Nothing To Fear..

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

What should have brought unpleasant feelings back to the doctor only brought revenge to his mind. This place was all too familiar to him. Arkham looked surprisingly the same emptied as it did full. “Your Payment..” The Scarecrow said in an attempt to get the drivers attention. He was at his destination and now the thug would expect to get paid, there was only one problem. This unfortunate thug happened to be a witness. Slowly the cynical doctor reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the first syringe. This one he knew was filled with his fear toxin. He made it look like he was reaching for his payment, but he had something different in mind. With a quick motion the Scarecrow stabbed the needle fully into the mans neck at an upward angle and injected the full amount of toxin it contained. If it didn't kill him there, it would soon enough.

Gently The Scarecrow picked the fragile Heather Glass up with both arms and removed her from the vehicle. He walked up the steps of Arkham Asylum to the main building. Inside two of his newly acquired help stood at the entrance on guard. He turned to the one on his left and simply stated “Dispose of him and drive the vehicle into the water”

Proceeding down the halls with Heather in his arms he kept a close eye on his surroundings. Everything was still familiar to him as if he had worked here yesterday. His pace quickened knowing that the effect of the chloroform would wear off eventually and it had taken a bit of time to get here. He passed various cells and padded rooms only halting at one. His own, or what use to be the room they kept him in. The clear plastic wall made it easier for them to study him, and as before, him to study them.

This would be the perfect place for her for now. He opened the cell using the very same password that had been used to lock the clear door before. The Scarecrow brought her in and laid her down on the less than comfortable fold out bed of the padded room. It would hold her well enough until she woke up. For now, she had only began to experience fear. Dr. Crane grabbed the bottom of his mask and took it off, he wouldn't need it right now. Slowly he exited her cell and locked the plastic wall behind him.

While she was sleeping he made sure that the various workings of the Intensive treatment center were working, including the cameras and the large hot white lights that were in every room. They made for a quite uncomfortable stay, but comfort wasn't what he was going for. Now all that was left to do, was wait.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Consciousness does not come easily for Heather. It comes with a headache and a certain fuzziness of thought that makes her want to pass out again and wake up later when it goes away. But that's just not the way things work. She groans quietly to herself as she becomes aware of just how bright it is - bright lights do not mix very well with headaches. It takes her several more moments before she asks herself why she's waking up somewhere with such bright lights - while it's not uncommon for her to wake up with a headache, the lighting is her first clue she's nowhere she expects to be.

Squinting against it, she opens her eyes but only sees a plain ceiling above her, equipped with that overly bright light. They shift down to the bare wall by her feet. Where is this? Doesn't look familiar to her at all. It's only when her eyes shift to the side and she sees the locking door and the clear plastic wall that she starts to really realize that whatever is going on falls squarely within the 'not good' category.

Trying to get her sluggish brain to work better, she tries to think of the last thing she remembers. Well, she remembers doing her radio show, the trip home with those agents escorting her because of the Scarecrow's threat... Of course, the second her mind brushes against the idea of the Scarecrow, remembering the rest is suddenly much easier. "Oh God," she says to herself as the surge of adrenaline suddenly helps her wake up, and she finds herself abruptly attempting to get to her feet. However, the chloroform isn't quite out of her system and she gets dizzy the instant she sits up. Okay, she'll just sit here until that goes away. Then she can panic properly.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

The Doctor wasn't far, just down the hall in a small monitoring office. He remembered it well as he sat in the chair that many had before, watching the security screens of the patients in intensive care. His eyes were not focused primarily on them but more past them. It was clear that he had no concern of being followed or tract down, though he knew that it was eventually inevitable. He would be ready. His plans were playing out in front of him over and over in his head. There were still things he had to do.

If someone had been watching him it would seem as if he hasn't blinked since he sat down. They would all pay for what the had done to him, and this time there would be no one left to stop him. After all that he had gotten away with already he doubted The Batman would even make an appearance. It was beginning to be the perfect path to flood the streets with fear. The FBI had taken enough notice to put Heather under protection however. They would need to be his primary focus. By now he had hoped they already received his message. If he was going to continue to elude the FBI, he would have to find out more about who is running the operation in Gotham.

