At the end of fear

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Before the Doctor had left his home that night he thought thoroughly about what he was going to bring. He wanted to be fully prepared for what he was going to do tonight. Though he was able to improvise and make quick decisions on the spot he was cold and calculated. Jumping into a plan without thinking it through all of it's outcomes was not something he did.

He hadn't forgotten about his 'fortunate' fender-bender with a young lady the other day. Heather Glass a talk show host over one of the many radio shows that broadcast in Gotham city. A late night broadcast that Dr. Crane had been studying for the past few days. It amazing what information can be gotten about a person willing to expose themselves to the public ear. The one thing that he was most interested in was the woman’s fears. He had hoped he had instilled one, to fear him.

He padded himself down in the backseat of the car to make sure he had everything he needed. In the strap towards the top of his jacket on his left he had three syringes two filled with his fear toxin, the other with his newest mixture. In his lower pocket on the outside of the jacket was a small bottle of chloroform, a medium sized surgical padding and another small yet thick container of concentrated Nitric acid. In his right lower pocket he had a good sized brown pouch filled with his toxin in it's purest and first form, powder. His hand moved up to his front pocket on the right upper side of his jacket and there was a simple bold red marker. He had everything he needed.

His eyes fell to the rear view mirror as he noticed that the man driving the car was looking to it often. His expression never changed, yet you could see it in The doctors stare that he wouldn't think twice about killing the man, or putting him in agony. There was a bonus to living in the worst part of town, you could pick up the worst kind of people, willing to do anything for a few hundred dollars. In this luck mans case all he had to do was drive him to the area and wait where he wanted, as long as he wanted. The doctor challenged him to run off before the deal was done with his body language, a single word didn't need to be said about that.

They were heading the right way, and they were close the the young woman’s apartment complex. Dr. Crane wasn't oblivious to law enforcement, after what happened earlier he was sure that she would have some form of protection, though he doubted they would be in her apartment room. The trick would be getting there through force, or without being noticed. He was prepared for both. The only thing that would complicate the matter would be The Batman. Dr. Crane told him him where to stop and the thug did just that. It was on the north side of the apartment building. He planned on going in through Heather's window. First, he had to make a stop at the lowest part of the building.

He handed the thug half of the money he was owed and told him he would get the rest after he got back. In the back seat he finally put on his mask and became The Scarecrow. On the way to the basement of the building he wasn't planning on running into anyone, the sun had already gone down and Gotham was dangerous at night. He walked with a bit of a quickened pace to the bottom of the fire escape. There was a door to the side of the bottom of it that if he was correct was part of the inside stairs to each floor and the basement. He turned the door handle, locked of course. He flipped out from his suit pants pocket Heather's drivers license. He slipped it in between the crack of the door and with a few twists and pushes the door popped right open. The Scarecrow looked both ways before entering the stairwell making sure that no security was coming, he did the same once inside. Carefully and quickly he walked down the stairs and came into the basement. The ventilation system was behind a chain linked locked gate, standard. The gate was guarded by a heavy bolt lock. The Scarecrow pulled out his bottle of Nitric acid and poured just enough to burn through the lock, he would need the rest later.

He was in, the first part of his plan was almost complete. He stepped through the gate and went to the filtration system. Most middle and lower class apartment shared the same poor ventilation/filter system. It would take a little longer for his toxin to spread throughout the building, but it would do the trick before anyone noticed, so he thought. He raised himself up to the top of the vents standing on one of the valves. Carefully he removed the filter panel, it needed to be removed it was thick with an inch of dirt. After removing it he got out his small pouch of powder and poured a significant amount into the vents. Now it was only a matter of time.

