomach and throwed her in the sea.
They found her five days ago; every since that people started to freak out, becuse for a fact no one can kill her, because of someone protecting her;


Oh how i wished i can also kill that clown, he messes with my head. Every. Goddamn. Time.

the words he said to me that night, it wont stop repeating in my brain. i fucking hate it.

i’ve been planning killing the clown the past few weeks but nothing really works outs, until i killed harley.

he’s been blowing up hotels i’ve stayed in lately, but he’ll never really find me. he never will.

maybe he shows his self to me anytime soon, and gets his revenge. But i have to kill him first.

“look who we got here…” i snapped out of my thoughts as i heard his voice.

i snapped my attention towards the grinning clown ten inches away from me.

“wasnt expecting my biggest joke to arrive in my party, huh,” i say smirking pulling out a gun.

“woah there doll face, didnt mean to crash your party..” he trailed off still smirking

“so tell me, is it driving you insane, doll? driving you insane it lead you to killing harley?” he asked, his face turning into a more
serious expression. I laughed at him.

“watcha gonna do about it mistah j? skin me alive? kill me? or even hurt me, really, really bad?” i mocked him. oh i know his stories.
he’s not the only smart one here.

he’s expression suddenly changed into a more annoyed one.

“y'know..all that chit-chats gonna get ya hurt, doll.”

“then hurt me,” he pulled out his gun, pulling the trigger quickly, as i felt it hit my stomach.
i smiled wickedly at him as i took the chance to jump.

my body hit the boiling chemical as i cried in pain.

and suddenly everything turns black.


ok so first (y/n) have the same accent like harley and yeah.
Watcha guys think???
SHOULD I MAKE A PART 2? (bc for real i really enjoyed writing this)
much love xx

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