A movement in the corner of his eye caused him to finally blink and shift his attention. Dr. Crane looked into the monitor. She was finally awake. A smile slowly formed along his lips. Now he could continue his research. That is what his mind justified it as. Dr. Crane lifted from the chair he was in and moved to the door towards the intensive treatment entrance. For now he would leave his costume in that room. Before exiting the door he ran his fingers across the desk and rolled a small syringe along it's edge until it reached the end and he caught it off the side. There was almost a spring to the doctor step.

He came to a stop while walking down the hall and turned to face her cell. The Doctor walked slowly along side of it as he watched her attempting to get her motor nerves working again. A small but sinister smile could be seen as he lifted the needle in his hand and ran the tip along the clear cell wall. He walked forward a few steps dragging it along it as he went. It was in an effort to get her to react of course. It would only be the beginning of her fears. For now he wouldn't say a word simply waiting for her reactions. He concluded she should have enough strength to tell him how she felt about the situation momentarily.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Still fighting off the mental haze and dizziness when she spots something moving out of the corner of her eye, the physical effects take a back seat in her mind as all of her attention shifts to something else - a certain needle held in the hands of the man she knew to be the Scarecrow. She stares at it with no apparent reaction for a moment, still trying to come to grips with the idea that she's woken up trapped in a small room she has no hope of escaping, and at the mercy of one of the worst people she can imagine. What's would be the point of giving her fear toxin right now? It couldn't make her hallucinate something much worse than this.

Unable to control her reaction when it comes, she whimpers quietly and she feels tears coming to her face. She's helpless here, really - she's just a young woman with a radio show and her skills match that. Can't get out of this cell, can't fight. And since she can't do anything else, she might as well just sit here and cry.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

The cynical doctor continued to run his needle across the wall before stopping and placing it into a strap on the inside of his pocket. Dr. Crane leaned forward with one arm on the glass and tilted his head slightly as he watched her. Tears were to be expected from such a fragile human being. Sadness because of fear. “You know Miss Glass I think we got off on the wrong foot.” He swallowed and looked down for a moment waiting for her to calm herself some. “Would it be easier if I came in and talked to you face to face?” He said while lifting from his leaning position and heading towards the lock on the wall.

He placed his fingers lightly on the keys and toyed with him as he watched the tears roll down her face. Days before he had listened to several of her recorded radio broadcasts. Her disposition towards Batman fascinated him. He wondered exactly how she felt now about him? It's quite different when your the one staring fear in the face. She should consider herself lucky, a privilege! That the doctor had chosen to study her.

He waited to see if she would respond almost doubting that she would at this point. In cases of extreme fright the mind can take a various amount of defense mechanisms to help cope with the situation. Some would be hysterical, some would shut down, but all had one thing in common. The root of fear itself. The doctor had great plans for Heather, his first study subject in quite some time.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Heather doesn't calm down by very much, even at the words that he says - it's more that she eventually manages to stop herself from whimpering, even though she can't stop the tears from flowing. Even though he's been quiet for awhile, she reported on a few of his doings the last time he was active during her weekly broadcasts back in college. And though a lot of people would assume that she's unintelligent because of her job or her looks she isn't - she can still remember the details. She really wishes she didn't right now, because it's all coming much too easily to mind. He's going to do something terrible to her - she just knows it.

So his second statement causes her to suddenly scramble to her feet, and this time they respond. But that's only so that she can retreat to the corner of the cell - as far away as she can physically get from the door. An extra few feet of separation may be completely pointless in this case, but that doesn't mean she doesn't want it. "Please, no! Please!" she finds herself begging without her conscious consent. It didn't work the first time she told did that, back when she first ran into him, so it's doubtful that it will work now.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

The doctor's face lit up as she reacted to him moving to the lock. His fingers laced the keys for a few moments before punching in the right combination and the wall unlocked. At first he only took a few steps in obviously not worried about her running past him. He made no effort to lock the door behind him. He doubt she had the nerve to cross him right now. Dr. Crane took a few more steps towards her a slipped one hand in his pocket lifting the other as if to show her the room. “This room is special..” Dr. Crane said to her while his eyes gazed about the room. This was the cell they placed him in. “They thought I was crazy, What do you think Miss Glass? Do you think I'm crazy?” He continued changing his posture to a more unstable approach.