Quickly the Scarecrow got out of the basement heading back outside. He made sure again before he stepped out the door that no one was coming. After he felt it was clear he began up the fire escape on the outside stopping at what he believed to be her apartment window leading into her bedroom. Great for fires, terrible for break ins. Before he began to work on the window he slid his back against the wall and peered inside the window from the darkness. Before he was to make any moves on checking whether the window was locked, or getting it open, he had to make sure it was clear.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

After her long chat with the FBI, Heather tries to do her best to carry on with her life. What else can she do? She'd kind of hoped that they'd let her out of the city, helped her hide somewhere, or something that would be more guaranteed to work. Not that she's against having a pair of agents watch her around the clock - that's some comfort. But living on Gotham as long as she has, she has to be skeptical about the odds that a couple of feds will be enough to keep the Scarecrow away from her if he indeed wants to find her again. She's managed to keep up with her show on the radio though - she's used to faking enthusiasm and perkiness she doesn't actually feel.

But she's not been sleeping very well, and the small sounds of the people in the neighboring apartments that she'd long ago gotten used to are now easily mistaken for far closer and more sinister things. Your imagination has a tendency to play tricks on you when you're pretty certain something horribly bad could happen to you at any time. Besides, even at the best of times she's a night owl. It comes from the fact that her work hours are so late in the day - the sun always rises long before she does. So though she's awake now, it's only a little past the time she'd have normally gone to sleep. She's trying - her bedroom is dark since the light is off, but she's very much awake as she sits on top of her bed rather than laying in it. And she has the radio on, though it's not tuned to any particular station - she heard somewhere that the white noise of static is supposed to be relaxing. It doesn't seem to be working.

This really isn't fair - she's a pretty harmless young woman who has never done anything at all to deserve this. If anything, it's the Scarecrow's fault for hitting her car and having this obsessive need to harass her even more. What is even the point of going after her? Is there not anyone more important in this city to attack? She sighs to herself in the darkness, just wanting some sleep. Maybe a glass of water would help. She pushes herself onto her feet and heads for the door.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

For a moment he watched her through the window, keeping shadowed the best he could at the very corner. She looked as if the wheels have been turning in her head for a while. This is exactly what he had wanted, the fear in her had only increased with time. He found himself wondering exactly why he was here at her window. Why he felt the need to stalk her and make her life a misery. The answer to Crane was still unclear , the answer to the Scarecrow was plain as day. He wanted to make a statement to Gotham, and he would use her. Her fear fascinated him if he could only have more time to study her.

His eyes shifted momentarily to the window and he smiled under the mask. The good thing about these cheap windows, although poorly insulated making it take longer for his toxin to enter the rooms, was that they were only held by a latch. This made it easier for firemen to break into them without risk of cutting themselves or the ones they are attempting to rescue. It was a good plan, accept this was Gotham. Seeing her get up his eyes lit with excitement, it was time to make his move quickly. He had no telling how long she would be gone. The Scarecrow would have to make his statement as fast as he could.

He pulled what was left of the acid onto the top of the window right where the latch was. It melted through the cheap paneling and the latch with relative ease though it took a moment. With a bit of force the window finally gave way and he was able to lift it. He moved it slowly to minimize the amount of noise the old window might have made. He was in her bedroom.

The Scarecrow was unaware of just how much time he had, He looked around for a moment scanning the contents of her bedroom. Nothing seemed to be terribly different from a regular bedroom, a closet, a bathroom. The master of fear went to the closet immediately and opened it for what appeared to be no reason. It wasn't wide open, but it was enough to see the darkness within. He didn't enter the closet but instead moved for the bathroom.

Stepping inside he pulled out the red marker and proceeded to write his cynical message on the mirror. 'AND AT THE END OF FEAR...' It read. It was enough to cover the top half of the mirror. He turned quickly and peeled back the curtain of the shower/bath slowly careful not to make too much noise. He wouldn't want to spoil the surprise too early now would he? He leaned in and wrote quickly in big print at the lower portion of the tile 'NOIVILBO'. Of course looking it at it from the mirror would say something very different.

