Nothing To Fear..

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

The Scarecrow seemed lost in another world as he watched his victim suffer. It wasn't until the door to the intensive treatment area flew open and a thug came stumbling out that his trance was broken. The thug panted and looked as if something was wrong. The Scarecrow already knew, it was time, the FBI was here. “They're here!” He shouted sounding nearly out of breath “They've taken control of the security room.” the thug continued waiting for The Scarecrow to tell them what do do.

“Go back to your post and tell the others to hold their positions, keep them at bay” The distortion from the mask demanded respect for his orders as the thug understood and ran out. He knew that they wouldn't be enough to hold the FBI, it would only slow them down. In fact the Scarecrow was sure he had just sent him away to his death. But he didn't care, it wasn't about them and their safety. Tonight was about striking fear and terror into the FBI.

Everything was going according to plan so far, Heather was at his mercy, and the FBI was next. Now there was to confront the power behind the operation and bring him to his knees. His gaze went to his left arm that held the rather bulky brace underneath. It would be a last resort.

After the thug had left to run back to his position The Scarecrow uncurled his hands from the edge of Heather's cell. She was no longer captivating his interest, it was time for his next victim. Slowly The Scarecrow turned his head to a small blinking light in the darkness. A camera that he knew they were watching, they could see him next to the bright light coming from Heather's lit cell. His gloved hand rose to the camera and he made a beckoning motion as he stepped into the darkness behind him. The Scarecrow was taunting them, calling them, daring them to walk into his world.

[tiff]

Tiffany's hand tightened onto the counter of the security room as he leaned down and glared at the screen. His eyes turning into slits as the man dressed with a burlap mask taunted them and disappeared into the darkness. Filth always sought comfort in darkness because it hide their flaws from true judgement. The way he disappeared though was slight unsettling. It almost looked like the shadows had consumed him like the devil hugging it's child into embrace. During his time in Gotham, he had faced many of the Gotham rogues that compare more to demon then human, but there felt something darker about this man.

He slowly brought his finger up to his com link in his ear. "Scarecrow located in the Intensive Treatment Center," he stated with a monotone voice as his eyes still stared into the darkness on the screen. "I half of group C, D, and G to head in that director. Everyone else should stay in their position to prevent any possible escape. I want to push this man towards the exit. Agent Keller and Agent Huntsman will stay in the security room and be our eyes and ears in the Asylum. Be prepared with night vision goggles, and do not allow this man to pierce your skin. If a team member is effected with the toxin, they need to be disabled from their weapon immediately. Heather Glass has been left unattended in the Intensive Treatment. The rest of my men will go directly there and take her to a safe spot," he stated one command after another like a grocery list. Tiffany would go to Intensive Treatment with his men. They would retrieve Heather and then two of his men would take her outside the building and get her to the hospital. There was no reason to give Scarecrow a hostage to use as advantage.

"Scarecrow has men working for him. They are to be treated the same as the Scarecrow. Dead or Alive," he finished, then waved the three men with him as the other two stayed behind to get better control of the security room, to either shut and contain areas or open them. They would wait until they spotted the Scarecrow again, before shutting down an area.

Tiffany headed to the Intensive Treatment area. They moved gracefully, but quickly. The men Scarecrow had hired were certainly not as stealthy. There heavy footprints could be heard from around the corner, so they were easily taken out with a bullet towards the leg, and then handcuffed and left to be dealt with later.

They didn't stop moving until right outside Intensive Treatment. "It's still clear, sir," the agents in the security room stated into his ear. He nodded, then used his hand to explain to his men that were moving in. They opened the door to darkness and unknown.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

His needled fingertips shifted slightly on the last support pillar in the middle of the long hallway. They made light scratching sounds against the cold metal. Darkness was all around him, he breathed slowly and went over the exact outline of the room over and over in his mind. He had certainly walked it enough to know where everything was. He knew he was only a short diagonal walk to the upstairs that held more cells. He knew that getting too close to any of the cells would expose him to their fire. He knew that they would come prepared to deal with his toxin. Airborn was not an option, if he was going to find out their fears..he would have to get creative.

The light from the hallway entered and cast shadows along the walls. For now he thought it best to stay where he was until whoever pursued him was further into the room. First he needed to find out how many of them their were, his eyes went to the shadows slowly creeping along the walls, Three? Four? Separated they would be simple to contain, but together they were more of a problem....Unless they were afraid. These men were not the GCPD however, they had different training, different rules. Being aware of The Scarecrows methods they would take every precaution against him.

But they were only human. Manipulation had always been one of his better traits. The Scarecrow pulled his head back and let it rest against the pillar behind him. His eyes closed and he thought for a moment before he would begin. “All who enter this place will find fear and despair...” The distortion from the mask spoke into the air. He wanted to speak directionally to sort of throw his voice in a way. Making it echo off the cold walls of the room. Intimidation would only be the first step, he needed to find out exactly who was in the room with him. Was it him?

