Fear Thieves

By Trick Steven

Author's Note: Happy new year everybody! If you're wondering why this story isn't in the usual BTAS section, it's because I can't see the BTAS Scarecrow being a sadistic, killing kind of guy. I don't own the Scarecrow or any Batman related characters but I do own Robert and the ill-fated Emmy.


The Boss said that robbing this place was going to be easy. Get in, grab whatever looks valuable, and get out. I trusted Boss because he had given me good advise in the past and had help me fence whatever I stole for a good sum of cash. Plus, it's good to have a boss that has connections in some high places in Gotham, if you know what I mean. So even though the apartment looked like something out of a Steven King novel, I believed that robbing the place was going to easy or so my Boss assured me… what a big lie that turned out to be.
"Hey Robert, what's the address again?" asked Emmy, my fellow thief and partner in crime for this particular night.

I took a drag from my cigarette and muttered, "It's close."

Emmy scowled at me but continued to peer out at the dark street from our car for the apartment's number. Emmy was always impatient but she was useful whenever we were in a tight spot. She could shoot better then I could and I remember this one time when I was about to be mauled by this huge rottweiler after we robbed a couple of rich suckers in their sleep. I didn't hear the dog as I was walking in their backyard until BAM! The monster had his jaws in my arm and wouldn't let go. I couldn't reach for my gun and I didn't want to yell since those snobbish bastards could've woken up and called the cops. The dog was about to rip my arm from my socket and I was praying to high heaven but then I heard a bullet whiz by and it hit the dog square in the head. The monster mutt toppled down and I looked at Emmy wide-eyed and slacked jawed because I never knew she had the guts to fire a gun, much less to know how to actually use it. That was the last time I ever thought of Emmy as a dumb blond who didn't know the difference between a gun barrel and a pickle jar.

"Rob? Robert? Hellooo?," said Emmy as she poked my shoulder.

"Huh? What?," I grumbled. I always had a habit of not paying attention to anything when I was recounting the very exciting times of my life.

"We're here," she said, pointing her pink-nailed finger to a nearby abandoned-looking apartment.

"Good," I said gruffly. I took one last puff of my cigarette and threw it on the asphalt. I shifted the car into park in a lonely alleyway and I got out. Emmy followed after and I checked to see if I had everything on me. Gun? Check. Pick-locking pins? Check. Backpack? Check. Black ski mask? Check. Other black clothing? Check.

"Got everything?" I asked Emmy.

"Yup," she assured.

I gave a nod and I began to put on my ski mask as I already had my other black outfit on.

I waited as Emmy put on her mask and then we were off to the target. I ducked in the shadows and avoided the street lamps as we made our way to the back of the building. I noticed that there wasn't a living thing in sight. Not even a stray cat was to be seen around in the streets and alleyways. I found it a bit fishy, but then I thought that it was pretty late anyways so I brushed it as we got to the building. On the back of the apartment was a fire escape and I saw a window that was open just the tiniest bit, but it was enough. Boss was right when he said that robbing this place was going to be easy. The fire escape was a little off the ground so Emmy picked up a trashcan and with much effort, placed it beneath the metal steps. I got up on it with as little noise as I could make and grabbed on to the fire escape, pulling myself up. I helped Emmy up and we quietly made our way to the open window.

"Remember," I began as we stopped outside of the window, "Grab any lab equipment that you can fit in your pack, alright?"

"How about plans and stuff?," asked Emmy as she fiddled with her backpack strap.

"Well if they seem important, go ahead and bag 'em," I replied.

Boss sent us to this deserted place because he told me that if we stole lab equipment from one guy instead of a company, it would be less likely to be reported and tracked down. Now whether he was lying or not, I'll never know but as long as I got my fair share I was fine with it.

I tested the window to see if I could open it a bit more. I was doubtful, but as if lady luck was by our side, the window slid open from my touch. I smiled underneath my mask and I motioned Emmy to come in as I stepped inside the apartment.