In a quick forward motion he took a large step towards her and grabbed for her wrists. Only in an attempt to hold her against the wall corner she had so conveniently placed herself to. She would probably fight him but he made the effort all the same to whisper in her ear from this point. “Tears Miss Glass? I haven't hurt you...Are you Scared?” The doctor asked her, almost expecting a response.

Why was he doing all of this? If you were to ask him you would probably not find the answer. Heather almost seemed to just be in the wrong place at the wrong time...with the wrong person. Dr. Crane would never admit to there being anything special about the girl, but something had made him pursue her. There was however a point to be proved to Gotham in all of this, and that The Scarecrow had already began to show, starting with the message left at her apartment.

“Right now...The FBI is in your apartment or already long gone from it, trying to tell the people there that it's all okay and that nothing is wrong. That they have everything under control. This is the lies that they will say.” He attempted to jerk her some to frighten her. “But the truth is that there is a woman missing from her apartment....and they will never find her. There is nothing left but Fear and despair ” He added in a lowly whisper that trailed off pulling away from her some to watch her react.

Dr. Crane knew he had left plenty at the scene of the crime for the FBI to track him down. Eventually they would narrow down their possibilities and find out that he was at Arkham. But he was ready for them. He welcomed another chance to see them cower in fear at the hands of the Master of Fear.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Though she's already in the furthest corner of the cell, Heather finds herself trying to get even further away as he comes closer. Though with her back to the corner, all that does is push her back up against the wall. And by this point she's only half listening to his words - they don't matter to her nearly as much as the simple fact that he's now in the cell with her. So she doesn't answer his question - she can't think of a way to respond to that one. And even if she could it's doubtful that it would be the honest one.

And then suddenly he has her by the wrists, hold them against the wall. She struggles against the grip, but only for a moment. Clearly the man's stronger and faster than her, and it's so easy to just give up. What's the point anyway? She doubts that she's getting out of here unless and until he decides to let her out. And she's even more doubtful that she'll still be alive and sane at the point, if it happens at all.

Unable to get any further away and now caught by her wrists, she turns her face to one side so that she at least doesn't have to look directly at him. And her knees seem to grow weak as she sinks down as far as she's able to in this position, even now reflexively doing anything she can to just get a little bit further away.

She doesn't respond to his words, but the tears still flow and the whimpering comes back. He's right, really - in all her reporting she's never seen the slightest sign that the people in charge of the FBI actually care about anyone getting hurt. They gave her two agents to protect her from the Scarecrow - anyone in Gotham could tell you that wasn't enough.

The only lingering thought in the back of her mind that's anywhere near hopeful is that it's possible that Batman will turn up. But then, Gotham's self-proclaimed hero doesn't always show up in time to save the victim, does he? So even that small hope is fleeting at best - she wouldn't consider herself to be a lucky person, and she can only assume that will apply to this situation.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Dr. Crane let her slip down from his hands, letting her sit if she wished. Her tears were not bringing him the exact satisfaction of the reaction he wanted. It wasn't a problem, he would get it one way or another. The doctor slowly knelt down to her level still on his feet but with his knees bent and watched the tears roll down her face. “Well Miss Glass if you want to get right into our session I suppose you can begin with answering a question...” He stated a bit annoyed that she hadn't spoken.

He slipped his right hand into the strap where he had placed the small needle and removed it. It was filled with an appropriate amount of fear toxin for her estimated weight and height. The injection would be enough to make her experience what most did with a small recovery time. He wasn't going to give her nearly enough to loose her sanity 'through the toxin anyway' The thought came to mind of the event itself and the effect it would have on her, if she survived it at all.