The Scarecrow turned his mask to the left and whispered softly through the distortion “Your fears, your nightmares, they have already began...Nothing can stop them now...” A small laugh escaped the mask as he turned his head again to speak now on the right. “Are the shadows on the walls yours? Is your mind playing tricks on you?...Or am I?” The Scarecrow whispered out of the darkness.

They probably felt safe behind their gas masks. But for how long until they began to distrust each other? Or began to distrust the use of their mask. The goal here was to turn them on each other if possible, which would be simple with the use of toxin. The mind however through words would take a bit of convincing. But instilling phobia's in other is what The Scarecrow did best.

For the moment he held his ground waiting for the sound of their footsteps to reach his senses. Only when they were closer would he move. If all else failed there was always his final triumph of fear. He moved his left hand which held the brace and needle in his arm. It would only take one push of a button and they would enter a whole new world of fear. He swallowed and breathed slowly for a moment trying to get the one leading them to speak.

[tiff]

Tiffany stepped into the long hallway that was littered with cells on each side. Yes, he had been here before. He had spoken to the Joker in that very cell. His eyes grazing over it for just a moment. He felt revolted just looking at it, knowing that this was the place that failed to contain their inmates. They were partially responsible for all the terror that flood through Gotham. When he made the decision to shut this place down, he knew it was one of his best. It was only a symbol of failure, and Tiffany hated failure. If he failed, it meant evil had won.

He took slow steps down the hallway, and froze as soon as a voice echoed against the walls. He heard his other men turning in search, pointing their guns randomly at the sounds. Tiffany merely moved his eyes. They had been prepared with information on this man, and a simple trick of sound bouncing off walls would not be enough to deter him from his goal. He pressed his com link, still making cautious steps forward. "Scarecrow still located near the intensive treatment center," he stated quietly. More of his men would soon flock here. Then hopefully they could trap the man.

The mention of shadows did catch Tiffany's attention as he moved from one cell to the next, pointing his gun inside. To him shadows always moved and crawled on the surface of the Earth looking for their next victim to drag into doom. At the mention of shadows, he found himself focusing more on the strange movements of them then on the cells. Darkness....man could defeat it, for man had been given electricity.

For his benefit, he was distracted away from darkness when he heard female panic. His eyes sharpened, and he waved his men forward. They moved with a slow jog, guns pointed to the darkness ready for whatever Scarecrow was plotting. They didn't stop until Tiffany slammed to a halt in front of a cell, where the young woman seemed in complete horror.

Her screams certainly did not destroy the ominous feelings of the the empty building. They made it so much worst. Tiffany kept himself cold to such a feeling though by stating a simple statement. "Miss Glass, we are part of the FBI. We are here to help you? Are you alright?"

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Heather's screams are slowly growing weaker, but that's not at all due to any weakening of the drug in her system. It's because any set of vocal cords become exhausted and weak when overused. The horrors in her own mind are making her mostly blind and deaf to reality - though some part of her mind hears and understands that the FBI have arrived, there's no sign that she did. If the FBI could do so little to help her when it was merely the Scarecrow saying that they'd meet again, how can they do anything at all against what she's facing now?

Besides, if some of the rumors she's heard are true then the FBI aren't much better than the people that they catch - and the fear toxin still flowing through her system is all too happy to insist that the rumors are not only true, but they're actually the tip of the iceberg. No, she's not about to draw any comfort from Agent Tiff's reassurances in her present state of mind. Even the small part of her mind that can still think rationally is skeptical about just how much safer she is right now.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

The Scarecrow listened carefully to the men walking into his world. One of the agents was saying something but he couldn't quite make it out from his position. They were being very careful...Scared? He breathed slowly and quietly, for the moment saying nothing more. Something didn't feel right. They were taking too much time to find him.

Hearing a voice come out of one of the cells The Scarecrow leaned in that direction, careful to stay within the boundary of the wall. They were talking to Miss Glass. He smiled from within the darkness of his mask. She was beyond their help now, after she recovered from the toxin there would be nothing left for her. She would be just another victim. Getting over this event wouldn't be an easy or short road. He knew it all too well, if he was lucky she may have even developed a phobia or two.

His plans were changing slowly. There was doors in front of him, and the doors that the Agents had come in. Standing in front of the doors didn't seem like the best spot anymore.The Agents would probably have more men entering the building attempting to trap him. He would not be trapped in this room. The intensive treatment cells were located in the middle of the building. Not a good escape plan.