The first thing that hit me was the smell. It smelled awful, like something died in there. I couldn't see Emmy's face but I could tell from the way she fanned her face that she smelled it too. I looked around to see what I could find, but there was only an ancient-looking bookshelf with even older looking books, along with a table and a wooden chair. I walked into the hallway, carefully moving forward. I noticed that the wall paper was peeling off and there were big white cobwebs in the corners.

"God, it's so disgusting in here," commented Emmy in the dark as I saw her looking at a huge cobweb with a spider attached.

"Not posh enough for you?," I said, smirking at her.

I saw her roll her eyes at me and I felt like laughing, but I didn't want to wake up the man of the house and spend my ten years in prison, so I didn't.

I crept toward a door and jiggled the doorknob. This door wasn't locked either so I tipy-toed inside and looked around. This room looked more like a lab with test tubes and colored liquid in funny shaped glass jars. I walked toward the metal table and looked at the stuff with a thief's eye. I didn't see anything I could steal; god knows what could be in those vials and there wasn't any valuable lab equipment from what I could see. I looked at Emmy to see if she found anything yet but she seemed to be goofing around, laughing at something she was reading.

"Whoever this guy is, he's a total nutcase!," laughed out Emmy.

"Shut up! Somebody could hear you!," I whispered loudly to her.

"Rob, look what he wrote! It's so funn-," started Emmy before I came over to her side and clamped her mouth shut with my gloved hand.

"You're starting to piss me off," I growled in her ear. "So unless you want to stay here until the cops come knocking, I think you better start quieting down, o.k.?"

I let go of her and she saw the anger in my eyes, so she zipped up. Good. Now I could concentrate on actually finding somethingvaluable in this dump. I continued to look for whatever Boss said could be found here and was shifting through a bin full of documents when I saw a dark shape in the corner of my eye. I turned around, but I didn't see anything. I thought it could've been a trick of the light since the lighting in the room wasn't too good, so I looked away. I saw Emmy silently paw through some papers and then she picked up an envelope. Curiously, she opened it up and some white powder got on her face. She dropped the envelope and started coughing. I half-hoped that the envelope didn't have anthrax in it or else Emmy would be seriously screwed. I was pretty sure that if I said that to her however, she would start panicking so I didn't mention any deadly diseases when I came up to her to see if she was alright. She was crouching down on the floor and I keeled in front of her. I looked at her eyes and I was unnerved at what I saw. Her eyes were glossy and they were focusing on something behind me, like if she wasn't all there.

"Emmy, are you…alright?", I asked her nervously.

When I spoke, her eyes focused on me but they looked dead. Damn, it was creepy. But what came next was even scarier.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!", Emmy screamed as she began to claw at my face. I scrambled away from her, staring at her in horror as she screamed at the top of her lungs.

"THE BLOOD…IT'S EVERYWHERE!," she screamed and she began to tear at her skin, leaving fresh trails of blood on her once pink nails.

I didn't know what to do, so I sat there like a dumb ass and watched as she made herself bleed. I heard a chuckle behind me and I whipped around to see a tall, lankly man in some old looking pj's standing a few feet away from me. The screaming, the tall ugly man… it all made sense now. The man of the house was none other then the Scarecrow, the infamous villain that liked to make people scream and beg for their mommies. Shit. Double shit. Of all the people I had to rob, it had to be a twisted, sadistic, fear-loving villain. I reached for my gun, but I couldn't find it on me. I then started to panic. Maybe if I appealed to his better nature, he wouldn't reduce me to a screaming, snot-nosed heap.

I opened my mouth to say a compliment about how fine his crooked nose was when he said, "Save your words. No amount of flattery or begging is going to save you now."

I was surprised that he knew what I was going to say. I really hoped that he wasn't a mind reader or a psychic or some other meta crap like that because if he was, I might as well dig my grave now.

"I've studied types like yours," stated the Scarecrow as he grabbed a chair from his workbench and sat down next to me. "People like you have no spine. You rather be a coward, to live another day rather then die heroically."