His time was up for the bathroom, it wasn't clear whether she would ever see it or ever go into the bathroom at all. Whoever saw it would relay the message to where he wanted it. Having her see it would only make it all the sweeter. The Scarecrow moved out of the bathroom and finally slipped into the closet where he finally shut the door. The closet was a little claustrophobic, he dealt with many in Arkham at were afraid of enclosed spaces, they didn't bother him at all. He proceeded to then write 'AT THE END OF FEAR' over as much as he could in the closet itself. Having marked at least 3 of them he took a moment to pause and stand in the corner of the closet listening for her to return. Would she go to sleep? Stay in the other portion of her apartment and allow him to write his message on every square inch of her bedroom? He reached into his pocket quietly and pulled out the chloroform and the surgical padding. He soaked it quickly and placed it back in his coat 'just in case' The cynical mind thought.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Reaching the kitchen, she pulls out a glass and gets some cold water from the tap. A warm glass of milk is supposed to be better for sleeping, but she doesn't want to bother with that. Trying to let herself relax, she takes her time. While she's not about to convince herself that the Scarecrow won't make good on his threat, even if that's what she really hopes, perhaps she can convince herself that she'll be okay tonight at least - it's probably the only thing that will allow her to sleep.

It doesn't help that she's well aware that a lot of these criminals are more likely to attack at night - sleeping during the day would be a lot easier, but it's not a practical way to live. She finds herself mulling over the idea of a sleeping pill... No, not tonight, she decides. Being groggy all the next day isn't fun, so that's more of a desperation move and she's not there yet.

She heads back into her room, and heads straight for her bed. She's long since run out of things that she might do to kill time in her bathroom, and she just wants some sleep. That's all. Is that too much to ask? Apparently it is. She fails to notice that certain doorways are either more or less open than there were, but that's only be expected. She, like most people, just isn't that observant. She lays back on her bed, pulling the covers over herself this time. But sleep doesn't come - her eyes remain wide open, staring at the ceiling. Maybe if she just lays here long enough she'll bore herself to sleep? She's pretty sure that's how she managed to fall asleep the night before - she can't really remember.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

He breathed calmly as he heard her enter her bedroom once more. He wasn't sure exactly where she was in the room but that was a risk he was willing to take. In the dark he managed to write more of his message though some of them might have overlapped or written at weird angles. It wasn't meant to look pretty, it was meant to drive her insane.

He thought for a moment about exactly what he wanted to do from this point. It wouldn't be long before the entire lower half of the building was in a panic. It was then he decided what he really wanted from all of this. He wanted her to fear him so much that she couldn't get her mind away from him. What a twisted philosophy...If his theory was correct he could make it happen.

Capping the pen and putting it away he decided that he wasn't going to kidnap her tonight unless it became absolutely necessary. Which could still happen. The Scarecrows hand went to the door knob of the closet and opened it as slowly as he could without stopping the opening motion of the door. He stepped out of the shadows slowly letting the moonlight of Gotham hit him from the window. If he saw her now surely a scream would follow. He would have to subdue her quickly. The Scarecrows hand stayed over his pocket ready to get the soaked cloth if need be. He may not be able to stop the scream but it will make her much easier to carry.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

In spite of the sound of the radio static, she can still hear the faintest of creaks that the building makes as if they were all happening in the room with her. Maybe she really should have taken that sleeping pill - can she really afford to have another restless night? It's torture. Maybe she should have just let the Scarecrow kill her. Sure she'd be dead, but then she wouldn't have to be putting up with this right now. Nah, that's just the sleep deprivation talking...

Her eyes suddenly shift when she thinks she sees a shadow move out of the corner of her eye. Though the noises have been bothering her more, little tricks of the light have been bothering her too - enough that she doesn't immediately react to this one. If you jump at shadows often enough, eventually you get used to them again. But this one moves again while she's watching it. Her eyes go wide - no, that was not a trick of the light.

Given what she does for a living, it's hardly surprising that Heather would have a strong set of lungs. And the scream that comes from them is sudden, very loud, and actually involuntary. She's very much been on edge since she ran into the Scarecrow the first time - she doesn't even have to be able to identify who the shadowy figure in her darkened room is to assume the worst.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Standing there partly hunched over in the moonlight he watched her lift to scream. For a moment in his world the scream was like beautiful music to his ears. The sure sound of fright pleased The Scarecrow to no end. From now on it would be a race against time. Surely a scream of that size alerted the FBI, and her neighbors around her. The FBI however were about to get much more than they bargained for. Panic would soon ensue through the building but The Scarecrow knew that the FBI would at least have time to call for back up. His moves would have to be quick.