But he wasn't focused on escape, he was focused on their fears. One things was certain, the room he was in had to change. Any moment they would be flying into the doors throwing on the lights and he would be exposed in this room. He believed now that the one called Agent Tiffany was in the room with him. There was only one problem, he had help and more help was probably on the way. His plans were clear, he needed to get this man alone.

The Scarecrows left hand with the bulky brace around it went into his suit pocket and pulled out a small grey cylinder. Turning the top would cause it to release his toxin in it's gas form seconds afterward. All of these men probably had gas masks on but that wasn't the goal. The goal was to isolate the leader. While they dealt with the immediate safety of Miss Glass. He could make his move to provoke Agent Tiff. Slowly he took advantage of their bafflement of Miss Glass.

The Scarecrow moved in the shadows, the outlines of his mask crawling around the walls as he passed each cell approaching them. Only being steps away he peered out from the darkness and turned the top of the cylinder. He threw it into the room at their feet and stepped out of the darkness only long enough for them to turn around. “Scared you..didn't I?” He couldn't help himself. Now that he had their attention there was only one thing left to do to eventually isolate their leader.

Turning from them he let the darkness take him once more as he made a break for the door towards the back of the room, opposite the one the Agents came in. It was further into the Asylum. He hoped that for the few moments it took for him to reach the door, the darkness was enough to not make them fire into the dark. His position was given away again by a tackle force to the back doors. Something inside him hoped that Agent Tiffany would be on his heels, anything else would almost be insulting.

He fled down the hallway as fast as his feet could carry him. Knowing he was passing many security cameras. But he wanted them to follow him. If he was going to be surrounded it would be on his terms not theirs. He made his first right and continued through the processing corridor. The FBI may have been here before, but he had worked and lived here. The Asylum was second nature to him. He made another hard right but slid to the side and changed it to a left seeing agents coming from that corridor. He knew another way around.

He darted into a room on the immediate right and ran through the office careful not to trip or bump into anything. The Scarecrow tackled yet another door that opened up into another hallway. After taking another right he made a break for the double doors. He was heading to the Secure Treatment Transfer. He didn't look behind him to see if Tiff was on his heels, to do so would mean he couldn't get through the doors. The last thing he wanted was a gun directly to his back. The situation would seem odd to most, he ran to a dead end. A large room with a small security gate to the right, a large what looks like bottomless pit over a rail, and a huge security door in the back which happened to be open. It was completely dark inside, but he wouldn't be able to make it to the other side without the use of the crane below. He ran to the rail and looked down.

His breathing slowed, he made no attempt to move from his position or hide in the darkness.

[tiff]

Tiffany looked over Miss. Glass. Her focus didn't seem entirely on them and based off her expression she could tell the young woman had not been having a pleasant experience. She looked frightened, and the thought didn't settle comfortably in the pit of his stomach. Only a man of sin could get pleasure from seeing such an innocent person in torture. He frowned. Tiffany could be very comforting to his wife, his friends, and children, but when he was on the job any set of soft emotions were lost to him. He couldn't pull himself out of his cold focus he held. "Miss Glass, you were attacked by the Scarecrow," he stated the obvious, not knowing what else to state but facts, "My men here will get you to safety and to the hospital. We are already working on an antidote. I apologize that we were not able to handle this situation earlier."

A small part of him did feel bad that Miss Glass was going through this, but another part recognized it as an important sacrifice that had to be made. He understood that the citizens of Gotham had taken the blunt of the sacrifices, but they would eventually have the award of safety and comfort like his hometown in Texas had. In Texas, everyone understood that you gave no mercy to criminals. If they understood the consequences no man would step out of line. It was one of the reasons he missed his home state, but he wanted to bring that happiness here as well. Everyone deserved happiness and not fearing for their lives.

Before he could order his men to get Miss Glass, a sound echoed off the floor. All men looked down to see smoke escaping and quickly feeling the room. A dark voice spoke from behind them and all stiffened. Scarecrow was attempting to frighten them. It was expected from his MO. Tiffany cocked his gun before lifting it to the air and pointing it in the direction he had heard the sound. The only way this man was escaping the Asylum would be in handcuffs, but the next sound that echoed in the room was the sound of doors slamming open. Tiffany took a step forward.

"Sir, the girl," one of his agents stated. Tiffany frowned for a second. To take down a man who had a talent of hiding he would need men with him, but leaving Miss Glass would be unprofessional. He struggled with the decision longer then he would like to admit. It was a conflicting thought between two rules, and all rules were meant to be followed.

"The two of you will take her out of the building," he finally stated before bolting into a run. He was already farther behind the man then he would like. He pressed his com link in his ear as he ran with his gun at the side. "I want groups of unit C, D, and G heading in Scarecrow's direction, now." He ran out of Intensive Treatment, gas seeping from the room as the doors flew open.

