Ello! Minion here, hope you've enjoyed the story so far. Also I do not in any way, shape, or form own Batman/Batman Begins or anything affiliated with it. With that in mind, enjoy!

...The Day Before Senior Prom...

The school was abuzz with the new of Prom seeing as there was only one day before the actual event; however, it seemed much more...festive than usual. Of course my usual tormentors still found ways to taunt me, using her death to goad me into action. I grew numb to it. I was thankful of Madeline but I was also angry. It wasn't just how she was killed or how they got away with it. It went beyond that. Yes, tomorrow I would punish Bo and Sherry, scare them as they scared others into silence and submission, but also I would open a new door within my life.

Graduation was almost here and I eagerly awaited it. My grades were near perfect and I was the top of all my classes. My teacher's adored me and each promised wonderful letters of recommendation to whichever college I wished to attend. College in question wasn't an issue, I wished to become a professor in psychology to further my research in fear and I knew Georgia wasn't a...favorable place to begin my search. Money was a slight issue and while I raised plenty of money during odd jobs and such things, I needed (and was assured) a scholarship to leave the state for college.

In a way I was giddy as to my approaching freedom. I would be gone from this wretched place, from these terrible people...then one day, I'd return for my revenge. It was my doting teachers who were the fools if they thought I respected them. Ha! I could teach their classes better than they were able. Even the town itself was foolish if they believed themselves to be safe from me. I would awaken a terror within them so strong it would cause utter, destructive chaos! Yes, I was vengeful—how could I not be? My entire life this town has bear witness to my torture with a smile, covering up my silent pleas with sickening lies and false pride of my tormentors' achievements. This town stood by while I was being hurt, while Madeline had been murdered!

I wanted them all to pay, to feel the fear I did. I was unsure as how to start but I had a few...interesting ideas—But enough of that, first I had to talk to Sherry.

I neared her before class had begun, she was the only one in the room aside from a trio of gossiping girls on the other side of the room and a loner in the back listening to music.

"Sherry..." I said and she looked at me, her eyes first widening then narrowing.

"What do you want?"

"Why did you lie," I asked nonplussed, staring deeply into her green eyes.

"Excuse you?"

I glared, "You know what I'm talking about, that night...why did you lie? Were you scared of getting caught? Were you afraid Bo would leave you if you stopped him?"

She swallowed clearly uncomfortable and then scoffed, "As if, I have no idea what you're talking about...freak."

She drew out the word and I pushed my glasses up further on my nose, "Yes you do, you're just too scared to say anything—"

"What the hell, leave me alone!" she shot back slightly louder than need be.

That drew the attention of a fellow jock who had just entered the room and now walked up with his chest puffed out, "That freak bothering you, Sherry?"

She frowned at me but once she saw my eyes she faltered, "N-no..." she then turned to the jock and laughed superficially, "He just asked me to prom! What a loser..."

I exhaled and ignored the taunts as I took my seat...I was hoping to find an answer before I took my revenge. I suppose that was my mercy, if she confessed I'd spare her. Bo on the other hand wouldn't receive anything even similar to pity. He didn't deserve it...and apparently neither did Sherry.

...The Night Of Prom...

Most teenagers would be preparing for prom in a bathroom or bedroom: checking over their outfit, fixing their hair, maybe their makeup if they were a woman, but either way they would be obsessed with their face, looking forward to being seen in glamorous light even if only for a moment. How pathetic...Instead of readying myself in my room or the bathroom I was in my garage. My grandmother had gone to sleep earlier with the belief that I was staying in, so she would supply my alibi if I ever were to be suspected...but I wouldn't be.

I shifted slightly in the still itchy (I missed a few pieces of the straw) shirt from the scarecrow in the fields. In order to set him free I took him down and dissembled him for his parts. Much to my surprise he wasn't infested with insects or moldy, he was just a scarecrow made of straw and old clothes. I emptied out all the straw, or so I had thought, then carefully made my way into his skin (a kind of morbid thought). Whoever had designed this scarecrow I was thankful toward. They sewed the head to the shirt yet left the buttons intact so they were able to continuously stuff the body with straw. This acted as an entryway for me to step inside the costume which felt like a second skin.

Thanks to the troublesome crows the buttons were gone leaving only two ragged eye holes which was enough for me to see through. I patted myself down to make sure I was ready, true the bottom of the scarecrow's outfit felt odd over my shoes but it would do. Curiously I looked into a mirror that hung just over the stairwell in the garage. My eyes widened at the effect: I was gruesome, terrifying...I was perfect.

Not wanting to risk bringing the car, I began walking in the fading sun. I knew I would reach the school around the time the earliest attendants would appear. Among all of them I should find Bo and Sherry, after all they bragged about their new car and I knew almost every detail from eavesdropping (including the cherry car freshener hanging from the windshield which Sherry bought because she 'hated that gross, new car smell you know?').