He reached quickly in his pocket and pulled out the still soaked cloth that he had dowsed only moments ago. He had litter concern for the evidence the drips would leave behind, as if his message all over the walls wasn't enough. The Scarecrow wasn't aware of who was currently in charge of handling the FBI in Gotham but he would make it a point to find out after he was in safety. For now he hoped that they would get his message.

The Scarecrow quickly moved from his position to the bed. He attempted to subdue her while she was still in it. From the awkward angle he made an attempt to push her back onto the bed. If he could he would place the cloth over her mouth and nose and would hold firmly. The Scarecrow only had a few precious moments if she was able to struggle away from him he would have to make another plan. Dancing with her didn't seem like too bad of an idea. “From the darkness your nightmares come to take you away” The Scarecrow attempted to intimidate her with her words. If she was to cause a fuss and make this harder on herself. The Scarecrow knew that the toxin would be effecting the FBI and the other in the building if not already, very soon. This would only buy him more time before there reinforcements arrived. He was sure that if any were to come quickly that he would have to be gone. With the Police and most of Gotham knowing his MO it would be likely they would come prepared.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Though Heather's scream alerts the FBI agents keeping watch just outside of her apartment that the young woman they're supposed to protect is being attacked, their response is less than immediate. When dealing with someone like the Scarecrow, who is able to cause trouble on a massive scale, numbers matter and the priority is to call for backup - lots of backup. Though they aren't yet aware of the gas slowly filling the building, even though it's probably the reason why the hallway has been starting to feel more foreboding than usual, such a tactic is very much a part of the Scarecrow's MO it won't be a surprise to either them, the rest of the FBI, or the police responders when they do. It's only after they've radioed their headquarters and gotten confirmation that they charge into Heather's apartment to try and protect the young woman.

And she, meanwhile, does her best to put up a fight, but it's not very effective. For one thing, even though she suspected it may happen, she's a bit stunned that the Scarecrow really is in her bedroom and, aside from the scream, that makes her slow to react. For another, being under the covers makes it difficult for her move. But perhaps most importantly, she's short, small, and doesn't exercise much - she just doesn't any strength on her side. So even though she's trying to make this as difficult as possible, there's only so much fuss that she's able to raise. When there's suddenly a sweet-smelling rag over her face, she attempts to hold her breath - she knows enough of criminals to take a wild guess at what it is. But when you're struggling and panicked, holding your breath is no easy task. It's only another moment before she feels herself getting lightheaded...

The FBI agents quickly scan the front room, but seeing nobody there, they head straight for the bedroom since that's the most likely place that the scream came from - their duty to protect Heather overriding the increasing sense of fear that's working its way into their minds. For now, at least.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

The Scarecrow battled for strength over the feeble young lady beneath him. Despite the fight she seemed to have in her he smiled from behind the mask has he felt her body giving in. Her nervous system would surely begin to shut down within a few more moments. Knowing he was out of time he knew he had to take what he could get. The agents that were surely here to protect her would be coming in at any moment. Not that he wasn't fully prepared to take them down if necessary. By now their worlds would start to distort and instill fear in them, seeing him would only heighten the effect and being frightening after all, is what The Scarecrow did best.

His main concern at the moment was leaving before the rest of the FBI got here. Surely knowing that The Scarecrow was in the building they would appear in full force and cover the exits. He had to move, now. Pressing harder on Heather's mouth attempted to lift her with his other arm and remove her from the bed. With as much of a fight as she was putting up she would have minor control of her motor nerves for the moment. If he was able he would attempt to drag her to the window side.

If he could get her out of the window The Scarecrow would be home free, with a running car cleverly placed on the opposite block there would be little resistance if he could make it there. Nothing was unusual about a car in Gotham City. Getting down the fire escape with a much more 'willing' individual would be simple. The Scarecrow was much taller than her, and although not being very built he suspected he could lift her with relative ease.