He ran down the hallway trying to catch up to the Scarecrow. "Sir, it appears he's heading to the Treatment Transfer," his men in the security room stated, "Where are you waiting for back up?"

"Can escape?" he asked as he continued to run and make the necessary turns to get there.

"Unlikely sir, but it is of course possible," the agent responded. Tiffany did not like the sound of that. He had noticed with the criminals of this city is that they always found away through the loop hole. It was his job to show them that rules have no loop holes.

"Back up meets me where the Scarecrow is," he stated, understanding the risk of going alone. It might be a risk, but he also had the greatest strength on his side. He had faith, and for that reason, he would not be failing.

"Sir?" the agent in the security room sounded uncertain, but knew better then to question, "Understood, the units should be there in ten,"

Tiffany pulled his hand away from the com and stretched his legs into a sprint. He thought he caught a glance of the Scarecrow as he rounded the corner and he fired a shot without warning. The FBI did not warn anymore. The missed and hit the wall. He continued running and rounded the corner just in time to see the Scarecrow run through large doors. Tiffany had studied the floor plan. The room in most ways was a dead end, but he knew the Scarecrow had something plan. He would not run their on accident.

He ran through the door, and as soon as he entered and saw Scarecrow standing there. Scarecrow had already made his intention clear when he dropped the gas into the room. For that reason, he lost all chance to explain himself.

He fired.

No warnings. Ever.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

The few moments he had to himself were surreal. Th rush of the situation filled his body with adrenalin, he was ready for him. He stared into the darkness of the pit bracing himself for what he was going to do. Are you scared? He asked himself. His hands loosened from the rail and he breathed in deeply. No, he was afraid of nothing, he was The Scarecrow.

The needle that lay await in his arm tucked tightly into the mechanical brace taunted him. He had to be very calculated about his next few moves. Pressing it to early or too late would ruin everything he had worked for. He had never used it on himself, but he knew it would work. It had to work, his creation was flawless in his eyes. All would know and fear him..

His plans could change at any moment, he was prepared for this. This scene only had a few outcomes, he was either leaving with them...or making his own exit. He tried to steady his breathing the Agent was only moments behind him he was sure.

He looked up from the darkness that he stared into as he heard the doors open. His legs went loose his body fell backwards and his feet slid slightly to the sides. He was performing a backwards roll for his art. The sound of the gun made the Scarecrows eyes widen for a moment. He didn't feel the pain immediately, he wasn't even sure if it hit or missed at first. But he knew that a shot had been fired. This man was an executioner. Flipping over and coming back to his feet only took seconds, but something different happened. Instead of being upright he fell to his knees and grabbed his shoulder. The bullet had hit his shoulder in the middle of his drop. The wound was high and close to his neck. He was bleeding profusely but the adrenalin kept his heart racing and his nerves moving.

The pain made him twitch some moving his now bloodied hands above his head. A clear submission tactic to the Agent. He was closer to Agent Tiff than before, surely a shot at the heart wouldn't miss this time. It was only moments but everyone second seemed to be like a minute to The Scarecrow. He was savoring it, taking it in. His hands crossed over each other on his head, as the normal position would be to submit to handcuffs. It wouldn't be the first time...It was an unpleasant thought.

His fingers stopped at the edge of his wrists pressing the sensitive button to his brace tucked under his sleeve. He didn't make another move, he waited for what possibly might be the end. He had heard about this man and his methods. “When faced with mercy...Do you fear the hand of God?” The distortion from his mask spoke softly as the brace went to work. It was slowly pushing the top of the needle down. His eyes dilated, he began to feel different. His heart was racing, his head began to pound. The pain from his shoulder seemed to melt away even though blood was running down both sides of his front and back from the movement with his arms. His eye's closed, ready to become fear, or face Oblivion.

[tiff]

Tiffany watched as the man attempted some type of fighting move and rolled backwards right as he had fired the bullet. Unfortunately, his shot didn't go through this vermin's heart, not that something so evil had a heart. It did however still hit the man, and Tiffany felt proud as he watched the man go to his knees and the blood that was exposing close to his shoulder. Tiffany didn't show this emotion. He kept his face cold and collective as he waited for this man's next move. He was ready to fire his gun and put a bullet through the man's head if he pulled anything else.

He was somewhat surprised when the man didn't move, but instead brought his hands to the air in an act of surrender. Tiffany was highly suspicious. He had faced many of the sinful people in Gotham, and none of the criminals had given up so easily. Tiffany had to break them before they ever gave in. He kept his gun pointed at the man's head. Scarecrow was closer to him then before, but still a comfortable distance away that he couldn't randomly kick or punch him. Tiffany planned to kept that distance.