Yes, they would pay tonight...I've planned this for months: waiting, watching, planning for this exact day. There was no use on mourning Madeline any further than tonight. After this event, this closure, I'd put her past me. I wasn't ungrateful, I was actually deeply touched by her. After pouring over her stories and poems I found a lot of it to be disturbing to say the least...dark, morbid, yet sickeningly happy. She'd find odd ways to depict a horrifying event in a cherry manner that left me perplexed. Although it wasn't as confusing as the strange journal entries she wrote.

They were scarce and long, only dated at the end and mixed in with her other works but it intrigued me. I learned of her fears, what plagued her mind...She wrote them in a ranting sort of way, using her skills as a writer to spin a dark train of thought which I found myself sucked into. I learned she was deeply depressed, often pondering on suicide or other dark matters. Apparently her psychology books were read for a greater value than a search for knowledge. Often Madeline wrote about her fear of insanity (or rather her insanity), while comparing her morbid thoughts and impulses to the books she read. It was very disturbing to know someone who smiled and easily connected with me could be so...unstable.

I knew she was odd, if not for the things she said but how she continuously stabbed people but I hadn't suspected her actually being insane. Whether or not she was didn't matter because she was dead. From her death I was able to learn much about the mind...and fear. Within her detailed, dark writing, fear was often the prevailing emotion aside from anger or confusion. That coupled with the psychology book I had taken, deepened my interest in that unpleasant emotion. Yes, I would look forward to a grand library at a university, filled with books on the mind...books written solely on fear.

The fading sun roasted me within the full, itchy costume. It was worth it though. I'd take the blistering heat in return for a complete disguise for my plan. Although I was surprised no one had driven by already and reported me. In a way I felt an odd sense of thrill, thinking that at any moment someone would drive through and see a ghastly scarecrow wielding a gun as he walked along the road. No matter that everything would be ruined...my last tribute to Madeline, the beginning of my life. I just couldn't bring myself to move deeper into the shadows of the cornfields. Instead I'd let them see. I wouldn't hide anymore.

'Scarecrow' they taunted me, 'straw man' they called out...yes, I was. Before I was strung up for abuse until Madeline opened a door to me. When she died I took the incentive and untied myself from my desolate post. While I wore my poverty in my faded clothes and grisly appearance I would inspire the same fear, no worse fear, into my rich, undeserving 'peers'.

After my last...gift to them, I'd settle down. Avoiding suspicion should be easy enough, after all I was moving on to better and greater things. These simpletons didn't deserve my presence and made it very clear from a young age. My mother treated me no differently, perhaps a bit colder but left me to my lonesome self...I preferred that over my grandmother who once locked me in the old neighboring church with 'the good book' to impel some religious gratitude or some other rubbish.

What my grandmother neglected to mention was the church's utter vacancy...it had been abandoned years ago and only housed birds daily...I shuddered remembering that day. Oh those birds, what loathsome creatures who (as I learned) did not take kindly to my 'intrusion'.

The moment I entered the arching house of God, they flocked over me. In a panic I lashed out against their feathers that brushed past me and their hard beaks which pecked at my outstretched fingers. There was no escape from these mindless devils. At least with my grandmother's baptisms I'd have the chance of passing out from a lack of breath allowing me some reprieve from the chilling, dirty water which would 'cleanse' me.

That night I rested unto myself, huddled in the corner without any light, food, or warmth. Where was God's healing hand now? I was in his house of worship, wasn't I? I was alone, humbled by the foul creatures that resided here. I felt no strange epiphany or 'touch' of the holy spirit which often incurred my grandmother's rages with her cane. There was nothing but silence and the occasional shuffle of the nesting birds. I hated this place, hated these birds, hated my bitter grandmother and cold mother, but most of all I hated God.

He was the blame for it all. Useless in every way as he offered false promises of safety and love. Where was my safety? Where was my love? I stood and waved at the upturned altar, "Where are you?"

The birds let out indignant squawks but I paid them no mind as I spoke with a cracking voice, "Where were you my entire life?"

The church fell silent aside from my panting as I angrily stared at my surroundings. There was no use in trying the door, somehow my grandmother had locked it. The windows stretched too high for me to reach and then there was those blasted birds.

"Why? Why won't you answer me? You helped them! Gave my grandmother the strength to beat me with her cane! Gave my mother the patience to ignore my existence!" When I had no reply I threw the useless bible at a standing pew which shook causing an angry flock of crows to rise.

"I don't need you!" I yelled but was suddenly overcome by the descending creatures.