He was ready, ready for the worst, ready for the best. He dared anyone to enter her bedroom. The Scarecrow dared anyone to stop the Master of fear. Though he was unaware of the presence on the other side of the doorway he was sure he was not alone with her. Knowing that she had alerted many with her scream. “ You dare to deny The Scarecrow?” He bellowed at through the distorter in his mask. He was attempting to intimidate anyone nearby. The toxin would only be helping the terror that would come from his voice. “Would you risk her life!?” He threatened as he continually fought her with the hopes that the fighting would end soon.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Heather finds her movements coming slower, weaker, and less coordinated. She's only vaguely aware that she's being dragged from her bed and to the window, but she doesn't have very long to think about that since shortly after that she goes completely limp, quite obviously unconscious. And her size, once again, is a disadvantage - she's not that heavy, even as dead weight.

Hearing the distorted voice of the Scarecrow, the agents have confirmation that their worst assumptions about the scream are true: the Scarecrow is definitely here. And the distortion is only enhanced by the fear toxin now starting to take hold upon their minds. It causes one of them to hesitate - the younger of the two of them. That voice sounds more like a monster than a man...

The other, however, surges forward until he opens to door to the bedroom and sees the Scarecrow with Heather by the window. He quickly draws his gun, but that's when he hesitates. He, being more experienced, is aware enough of himself to realize that the monster that the fear gas is insisting is there can't actually be real, but he's no Batman. And the fear toxin plays upon his worry about hitting the young woman if he actually shoots his gun. Worry and fear play upon his face as he stands in the doorway, while his partner still in the other room fails in his efforts to psyche himself into following.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Feeling the girls body go limp he wrapped his wright arm more tightly around the upper part of her waist. He was at the window with her and now it would only be a matter of opening the window and escaping before the rest of the FBI and the GCPD got here. Which would be soon, very soon.

The agent bursting in through the door was of no surprise to scarecrow. This would help him more than hurt him. The Scarecrow kept the girl close to his own body as he lifted the window with his free hand while facing the poor agent. He could only imagine what he was beginning to see. “Are you so sure of where you are?....” The Scarecrow began to taunt and confuse him. The distortion of his voice would make it sound like it could be coming from just about anywhere. “Watch out!” He spat out in an attempt to confuse and distract the agent. It would be bold of him to fire as he used the girl as a shield.

He slid the door up as much as he could before sliding a leg out the back of it. He bent his body into an odd crouching position. His next move would have to be quick with the girl. The man could start firing wildly at any moment. With one breath The Master of fear slid out the window leaving the agent to go mad in the dark. The effect would only be temporary, but long enough for him to be far away. Placing both arms under her now she was much easier to carry. One foot in front of the other he went down the short fire escape to the street and made a dead run for the vehicle that lay in wait.

[tiff]

Tiffany arrived on the scene an hour after the Scarecrow had allegedly escaped. The back up team had appeared fifteen minutes after the call to headquarters, but Tiffany had been preoccupied. After Pamela Isley's video, he had been spending a majority of his time in the lab with government scientist trying to test his blood work to find a cure for this strange rare poison. It infuriated him to no end, to know that a woman who manipulated men with lust had managed to doom the city in such a way. It wasn't his only problem after all. In two weeks, he would be flown to DC to face Congress in Congressional Oversight Hearing with the FBI Director. His stunt to capture the Joker had caught negative national press.

CNN stated, Gotham City has turned into Ethiopia. It surprising that the complete anarchy is actually created by the government.

Fox shouted, The Government is ripping away are freedoms! What is Obama doing! The Founding Father's thought the British occupying their homes was absolutely absurd what would they think of their own government occupying a city!

MSNBC complained, Capital punishment is being paraded! Before long, the police will bring bullets to occupy protesters in NYC! Millions of our students dead! PROTECT! End it! You're not protecting anyones life!