"Unit G almost to your location sir," a voice in his ear informed. Tiffany didn't respond to the message, but it confirmed what he planned to do. He would keep this sinful being in place until back up arrived. Scarecrow might be offering his chance to surrender, but Tiffany was almost certain that as soon as he put down the gun the man would make his next move. He couldn't see what was going on with the Scarecrow's hands, but he did like that they stayed behind his head.

Scarecrow's words sounded dark and horse like a taunting whisper in darkness. The words caused him to stiffen. He knew his religious background was starting to become known through the underworld, but no criminal had yet to bring it up in confrontation. The question was also highly absurd. Fear the Lord. How could he fear such a powerful and protective being? He trusted God and God's plans for him. He was almighty and knew what was right. Tiffany would never question the Lord's actions.

"The protective arms of the Lord are never frightening," he stated as he kept his gun aimed on the Scarecrow's head.

"Jonathan Crane, you are under arrest by the Federal Government for the murder and havoc you have brought upon Gotham City," he went straight back to business, "You will stay in that position until you are ordered otherwise. If you move, you will be shot." It was not a threat nor a warning. Tiffany was given him the facts of the situation. The Scarecrow could take them any way he wished too.

[grimknight]

Activity from Arkham Asylum had been detected on the signals of the batcave’s super computer. Someone had infiltrated the newly abandoned facility and had begun to access power off grid from a remote generator. It would’ve been missed by the GCPD’s detection resources, but not missed by the Bat’s surveillance, and unfortunately not missed by the FBI’s watch either. Upon monitoring the old asylum, Batman was able to use his own hack into the FBI’s communications and now gained access from their given approximate location and point of entry. They were dealing with a newly surfaced Dr. Jonathon Crane, aka, Scarecrow – an obsessive compulsive with neurosis specializing in the fundamentals of fear and all psychosis dealing with all said phobias.

Simply put?

A psychotic maniac with the intelligence level with that of a highly skilled psychiatrist. Aptly skilled psychiatrist given he once worked as one for Arkham itself, years ago. Crane was dangerous, but so were the Feds – both for different and disturbing reasons the Bat bristled over when thought about. Then there was the victim, Heather Glass – a radiobroadcaster (with a few choice opinions about the Dark Knight and his M.O. or lack thereof) who still needed rescuing not just from Scarecrow but from the Feds, and more specifically, from Agent Tiffany, despite her anti-Bat muck slinging broadcasts. Didn’t Tiffany know the fear toxin will eventually create a permanent state of fear induced neurosis if no anti-biotic is administered!? The Bat had personally given access to the specially created anti-biotic to the GCPD which he knew the Feds seized control of and had access to as well. Why the Feds didn’t even bring syringes filled with the cure to administer to Scarecrow’s victims (in this case, victim) or to even administer to themselves was beyond the Bat. The Dark Knight had to step in.

The Bat Wing launched out of the batcave’s confines, taking off into Gotham’s dreary dark night. Soon enough the bat-shaped hover jet arrived before the gnarled cliffs of Arkham island, just off Gotham’s coast line. Utilizing his upper hand of having full access to the Federal Agents’ digital communications and radio waves, he snuck his way in—being so stealthy even Catwoman would offer up a purr of approval. He reached the Intensive Care unit using the ventilation system and with his heavily armed utility belt, Batman spied Heather Glass being taken from the padded cell by two agents. Getting her to the hospital was the right step, but without some form of anti-biotic to combat the toxin the repercussions of being under such neurosis could prove to be devastating. He quickly loaded his dart gun and placed a silencer on it. SHOOP! A careful aim was taken through the vent shaft and a shot was fired into the thick of Heather Glass’ left thigh. Seeing the dart hit its mark put the Bat at ease, he could only hope the Federal Agents would continue en route to the hospital without having noticed the dart to slow down the progress of saving Scarecrow’s victim.

He moved down a vent shaft and caught sight of the backup making their way through the halls towards Agent Tiffany’s location. That’s where the Bat decided to drop down behind them with a smoke bomb in hand. The plume of thick grey-blue gas sent the men coughing and gagging, obstructing their view as he silently took each one out of consciousness. Now it was down to Agent Tiffany, Dr. Crane, and the Bat—odds the Dark Knight liked much better. From beyond the darkness of the rail, behind Scarecrow and before Agent Tiffany’s hazy gaze, up rose the dark winged shadow of the Bat. Careful measures to inoculate himself from the fear toxin’s affects had been taken, giving Batman an immunity to the fear gas that now clouded the room both criminal and agent occupied. The Bat seemed to hover like some mythical being above Scarecrow only to land before Agent Tiffany, his scowl as unmistakable as the stoic rage that seethed from his inky armored form.

"The protective arms of the Lord are never frightening,"

“What about my arms?”

