The Origin of the Scarecrow

(My Version)

By Dalton Stewart

12 years ago

Jonathon Crane sat on his bed, his eyes closed in thought. His hands shook. Could he really follow through with his plan, could he really kill those boys? Sure, he had killed his grandmother when he was ten, but that was years ago, and it had technically been an accident. Jon shuddered, remembering that day.

Jonathon's grandmother had locked him in a barn with hundreds of crows, she had expected them to peck him to death, or at least nearly so. Quite the opposite had happened, however. Even though Jonathon cowered in fear, the crows never attacked, they didn't peck him once. So there he sat in the barn, the crows gathered around him. He talked to them, confided in them about how his grandmother constantly abused him. Jon knew it was crazy, but somehow he thought they actually understood him, actually cared.

Hours later Jonathon's grandmother opened the barn. The moment she did, the crows burst forth from around Jonathon and attacked her. Within moments, she was dead, and Jon was glad. He had hated that old hag.

Jonathon was jolted from his thoughts by a rock hitting his window. He stood, looking down at the street below. There stood three boys. It was them! The assholes that tormented him every day. It was now or never, and Jonathon knew it.

Jonathon pulled the burlap sack over his head and looked in a mirror, he smiled beneath his mask. He was no longer meek, shy Johnny Crane. No, he was The Scarecrow, someone to truly be feared. At least, he was for tonight. He grabbed a sickle from his nightstand and felt the edge to make sure it was still sharp. He was jolted again by another rock hitting his window. He jumped, accidently slicing his fingertip.

"Damn it…" Jon muttered as he grabbed a bandage and put it on his finger.

A little cut wouldn't stop him tonight; it just pissed him off even more. Jonathon opened his window and shouted down at the bullies.

"Come and get me you insignificant worms!" he shouted before slamming the window shut and hiding.

The bullies instantly rushed in and spread out, trying to find where he was hiding. One boy, Alex, ran upstairs; the other two searched the downstairs.

Alex heard a small creaking sound, before hearing a deep, disturbing voice that sounded nothing like the timid little freak they were hunting.

"One two, Scarecrow's coming for you…" The voice whispered in a sing-song tone.

The two boys downstairs heard Alex scream. They ran to the base of the stairs. They got there just in time to see Alex's head bounce down the stairs to meet them.

"Sorry boys…" That strange eerie voice droned on "Time's up!"

The two boys ran up the stairs, scared, but also determined to kick Jon's ass. Alex was their friend, and they wanted revenge. But, scarecrow knew that, in fact, he was counting on it.

They didn't notice the strange gas drifting through the entirety of the upstairs of the house. As they breathed more and more of the gas, the room distorted, growing darker. The Scarecrow walked into the hallway slowly, the boys cowered in fear. His gas was working. He grinned, raising his sickle before bringing it down into Conner's skull. The sickle got stuck in the bone and The Scarecrow had to kick Conner in the back of the head repeatedly to pry it loose, it felt good, this was the revenge he had only dreamed of until now.

"You're the only one left Brad… Time to die." The Scarecrow laughed maniacally.

"Please no!" Brad whimpered, "Please don't kill me! I'll do anything!"

"Oh but Brad, doing anything you wanted to me is what got you here!"

The Scarecrow grabbed Brad by his hair and slit his throat with the sickle.

It was finally done; The Scarecrow slumped to the floor and laughed. He couldn't stop laughing, but soon, his laughter turned into tears. He pulled off his mask, He was no longer The Scarecrow, He was just Jon. Normal, timid, meek Jon, the guy everybody used as a doormat. But, for however short a time; he was The Scarecrow, strong and powerful, and feared. Fear, it was so amazing. The boys who had tormented him for years, in their final moments they had feared him, feared freaky Jonathon Crane. He wanted to know why, he had to know, and that would become his life's work.

In the years that followed, Jonathon Crane was put under heavy psychiatric treatment, but he stuck to his story that it was all in self-defense, no one could prove otherwise, and he was determined to be completely sane. Jon then went on to study psychology in college, becoming one of the most prominent men in the field.

5 Years ago

Jonathon sat at his desk in Arkham Asylum, going through his paperwork. There was a knock on his door.

"Come in." Jon said, adjusting his glasses.

Doctor Harleen Quinzel walked into the office. Of all Jonathon's colleagues, she was the only one he truly cared about

"Jon, do you have the report on patient 4479?" She asked, cheerful as ever.

"Uh yeah, I think I have it somewhere around here, why?" Jon replied, unable to stop himself from smiling softly.

"Oh, well, he was recently assigned to me, so I figure I should review his file first."

Jon nodded and started searching through his filing cabinet.

"Ah, here it is," Jon said, pulling out the file and handing it to her "Now, be careful around him Harleen, he's dangerous and unpredictable."

Harleen giggled softly, flipping through the file "Oh relax Jon, how bad can this Joker guy be?"

The months passed, and Harleen slowly found out just how horrible the Joker could be. However, the more horrible the Joker became, the less she cared. She was becoming obsessed with him.

Jon walked to his car in the parking garage. As he did, for the first time in weeks, he saw Harleen.

What the hell? Jon thought, She dyed her hair blond…

Harleen smiled when she saw Jon.

"Hey Jon!" She yelled, somehow more cheery than ever.

Jon sighed, they had been growing further and further apart since Harleen had started treating patient 4479.

"Uh, hey…" Jon said awkwardly. "What's up?"

"Not much, just mountains of paperwork as usual."

"Oh, well things have been great with Mr. J. Um… I mean patient 4479."

"That's good. Um… I know this is kind of sudden, but would you perhaps like to have dinner with me Harleen...?" Jon bit his lip.

Harleen blushed a bit.

"Jon…" Harleen sighed "You're a really sweet guy, but no, you're more like an older brother to me they boyfriend material."

"So… no?"

Jon's eyes narrowed. His mental stability had been hanging on the edge ever since that day with the bullies, and this was the final straw. The person he cared about most, the only woman he had ever had feelings for, had rejected him. With that last bit of humanity ripped away from him, he became cold, distant.

He nodded.

"Ok Harleen…" He said calmly "See you later then."

He drove out of the parking garage and to his home. Jon had thought the Scarecrow was gone, but it wasn't, it dug at the back of his mind. He wanted that power again, he wanted people to fear him, and soon they would.

Jon became a recluse, going to work in the morning and coming straight home afterwards. Reports of Arkham inmates experiencing crippling fear surfaced more and more frequently, but the guards were quick to warn the prisoners that these were just rumors.