"Who wouldn't?," I muttered, raising an eyebrow. Oops...damn. Well if he was going to kill me it would've been right then and there.

"Well it would be only human nature," said the Scarecrow, "As are a host of other things. Fear is one them." He gestured to Emmy's writhing body and he smiled.

His smile reminded me too much of those documentaries on TV about serial killers. You know, the ones where they talk about how much the killers enjoyed strangling or cutting up people. That was the moment when I knew that the Scarecrow was one sick son of a bitch. I mean, what kind of a person smiles when somebody is dieing?

I then saw the Scarecrow take a gun; my gun I realized, and was examining it with some kind of strange amusement.

"A gun is such a common weapon, don't you think?," he said aloud as he traced the trigger.

Please don't shoot, PLEASE don't shoot, I thought to myself. I also thought about praying, but then again I didn't know if he would take offense to that.

"And that's why I rarely use one. Guess what I use instead?," he asked me leering.

"F-f-fear?," I guessed, stammering.

"Very good!," he said and he beamed at me, like if I was one of his students that gave a correct answer. What, is he going to give me a cookie for giving him the right answer? He then slowly took something from one of the tables, something that I couldn't see from my angle.

God, I was only being sarcastic! Don't give me anything, don't!

"Well, I would appreciate you being part of my experiment. I can't guarantee you that it will be pain-free, but sometimes you need to make sacrifices in the name of progress," said the Scarecrow, showing a silver canister in his hand marked with a skull.

I didn't need to know what was inside that canister to know that I didn't want anything to do with it.

"Um, don't you need my permission to be part of your experiment?," I asked, trying to buy time as I was figuring out a way to escape.

He waved it off saying, "You signed off your rights the moment you stepped in here. Besides, who's going to miss a common thief?"

I was about to argue that I wasn't common or two bit but before I could talk, the screaming in the background stopped. The Scarecrow peered curiously at Emmy, which I knew from a glance, was dead. I ignored the tightening in the stomach at the realization that somebody I knew well was gone and I thanked her for all those fun times we had together before I jammed my fist in the scum-bag's face. He yelped in pain and dropped the canister and I ran like hell to the nearest exit. I ran past the cobwebs and the ugly wallpaper and jumped out the window. I hit the fire escape with a clang, ran, then tripped, and stumbled down the stairs. I hit the trashcan hard and I stopped to press my hand to my head. I noticed that I was bleeding in several places on my body. Great, just great. Then when I thought things couldn't get any worse, a canister fell at my feet and had a minor explosion. I coughed at the gas, tried to fend it away but it was no use. A big hellish looking dog was growling at me and in the back of my mind I knew I saw it because of the gas, that it wasn't real, but I ran screaming like a pansy anyways.


"Nice story Robert, but did you get anything?," asked my boss as he was sitting at his desk, all proper like.

"Look Boss, my partner died, the Scarecrow tried to use me as his guinea pig, and I spent a month in the hospital hallucinating that a dog was going to kill me. Do you think I got anything?," I said, trying hard to hide my new found bitterness for my boss.

"Hmm… well I'm sorry that you had to go through all that. I had no idea that the Scarecrow was living in that building or else I wouldn't have sent you." said my boss.

Sure, I thought, real sorry. Sorry my ass! And I doubted that he didn't know that the Scarecrow lived there! I felt like flipping him off, but I knew that it wouldn't solve anything and probably cause pain-related events to happen to me.

"Here, your paycheck. I hope that, despite what happened to you, you'll work for me again in the future."

The old geezer handed me an envelope and I took it gladly. Hmm… he never gave me a paycheck when I never brought anything in. Maybe Boss was turning over a new leaf. I thanked him and left the building. Once I got into my car, I opened up the envelope, eager to see how much money he gave me. When I discover he only gave me 150 bucks, I lost it. Luckily I was in my car, since the words I spoke weren't the kind that should fall on innocent ears.