No sooner had the sharp growl of words left him when a swift kick was suddenly delivered full force to Tiffany’s face – hard enough to knock him from balance, possibly hard enough to knock him unconscious, if the hit was made...

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

His eyes closed, his body began to pulse. The needle was done pushing all the way down on the syringe. It was in his system, now it just needed a few moments to take effect. This moment however, was his triumph over the FBI, his triumph over Gotham and it's laws and rules. The rules of society, the rules of the government, the rules of those sadly mistaken souls that stripped him of his life. Now he couldn't be stopped, and he would show them what fear was. Who fear was...

He heard Agent Tiff try to defend his faith. It was unfortunate that his faith wouldn't save him now, nothing could. “ You fear the judgment of your God..” The distortion from the mask laughed out. The Agent began to speak again saying all too familiar words. His hands began to shake slightly though he tried to keep them under control as he spoke. Wouldn't want to get shot prematurely. The Irony that this man held so tightly to his god. There was only one reason men turned to god...fear...

Since the very first moment he had thought of this new toxin. Under a very compromising situation, he had dedicated almost all of his time to working on it. When the FBI came into the city he had to hide himself and his research but it only gave him more time to focus on it. Testing it became harder and he always refrained from testing it on himself. Until now...

Using it was a last resort in this case but Agent Tiff had given him no choice. He proved that the Agent was an executioner, not interested in the well being of others if they didn't stay within the boundaries of what he considered to be law. Breathing suddenly became difficult. The Scarecrow coughed and took a few quick inhales. He could feel it surging between his veins, changing his DNA.

His eyes widened and his hands quickly removed from his head as he heard an all too familiar voice followed by a large thud. Can it be? He knew he was bleeding more with each movement from his shoulder but the changes going on his his body were far too distracting for any amount of pain to stop him. His left hand fell to the ground to catch his weight. The coughing began again. For a moment he thought he may just cough up traces of his own blood. Recovery from this would be long. He had studied it's effects very carefully though, he would make a recovery. Eventually he hoped he would be able to make it happen upon will, but that was another method of testing and research all together.

The smoke became thick around him and he turned around to face Tiff and that unmistakeable voice that had bellowed from behind him moments ago. The Batman was here, had he come to save Tiff or Miss Glass? A noble cause yet it would be in vain. “The Batman...” The distortion coughed out through the mask. He held his chest and moved around on the ground like something was trying to rip his body apart from the inside. “You're too late...” A dark laughter came out from the smoke.

Both his his hands slammed to the floor. The Scarecrow closed his eyes tightly This was the one moment he had been working for, the one moment that now was made perfect by the presence of his old nemesis. Their demise in this would be his glory and his example to the rest of the world what fear really is. Who fear really is!

“All Will Fear The Scarebeast!!” He shouted out into the smoke lifting his hand from the ground and arching his back leaving his hands in the air at his sides. His body grew his skin began to turn color and then change it's shape. His mask ripped from his face and fell to the ground. His limbs seem to double in size as he became the dark arbiter of fear. The beast he had become was massive standing about about 10 feet hunched over like he was. His face had formed into that a of a beasts needled like straw shooting out of every area that use to be skin. The tail he had grown was long and reached to the front of his body. It had a large spike at the end which flew open and shut a few times.

The Scarebeast held his weight for a moment His long snout taking a few deep breaths getting the scent of the room. His maw turned agape showing his sharp teeth. A drool came from his maw and pooled underneath him on the floor that left a steam as it hit the ground. It was toxic.

Through the some the Scarebeast threw his head back and let out a powerful roar. Meant to invoke his prey with fear before him. If they couldn't see him through the smoke now they would still be able to hear him.

“SCREAM!!!!”

His massive claws swiped through the smoke trying to find his foes. Agent Tiffany and Batman would tremble in fear at his creation.

(( Concept of the Scarebeast: pictures.fanart-central.net/d/DC_wyverx/399277.jpg ))

[tiff]

Tiffany didn't have much time to think before smoke filled the room and a dark voice responded to his statement. A mere second later utter pain exploded on his face. He fell back, loosing grip of his gun in the fall. During his time in Gotham not once had criminal manage to actually strike a hit on him. With the ringing in his ears, he couldn't remember if the Question had managed such a move, but he remembered containing the man fairly quickly after his vehicle had been hit. No, he had never taken such a blunt hit to the face because the Lord had always watched over him.

He was on the ground, his hand moving to his face soon after. His nose was broken, and his vision was fogging. There was a large possibility he would be losing consciousness soon. His eyes tried to find what had attacked him. He knew it wasn't the Scarecrow. He had kept a close eye on the man. No, it was someone, something else.