Slowly the doctor held the needle up in front of her face to see if she would change her mind about her cooperation. He would get what he wanted either way. “What do you fear Miss Glass?” he asked her fully expecting an answer this time. To show that he wasn't bluffing he tapped the needle and pushed a small amount of the toxin out. The doctors hand attempted to slip to the back of her arm and hold it forward. Ready to inject it quite terribly if need be.

She was running out of time with Dr. Crane over deciding whether she wanted to cooperate or not. All amount of joy in what she was doing had left his face now. His cold blue eyes stared at her, daring her to challenge him.

The Batman was the furthest thing from his mind at this moment. Though he always had a plan if something didn't quite go his way. At this point however he would have welcomed him to join the FBI in their hopeless effort to catch him. This time, the Master of fear would show them the error of their ways, to kneel before fear incarnate.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

If Scarecrow wants a reaction of outright fear from Heather, the problem is actually that he's pushed her a bit beyond that and into more of a state of helplessness - when neither fight or flight seems to be an option, your only choice is to wait and see what happens to you. When her arms are released, Heather sinks all the way to the floor, wrapping her arms over her knees and sitting curled in a tight ball.

But her efforts to look away prove fruitless when she sees him put out the syringe again out of the corner of her eyes. Her eyes immediately lock onto it, and her whole body shudders since she's physically unable to get any further away from it when he grabs her arm in a way quite obviously meant to make it easy for him to inject her with the stuff. And the shudder doesn't completely pass - it lingers on as she begins to tremble slightly. If she could will herself out of existence, she'd probably do it right now just to get out of here.

There's no response for a moment to his question, but she finally starts to talk very quietly. Her voice is strangely vacant, as if the words aren't actually coming from her - mechanical in a way, but with a strained edge to it that hints at the fact that she could easily break out in hysterics at the slightest provocation, due to the helpless terror currently twisting inside of her. "Needles, Gotham's rogues, death, losing my mind, pain," she lists off, obviously starting at the ones most currently on her mind, but there's many more where those game from, "Drowning, heights, snakes, flying, horses, pigs, my uncle, being out alone at night..." She trails off with a strained look on her face as she reaches the end of the ones she can think of off the top of her head - while she knows that there's many others, she'd actually have to think in order to name them and her ability to think right now is rather limited.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Dr. Crane turned his ear towards her so he could hear the sweet faint voice that escaped her. She had finally given him the answer that he sought, as calculated and robotic as it was. It was in a sad attempt to please his demands as he threatened with the needle. The fear in her eyes was captivating. Unfortunate for her that it wouldn't save her.

The grip around her arm tightened as the doctor turned the needle in his other hand and forced it into the curl of her arm. There was a possibility that he didn't hit a vein but he had done it so many times to unwilling subjects it was almost second nature. He felt as if he could have done it with his eyes closed. His finger pressed down quickly on the top of the syringe injecting her with the full amount.

It never mattered whether she gave her fears to him or not. He would have done it anyway. The syringe was pulled out just as fast as it was put in. The doctor placed the needle gently back into it's strap and looked into her eyes. It wouldn't be long before she began to feel the effect, especially in the state her body was currently in. “You'll have to excuse me for a few moments, There's something I have to take care of.” The disturbed doctor said while raising to stand and look down at her. “Make yourself at home.” He taunted. With that stated he turned on his heels and walked out her cell. He made no effort to lock the cell behind him, it didn't matter. He wanted her to try and run.

For the moment he had other things to do if he was going to prepare for company. With almost a stride he left her alone and went through the doors and took a left towards a small lab. The room was poor lit for a lab, the lights flickered on and off due to lack of maintenance. It was enough for what he needed however. On the left table already sitting in wait was a brace similar to the one he used for his needled glove. Almost identical actually, except this one was built to pump inwards, instead of outwards. Grabbing the brace he lifted his jacket sleeve up as far as he could. The doctor wrapped it around his arm and had it latch together to keep it firmly in place. He moved down the lab table a bit more and went to a clear long container of vials. He counted slowly down the line to 4 and picked the vial up. It was unmarked unlike the other ones.

