The Great Scarecrow Escape

Scarecrow's POV

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman

Darkness spread across the land as night time fell, ending another nightmarish day in Arkham Asylum. Everyone was sound asleep and only guards remained while doctors went home to rest up. Not a peep was heard from neither guard nor inmate, it was complete silence except for one cell. Jonathan Crane aka the Scarecrow lay awake, waiting for the right moment.

"Just a bit longer," he thought to himself, "than I'll go and finally be free."

He lay in his bed for 5 more minutes before deciding to go with his plan. The shackles on his wrists and ankles dug into his skin as he tried to slip free. Tugging harder, he eventually was able to painfully pull free do to his skinny arms. Scarecrow had to escape otherwise he'd be at the mercy of the new chief of security, Lyle Bolton. Bolton was a complete menace. Day and night, he'd terrorize the inmates. From beatings to threats, Bolton had everyone under his control using any method in the book except kindness. The guy was so terrifying that even the guards would refuse to help the inmates.

Once free, Scarecrow felt around the walls under his bed and sure enough the little cavity of space he'd built was there. A month ago, before Lyle Bolton's employment, the Mad Hatter had caused chaos at Arkham, taking control of everyone. After managing to slip a mind controlling chip into one of the rookie guard's hats, Jervis was able to get him to place other chips in the other staff members. While the Hatter's reign in the asylum was thwarted by Batman pretty quickly, Scarecrow decided to use his free time to gather a bag of supplies just in case of an emergency jailbreak. This was definitely an emergency, a giant one because once Jervis was removed from his throne, Bolton was given a call and that was all the warning anyone had.

Quietly rummaging through his hidden stash, Scarecrow found his costume and quickly changed before continuing. He had 3 small cans of toxin, a smoke bomb which released toxin, rope, pins for lock picking, a gun with poison tipped darts and an extra gas mask just in case. As he approached the bars of his cell, Scarecrow heard the quiet hum of the electric current that ran through them. Bolton, who figured that escape attempts would happen, came up with the idea to inflict pain if an inmate tried to escape.

Luckily, the lock was just outside the door. All Scarecrow had to do was pick it without anybody noticing. Normally, the doors would be giant, metal walls that were unbreakable but Bolton found the cruel pleasure in watching the inmates attempt to get out only to be electrocuted in the process. He knew that this would hurt but he had to do it an order to escape. The moonlight illuminated the cell through the window, bringing to light all the bruises that dappled Scarecrow's exposed skin. Fear surrounded him as Scarecrow reached out with shaky hands, sweat dotting his forehead. With a pin in his grasp, Scarecrow grabbed the lock on the other side of the bars, clenching his jaws together as tightly as he could to no one would hear him.

As Scarecrow worked the lock, he could feel tiny buzzes of electricity bounce of his arms. His breathing became rapid his he heard footsteps and the shadow of a flashlight approach, ready to come around the corner. Finally, he heard a satisfying click and pulled his arms as fast as he could through the bars. This was mistake though; his left arm rubbed against one of the bars, sending a powerful jolt of energy into is body. Crane nearly yelped as he was thrown backwards and onto the cold stone floor of his cell. His whole body convulsed while the energy traveled through it.

At last, the guard left and the energy was gone. Crane got up, steadied himself and gripped the bars, pushing the door open, despite the pain. Even with the obvious pain, Scarecrow wasn't willing to give up yet. Now was the hard part, getting past all of Bolton's security. Now a sensible person would've have used the window but in Scarecrow's situation, that was a bad idea. Not only did he have a frail body but his cell was too high off the ground. Even the rope wouldn't have been long enough to give a safe drop down. Plus, the search lights that scanned the area would've made it much too risky to pull off. Scarecrow prayed that nobody was watching the security cameras.

"Relax, almost there," Scarecrow mentally ordered his body.