His eyes looked up through the smoke and he saw a dark figure. It looked like the devil had just parted from the ground. That must have been the creature that had attacked him. He looked like the very shadows Tiffany imagined trapping people in darkness. God was testing him now. He needed to get up and take this thing down before the Scarecrow could escape. He rolled over on his side. His head ringing with pain.

Batman.

He heard the Scarecrow announce.

The Batman. This was the Batman? Tiffany had never met the devil that had plagued this city with vermin. His men had chased after him all this time, but he kept hidden in the shadows like the evil thing he was. Now, he stood right in front of him. God certainly was testing him tonight, but he would rise to the challenge and bring both demons in. The very fact that the Batman had attacked Tiffany to protect someone like the Scarecrow only proved what side of the law he stood on.

His eyes found his gun on the floor, and he crawled for it. The Scarecrow was ranting nonsense, and making strange sounds. His focus wasn't on that weak man at the moment.

"Sir, are you okay?" an agent said into his ear, "Unit G is down. Unit G is down."

What was happening? He knew Arkham Ayslum was tainted with the underworld, but he never expected it to disrupt them so quickly.

"Batman is here," he muttered. His gas mask was broken, but luckily he did have another on his side. He quickly ripped off the one he has now and threw it to the ground. He felt the blood on his chin, but ignored it as he threw on his other mask.

"Batman?" the agent on the other end.

"Yes, I want the half of the units outside to move to the Secure Transfer Center. I also want men on the roof to be prepared. He will probably try to escape from above," he stated as he secured his mask. He then continued to his gun. He grabbed it.

"Sir, do you see that! Turn around sir!"

Tiffany had muted out the screaming from the mad man. He didn't have time to focus on nonsense. It wasn't until the agent was screaming in his ear did he look up to see....a monster. It was huge, and luckily, he was already on the ground when the claw swiped into the air. The smoke was not helping. He did not have the visible sight he needed. Of course, he could blame that fact on the Batman.

Tiffany gritted his teeth, and pointed the gun up in the air. The beast seemed to be above the smoke, so he could still see those gruesome red eyes. The Batman was no longer his prime concern. He aimed and fired at the things eyes. Blind it. It was the best option at this point.

[grimknight]

Satisfaction flowed through the Bat over the harsh kick he gave to Agent Matthew Tiffany. Essentially, both the government agent and the vigilante were fighting the same war on crime; though both figures fought their battles with very different philosophies, morals, and ethics. They were not on the same side, the FBI Agent and the Caped Crusader; never-the-less here they were battling the antics of a mad man. A God fearing, trigger happy, self-righteous, sociopathic government agent, an obsessive, questionably moral, self-appointed costumed and masked vigilante, and a denounced psychiatrist-turned-psychotic criminal villain – question being: who of the three was considered as the “mad” one?

The Bat caught sight of a second, unknown back unit now pooling into the containment room, each of the arriving agents armed with guns. His bat-suit’s computer system took quick calibration of how many men with firearms were now present and a quick boost of power was given to his armor. His armor now put off an undetectable frequency of supersonic sound vibrations, powerful enough to help divert oncoming bullets or even shatter them should they become lodged in a more vulnerable area of the suit. It wasn’t 100% death proof, but the bat-suit was as close as it got. He was about to pull his patented lightning strike of a move when it came to slapping his specialized cuffs onto a perpetrator (or Agent Tiffany, in this case) when he heard the gnarled scratchy voice from the Scarecrow behind him.

Scarebeast? What the hell was that?

Suddenly, the air density of the smoke from the smoke bomb the Bat had set off swirled violently with an oncoming swipe from massively huge, razor sharp claws. The Bat leapt to the side, just as the swipe of claws came, being narrowly missed by inches! He caught himself in a tumble, batarangs now gripped tightly within his gloved hand. It was then the Bat spotted the monstrous genetic behemoth mutation Dr. Jonathon Crane had apparently just transformed himself into… Ah, so that’s what a Scarebeast was.

Lovely.

Seeing Agent Tiffany turn his attention from the Bat to the beast that once was Crane, Batman interpreted Tiffany’s focus on the monster as a decision for Tiffany and his men to battle the lesser of two evils. For now, Batman and the FBI Agents had bigger fish to fry rather than their own personal vendetta with one another – said fish being the newly formed Scarebeast. Ironically, the Bat’s thoughts had been on the same par as Tiffany’s – blind the beast! A batarang was launched from his grip, thrown with precision right at the Scarebeast’s monstrous blood red gaze. The other two batarangs were thrown with intent to purposely miss Crane, wedging into the sides of the wall on either side of him. The Bat then took hold of his grapple gun and launched it up towards the ventilation air duct system above the circus freak show going on below.