Tiffany had muted every news station as his face was plastered and insulted. He ignored it. They could not understand the necessary actions that needed to take place to create a garden of eden out of weeds. He had explained his reasoning to the Director. The Director was cold, but far more understanding then the media. The Director cared about results that they could show to Congress, but if results were not seen, Tiffany would be replaced. At least, that was what the Director informed Tiffany. Tiffany did not know that the Director already planned to place the blame of the failed program all upon Tiffany's shoulders. Their was too much public outrage to save the program, but the Director was smart enough to know not to tell Tiffany that the program was ending.

Tiffany, therefore, was determined. He had to show results. He had to protect Gotham. He had to get rid of that sinful red head, but he had to put the poison aside to focus on the alert. The Scarecrow for whatever reason had become obsessed with a young woman. Tiffany had heard the talk show once, but didn't particularly hold an interest to people's opinions. He only respected one opinion, and he heard it every Sunday. But just like his response to Miss. Kyle, he ordered the woman to be followed and protected. When a criminal showed interest, it was an opportunity to lay out bait. He knew two men probably wouldn't stop the Scarecrow, but he had expected the Backup to arrive before he managed to escape with the girl.

Using her as an incentive to lure out the evil that attracted to her was fine, but allowing that evil to actually take her into the darkness infuriated Tiffany. The girl was far too young. Ambulances were already around the building that had been fully evacuated. The people being taken to the hospital were screaming and incoherent. Tiffany could already determined that the Scarecrow had laced his toxin into the ventilation system. He shook his head in disgrace. They needed to make sure all ventilation systems were better secured or turned off automatically when the security was breached. He placed on his portable gas mask and headed underneath the caution tape and towards the building.

His men tried to ask him questions, but he waved them aside. He had no interest in hearing excuses. He walked into the empty front lobby and quickly headed to the stairs. He walked down to the basement to make sure his theory had been correct. He walked into the basement and noticed that a few contracted men from the ventilation company were already their attempting to clear out of the building. They continued working as Tiffany looked at the door silently. He glared at the destroy lock, some type of acid. It was not surprising. The FBI had a full compiled report about Jonathan Crane. The man had a handle over his chemicals.

He shook his head. How could such filth walk this planet? A man obsessed with fear...disgraceful. Fear is a weakness in almost all man. A sin, that can be taken away by true faith in the Lord. You lose all fear when knowing the Lord stands by your side. Death is no longer the end, but the beginning where love embraces those who believe. Fear was not something Tiffany associated himself with, but a man who uses it as a tool, manipulates it like the Devil, is a man who needs to be ended.

Tiffany moved up the stairs and towards the apartment of Heather Glass. His men were there all with protective gas mask. One lifted the caution tape for him as he duck underneath.

"Where was she abducted?" he asked through the mask to the female agent.

"The bedroom. He broke through the window and escaped the way he came in. We believe he took a car based on the recent tracks in the alley," she informed.

"Do we have security tapes from the vendors near this alley and the roads? I want an ID on the plates," he commented calmly. They would have to find this lunatic, hopefully before he dumped the car. He moved towards the bedroom as the woman followed.

"We are gathering security tapes now. Agents are looking through them," she informed.

He nodded. Tiffany didn't ask about his men who had been dosed with the toxin. They understood the risks in the job they took. He walked into the bedroom and saw the blanket on tousled on the ground. He literally pulled her out of bed. A very vulnerable position. He even attacked and lurked in the shadows like a disgrace. His men were taking pictures of the Bathroom and Closet. He walked over to the Bathroom and saw the writing in the mirror.

AND AT THE END OF FEAR....OBLIVION

Tiffany's mouth tilted downwards ever so slightly into a frown. Tiffany never enjoyed horror movies. He saw them as demons entertainment, but this type of pathetic act reminded him of the very few he had seen. They all ended with everyone dead.

"He's wrong," Tiffany muttered as he stared at the mirror. He didn't mean to say anything, but his skin was feeling tight on him. Knowing the air was toxic made him feel like an dark blanket was attempting to consume him.

"What sir?" the female agent asked.

Tiffany didn't answer at first. He stared for a moment longer before turning away. "At the end of fear there is acceptance," he informed as he walked away from the bedroom to meet his men with the security footage.