Scarecrow knew that Bolton was still in the building so timing was everything. Sneaking around the corners as quietly as he could, Scarecrow made his way down the stairs and closer to the exit. As he got to the lower floors, he spotted more and more guards. This was unusual but this was now Bolton's territory and anything that seemed abnormal was mostly Bolton's doing. As he reached the door, Scarecrow slipped past Harley's cell. However, he stopped and stared at her. Harley Quinn was one of the most extraordinary people on the planet. Unlike most inmates, Harley always addressed him as "Professor Crane" and she was always kind to him. The beauty that radiated from her was blocked by cuts and bruises, Bolton's doing no doubt, and her restlessness that night.

Sighing with a heavy heart, Scarecrow continued walking and quickly opened the door and went through, closing it gently and cringing every time it made a creaky noise. When it was fully shut, Scarecrow broke off into a run, trying to get far away a possible before the guards rallied search parties in order to find the escapee. His heart pounded like thunder in his chest and he was glistening in sweat as he raced faster and faster. As soon as he was almost out, Scarecrow heard an indistinct sound which sounded like it was coming from the asylum.

"They know!" he angrily told himself under his breath.

Scarecrow whipped his head around and saw the search lights scan the area and heard the loud, echoing barks of police dogs. If they caught him, they'd tear him apart. Deciding to ignore them, Scarecrow continued running and escaped into the night but not before throwing the smoke bomb in order to draw the guards away.

Bolton's POV

Bolton smiled to himself as he sunk into his chair in his office in Arkham Asylum. Everything was going according to plan; the inmates weren't escaping, crime had decreased rapidly and there was more order. Now this was the way it should have always been. Those doctors, in his mind, were too easy going on the criminals. In Bolton's perspective, if you were a criminal then you will always be one. Just as he was beginning to settle down, he felt a sudden rush of cold air.

"Idiot guards still haven't learned a thing!" he thought to himself.

In the asylum, Bolton had hired new guards to add to his army of security. Unfortunately, some of them didn't have the sharpest minds. Leaving his office, Bolton headed to the rec room where somebody had decided to put fireplace. Bad idea if the inmate was called the Joker. Bolton knew though how to handle punks like him so a least that problem was taken care of. Lighting it, he settled down on a sofa and watched as the burning blaze crackled away. The eerie glow was supposed to calm the soul instead, it did the exact opposite for Bolton.

The more he gazed at the rising flames, the more hatred seemed to build up inside Bolton. He could not understand why this was happening. Maybe it was his own twisted nature that was finally catching up to him. "Impossible," he told himself. Bolton considered himself to be a good person; someone trying to purge Gotham of its criminals. But as he continued to stare into the fire, he began to get angry. The flames were like the inmates to him, burning things that could only be extinguished by something powerful so they wouldn't reignite. His anger continued to rise and only after a thought of killing one of the inmates did a cruel smile finally settle on Bolton's face. They deserved to be punished! After all, they were the ones who killed, who lied, cheated, kidnapped, not him.

Standing up, Bolton took a deep breath and imagined the inmates burning in front of him. He'd be a hero, not that Batman character. Gotham would thank him and he would receive praise that most people would just have to dream of. Maybe he could run for mayor! These thoughts satisfied him greatly. All was well when his phone buzzed loudly. Cursing silently, he opened it up and answered, "what do you want?!" He bit his lip for saying it a little too loudly. On the other line, a quiet, timid voice replied, "Pro- Pro- Professor Cr- Crane has escaped!" "What? Impossible!" Bolton hissed angrily. "He's nowhere in Arkham. We've checked everywhere, every floor, the basement and even the grounds." "Get out!" Bolton shouted into the phone and hung up. "I'll find him even if I have to destroy all of Gotham!"

Bolton seethed and breathed rapidly. Once he found Scarecrow, he'd kill him. This was the last time someone would escape and everyone in Arkham would pay. If Bolton had to admit it, he was impressed that Scarecrow actually got out undetected. But that will all change now. Scarecrow would not know what hit him when he was returned by the Bat. But Scarecrow will suffer and Bolton would make sure of that. He would never see the light of day again!