Dr. Crane was calm and collected for what he was about to set up. Turning on his heels he walked to the other side of the room and found a container filled with capped sterile needles. Gently he pulled out one and removed the cap. The doctor moved back to the lab table and picked up the vile. The syringe filled slowly all the way to the top, he was careful to make sure there was no air left and as much as he could fit was in the needle.

It hadn't been tested as much as he would have liked. In fact it was hardly tested at all, but he knew it would work. It wasn't invincible, it wasn't perfect, but it 'would' work. Dr. Crane exhaled slowly and braced himself as he pushed the needle into his skin in the open pocket of the brace. The needle fit into place with a click. He pulled his jacket sleeve back down and it fit snug over the brace. It was clear that something was on his arm.

Now there was only one thing missing. He left the lab and walked slowly down the hall placing his hand in his jacket pocket as he often did. The security room he was in previously still held his mask. Walking into the security room he didn't care to check the cameras only grab the mask. Dr. Crane clicked the voice masker to the on position and placed it over his head. It was time for him to go back to Heather. After a short walk the Scarecrow stepped back into the intensive treatment center and began to walk down it's hall headed back to where he had left her.

It didn't concern him at all whether she had left the room or not. She was in his world now, and there was no where to hide.

[tiff]

Tiffany had received the security footage from the ATM across the street that had correctly tagged the car that the Scarecrow and Miss Glass were in. He automatically demanded the security tapes of all the stop lights in Gotham, such a request would normally take weeks under the system before PROTECT where one was required to get a warrant. With PROTECT, he merely had to ask, and Gotham's Transportation Department was forced to hand over the tape. From there it was easy to determine the direction of the car. They knew the first stop light they would reach, and merely moved through the tapes of the next stop light, depending on whether the car turned right or left, or went straight.

Tiffany started to frown as he began to realize the general direction of where the car was going.

Arkham Asylum.

Scarecrow was using the very building they had emptied, believing the FBI would not look their again. His frown deepened. Was he attempting to taunt him or did demons only seek comfort through the evil walls of their birth? Tiffany was uncertain, but he knew his men would be watching all areas previous disband more closely from now on.

He pulled his radio from his waist and ordered a team together to head to Arkham. He himself then moved from the security room and through the facility to his own car that sat in the secure parking garage. He put his car into drive and sped to the Asylum.

The Scarecrow would be captured tonight. He was certain of it.

He pulled his radio to his lips as he roared pass cars. "Is there an Agent who can get me access to the security feed within Arkham?" he asked.

He pulled the radio away as he waited for an answer.

"No sir," an agent informed, "The system is secure, a person must go inside physically to send the information externally."

Tiffany thought silently for a moment before responding. Arkham Asylum was a large building, and it would be easy for the Scarecrow to slip through the cracks.

He brought the radio back to his lips. "I want control of the security room first," he stated, then pressed his foot harder on the gas running through a red light.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Heather isn't that shocked that her listing didn't get her off the hook. Though she'd done it partly because it would be stupid not to give it a try if there was any slim hope of it working, it was more because she's not in much of a mental state to actively resist pretty much anything. And not responding to a direct question would be a form of intentional resistance.

Yet though the needle is not unexpected, she still yelps from the pain and fear of what it contains. She gives another strong shudder when he lets go of her arm and she clutches it to herself, not really listening to what he says then. Nothing he could say at this point would really matter - what worse could he do to her if he knew she wasn't listening?

Unfortunately for Heather, her current situation is so in line with her deepest fears that she doesn't even get a moment of knowing she's hallucinating as the fear toxin takes what's real away from her. The transition is so seamless that as far as she can tell the toxin does nothing. It merely takes what's real and builds upon it by upping the ante a bit - though the real Scarecrow leaves, the Scarecrow in her mind pauses on his way out when a very distinctive laugh suddenly soars through the air. Because the rogues of Gotham really are one of Heather's deepest fears, but though the Scarecrow is very high on that list, there's someone else who has him beat.

