It was a dark and depressing day at the Arkham Asylum, even more so than usual. The crazies had been rounded up like cattle and herded to the Mental part of the facility, leaving competent criminals in the West Wing and Main part of the building. Crane had been in and out of Arkham before, and it came as no surprise to him when Warden Quincy Sharp made his rounds to antagonize some of the well known criminals. As the Warden passed the heat room where Ivy was kept, Crane could hear him mutter something that made Ivy throw herself at the glass walls of her cell, screaming and cursing. The cell where Dr. Crane was kept was slightly larger than those of lower criminals, but only because it provided more security. The walls were made from reinforced concrete, with steel plating 6 inches thick. The floor was solid steel, reaching far into the foundation of the room, and of Arkham. The door was Titanium, a foot and a half thick, with steel bars on a small 'peep hole' no bigger than a foot across and 6 inches wide. The only light in his cell was from a small lighting fixture secured firmly in the ceiling with a metal grate over it. There was one bed, hardly large enough for a child, one dirty toilet, clogged from the filth of previous inmates, and a vent with a steel cover over it.

Crane was sitting in the middle of the bed, facing the vent when the Warden stopped by for a bit of torment. "You know, Jonathan, you look like a sickly youth. No wonder you are always by yourself. Men don't want to be associated with you, and women wouldn't TOUCH you." Crane did nothing but stare at the vent. Sharp walked away laughing. Jonathan was familiar with the laughter, for he had heard it every day of his life. From the very first bully, it stayed with him, mocking him. It was what drove him to the brink of insanity. He took a deep breath, and leaned back against the cold wall closing his eyes. It would be lights out in a few hours, and he knew that the Warden, and everyone else in Gotham, would get what was coming to them.

****

It was now 9 o' clock, meaning lights out. Crane hadn't moved from the spot he was in 2 hours ago. When the lights went out with a loud CLANK noise, he looked up. It was almost pitch black in his cell now, except for the faint light coming from the vent. The surrounding cells containing prisoners suddenly hushed. Crane stood up, reached under his bed and pulled out a small cloth bag, and a piece of rope. There was a shout, and then the sirens went off, wailing a warning. Crane unfolded the cloth bag, revealing a glove fitted with four syringes, a hood, bands, and a file. He stripped down to his underpants, and put the cloth hood on, along with the syringe glove, rope, leg and arm bands. The hood was fitted with a sort of gas mask, and the glove ran to a small tank of glowing orange liquid that hid under the long back of the hood. Crane had become the Scarecrow once again. He took the file and carefully worked the bolts holding the cover of the vent off. As he carefully slid the cover aside, the doors of his cell opened with a gentle thud. It was Harley Quinn. "Mista Jay says its time ta party, and your invited. Though I don't know why…" Crane sat motionless on his haunches in the opening of the vent. Harley rolled her eyes and strolled off, holding a small paper list. Scarecrow sighed and got on all fours to crawl through the vent. It was a tight fit, but his body was thin enough to fit comfortably while moving quickly. He followed the vent through the twists and turns, ending up on the floor where the elevators that transported inmates were.

He exited the vent, and stood up. The sirens were screaming and flashing red warnings to the room. He ignored the irritating noise, and went down the shaft of the elevator using the large cable that allowed it to move. He stopped next to a vent without a cover on it, and proceeded to climb into it. But as he let go of the cable, he slipped and jerked his left arm, letting out a grunt or pain. Hauling the rest of his body into the air duct, he held his shoulder. It was throbbing, but ok. He followed the small tunnel to a cave that he had hollowed out on his last visit to Arkham. It was filled to the brink with hand drawn maps and pictures, mostly of Batman. He stood up and reached for a small pile of papers sitting on a stone. He flipped through them until he found the one he was looking for. Reading over it carefully, he folded it and tucked it into the armband on his right arm.

Sighing, Scarecrow took a map of the outer part of the Asylum, marking certain areas. He left the hidden area, and made his way up the cable again, with some trouble from his shoulder. He made his way up to the first floor and got off. By now, the alarms had been stopped, probably by Harley or the Joker. He knew what they were doing, but he didn't care. He wanted no part of it. He had his own plans. And everyone in Gotham would feel his wrath once and for all.


AN Im glad someone liked the first chapter! I hope I didnt dissapoint anyone with the second one. And i have decided to change the rating to M, probably by the 3rd or 4th chapter. Much will be going on, sorry its slow at starting.^^