The batarang swiveling right towards Crane’s mutated face suddenly detonated in a blinding flash of white light that resonated heavily throughout the room. The magnitude of the wattage wouldn’t just blind the beast; it’d blind anyone who wasn’t equipped with any sort of UV ray protection (unlike the Bat with his protective lenses) over their eyes. In the split second it took for the destructive blinding flash of light to blast out, the Bat had shot up silently into the smoky air using the speed of the retracting grapple line, and now arched himself towards Crane – a sharp and well-aimed booted kick heading directly for the monster’s fanged face…

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

The screams from the other agents filled the beasts ears.His triumph here would forever scar the face of Gotham's protectors. A deep growl came from within The Scarebeast as he stared down at the figured in front of him in the smoke. Agent Tiffany seemed so feeble from this position. Batman had already clearly hurt him. He had seen that stance before. He was going to fire. Without another moment to think about his fore-claws lifted to shield himself the bullet shaving off many pieces of sharply pointed straw.

Bravery, in the face of fear? It was absurd, oblivion had come for them, fear had come for them and one man thinks that his little weapon will stop it? Oblivion had come for Agent Tiffany. The Scarebeast slid one foot forward moving towards Agent Tiffany. The saliva from the beasts mouth dripped through his teeth and hit the ground in front of him. Something about the way it pooled and steamed on the ground said that it wouldn't be good to touch the skin.

His tail swept the ground once before lifting it in an intimidating fashion towards the enemy in front of him. The spike at the end of it jabbed towards Agent Tiff several times on either side of the man. He was trying to scare him, to put fear into the mans eyes. Killing him would be worthless without terror being the very last emotion he ever feels.

He lifted his fore-claw in an attempt to grab at Agent Tiffany but it was disrupted by a batarang, followed by a blinding fash of light. The Scarebeast flew his claws up to shield his eyes in frustration. He took several steps back from Tiffany in the process trying to regain his sight. The beast blinked a few times, all he could see was darkness. The flash had been much too bright for his original ability to see. One of the flaws of his creation was his poor eyesight in general. To make up for it the beast had an incredible sense of smell.

In the midst of trying to collect himself. He was taken by surprise a hard kick to the snout. The impact staggered the beast yet again and caused him to gruff and wince at the pain. As a reflex the beast threw his fore-arm up and to the side attempting to throw the Batman away from him. It would take more than a kick to the face to bring down The Scarebeast.

"Succumb to fear!!!" The dark voice roared from within his massive presence. His focus was back on Agent Tiffany. The Batman wanted him to be distracted from him, he knew it. Nothing, not even The Batman would stop him from getting to Agent Tiffany. He would see the man crumble in terror in front of him before this was over. Escape was not even a thought in his mind at this point, though he could have easily made an exit for himself. No, he wasn't leaving without the satisfaction of fear. Not with them, not by himself, not to oblivion.

Now knowing what target he was after The Scarebeast charged to Agent Tiffany's direction...

[Deleted]

OOC: Love you Crane!

Ever since Croc had left Crane, he had remained out of sight beneath the water, slowly monitoring his shoulder, which was healing with uncanny speed, thanks to Crane. For some strange reason, Croc had found himself on Arkham, accessing it from the water, obviously. No pain kept him from using his arm now. Nothing would hold him back. Since he had left his rescuer, Crane, Croc has been devising a deadly plan for Batman. The only problem was that Croc wasn't good with plans. He ended up just tracking the vigilante and crushing him with whatever he had. A rock would suffice.

Sniffing, Croc suddenly became aware of the commotion above at the asylum. Curious, Croc had soon caught the scent of both Crane and Batman. Since then, it had all been a matter of brute force. Croc had smashed through agents of all kinds, killing about six and injuring several more. Entering the facility had been easy, now was just a matter of following his nose and ears.

Crane was easy to track, unlike Batman, so he followed Crane's scent instead and steadily made his way toward the sound of combat, the hall suddenly lighting up brightly. Croc was forced to divert his eyes, but he was well enough away for it not ti harm him. The man-beast hurried toward the room and stopped at the entrance, staring at a demon from hell that strangely carried the scent of Crane.

The Scarebeast wasn't the only one inhabiting the room either. Both Batman and Tiffany had engaged the beast. Croc looked at them and wondered if he should attack, but The Scarebeast was intimidating. Even more so then Batman. For some odd reason, despite Crane's help, Croc felt the need to establish dominance over this fellow monster.

With a mighty roar he surged forward and slammed into the Scarebeast, using all his weight to pin the massive beast to the back wall as he tackled his new foe, claws slicing into Scarebeast's thick side. Two massive creatures tussling around with Batman and Tiffany, it would be a glorious fight. The best thing was there was no shoulder smashing crane here, just the four opposing humanoids all going at each others throat.