"You've had enough fun with the new toy!" the Joker in her mind declares as he appears at the door to her cell, "It's my turn to play with it." The Scarecrow laughs lightly as he lets the other rogue in, saying, "As you wish." Heather gives a sudden, terrified wail and then the screaming begins. She ends up shifting from being curled up in a ball to lying flat on her back but still in the corner - the ability to run away or fight back is not a feature of her nightmares made real. Her pained screams mix with terrified sobs as her eyes dart around, seeing and hearing things that aren't there.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

The Scarecrow moved through the long hall of the intensive care facility until he was in front of Heather's cell. Taking a few steps forward he wasn't surprised to see her still in the cell. The young Miss Glass had already began to succumb to her greatest fears. For a moment The Scarecrow relaxed and let her screams fill his senses. Taking his time The Scarecrow exhaled slowly and closed his eyes, the feeling was euphoric.

His eyes opened again as he thought about the ways he could torment her with her fears even more so. It was time to change the atmosphere. The Scarecrow took a few more moments to watch her as she shifted to and fro trying to hold onto her sanity as the nightmare began to take her. It was hard to tear himself away from the scene, but he knew that more could be done to heighten the effect.

With the amount that he had given her, taking her size into account, The Scarecrow was aware that she wouldn't battle it well. Now that it was circulating itself well into her system she would most likely stay where she was and panic on the floor. Many subjects that either had smaller doses or fought the toxin would sometimes wander around, but never far. They would attempt to avoid there doom as it plagued them in the waking nightmare.

Finally the Scarecrow pulled himself from her screams of terror and began to head down the hall again. He came to a small series of light switches for the main hall and began to flip them off one by one. The only ones that would remain were the white hot spotlights in each room. With that he walked back through the now darkened hallway to Heather's cell. “The nightmare has barely began...” the distortion of his voice came out from the darkness as he wrapped his hands around the edge of her cell and watched her once again fight her fears.

It had been a long time since he had been able to study someone last. The FBI went to the back of his mind as he was lost in the scene in front of him. He was prepared for their arrival, and he would be informed if they were to show up in the manner that the authorities often did. Van's, Helicopter's, men with there guns pointed at the entrances and exits. It would just be an alarm for the Scarecrow to prepare to be their arbiter for fear and despair.

[tiff]

Tiffany stopped his car in the almost empty parking lot of Arkham Asylum. As he looked up at the Asylum, he naturally gave a face of disgust. He had been in here once since his time in Gotham. It was to speak with the Joker before he was transported. Unfortunately, the man managed to escape the revolving doors of Arkham before Tiffany could get his hands into him. Tiffany was almost certain that this building was cursed. So many good Doctors who wanted to help others had been changed into darkness and evil. The devil had done something to this building, and for that reason, Tiffany did not enjoy ever stepping inside of it.

An high agent came to his side and told him that every one was placed at the entrance and exits. Tiffany nodded. "Good, I want everyone to understand that the primary objective of this mission is to capture Jonathan Crane. The second objective is to save Heather Glass. The goal is find Scarecrow before he can induce the same type panic in other innocent people. No one under any circumstances is allowed to take off their gas mask," Tiffany stated as he pulled down his own over his mouth and nose.

He moved to the main entrance with his men. Some would be left outside, but most would be going in. Tiffany and the five men with him would be going to the security room. The cameras should still be working, and it would keep him one step ahead of this man obsessed with darkness.

It was silent among all men as they entered the darken Asylum. Tiffany maneuvered throw the building based on the floor plans he had studied. It didn't take long to make it to the security room, but more interesting was that it looked like it had been in use by someone else. The Scarecrow was keeping an eye on everything it seemed. It was possible that he already knew of their whereabouts.

"Highly likely the Scarecrow knows we are here. I want everyone to be prepared," he whispered into his com from the gas mask.

He walked over to cameras, and he stopped, surprised for a moment with what he saw.

Heather Glass screaming in utter fear...and the Scarecrow enjoying his victim.