I cried out, curling into myself as I was surrounded, overwhelmed, by the birds. The noise was deafening as the menacing birds pecked at my skin, biting (I didn't know crows bit) my hands, my neck, my face if I shifted slightly. I felt their sharp talons scratch at my hair, pulling on the strands. The shrill calls rang in my ears as I was stuck in this hell of crows. Was this a punishment? Was I being taught God's wrath for denouncing him and rejecting his Word? If so I'd be dammed twice because I wouldn't repent!

After what seemed to be a hellish eternity, the birds left and I slowly raised my head only to duck down as I felt a straggling crow peck my hairline instead of my glasses. With a squawk that one was also gone but I didn't bother moving. The entire night I stayed just like that, kneeled over myself on the floor, hands hugging my sides as my forehead pressed into the ground painfully while I tried to bunch in on myself. At times I'd feel the crows as they flew over, I'd hear the shifting in the air the scratching of their clawed feet. Yet even when they perched on my shaking form I refused to move...

For hours I was frozen. I zoned in and out of awareness but never relaxed my position. It was only when the door shuddered behind me and I heard my grandmother's gravelly cough that I had come to anticipate and hate.

"Jonathan! You lazy boy, have you learned God's lesson?"

I achingly outstretched from my position and cried out against my sore, cramped muscles.

"Is that a complaint, Jonathan? Do you reject the teachings huh? Where's the good book?"

I froze, oh no, I had thrown it at the pew...Grandmother—

There was a sharp blow to my back and I winced but stood shakily knowing the beatings for idleness were worse than the cruel fasting of pride.

"T-the birds, Grandmother...they—"

"Lies, boy!" she waved her cane at me her wrinkled face seeming to stretch inhumanly as the angry words spilled from her mouth, "All creatures are creatures of God, they do not sin as man does. You lie, stuttering with the devil gripping your tongue."

With wide eyes I shook my head but she picked up the book tenderly, with a sort of reverence I had never received, before squinting her beady eyes at me, "Have you learned, boy?"

I swallowed hating my obedience but too fearful to do anything else, "Yes, Grandmother."

"Recite boy, from the book of Judges."

I nodded quickly knowing which passage she was referring to. It was her favorite and she often mocked me with the words I had come to memorize. With a well learned humility I recited the passage.

" 'And yet they would not hearken unto their judges, but they went a-whoring after other gods, and bowed themselves unto them: they turned quickly out of the way which their fathers walked in, obeying the commandments of the LORD; but they did not so.

And when The LORD raised them up judges, then the LORD was with the judge, and delivered them out of the hand of their enemies all the days of the judge: for it repented the LORD because of their groanings by reason of them that oppressed them and vexed them.

And it came to pass, when the judge was dead, that they returned, and corrupted themselves more than their fathers, in following other gods to serve them, and to bow down unto them; they ceased not from their own doings, nor from their stubborn way.

And the anger of the Lord was hot against Israel'—"

"Good, boy, good...but even the devil can quote the scripture. What did you learn?"
With lowered eyes (hiding my glare) I replied, "I have corrupted myself with the other gods and incurred God's-"I quickly glanced up trying to gauge what mood she was in, she had her eyes trained on me in a hard way but I saw tears at the edges, "loving, receiving hand-" had she seemed superior I would have claimed God's 'wrath' but if I spoke against his 'holiness' she often grew cross. She was truly an impossible woman, " which showed me the error of my ways."

She frowned, her mouth twisting so sharply I was surprised the thin, papery flesh didn't tear, "What god did you bow to? What god do you reject now?"

I looked down so lying would come easier, "Science, I repented from its teachings."

She clicked her tongue and I looked up, "I act as the judge which waits with God's grace, you may have repented but how do I know you won't sully yourself worse than your whoring mother did with that damned man?"

I looked up and quoted once more this time from the book of Isaiah, " 'Therefore the LORD shall have no joy in their young men, neither shall have mercy on their fatherless and widows: for every one is a hypocrite and an evildoer, and every mouth speaketh folly. For all this his anger is not turned away, but his hand is stretched out still.'"

She frowned deeply and continued the quotation, "Be mindful of others, Jonathan 'For wickedness burneth as the fire it shall devour the briers and thorns, and shall kindle in the thickets of the forest, and they shall mount up like the lifting up of smoke.' One day there won't be another to show you mercy but the Lord's judging eye."

My stomach turned with revulsion and anger but I willed myself to remain calm.

"Enough of this idleness boy!"

Without another word she shoved the 'good book' in my hands and made her way out of the church, I made to follow her but she stopped me, "I'll return at dusk, pray for forgiveness..." her eyes pierced into me, "You'll need it to repent your sinful life," she sighed and pressed a hand to her head, "Such kindness, it exhausts me to spend my energy on a damned fool like you," suddenly she looked up and snarled, "To hell with you, boy!"

Before I could even blink she shut the doors and once more I was left in the dark...

I clenched my fists, thankful that the gun was on safety. She locked me in that horrid church when I was twelve... I'd never forget the horrible things that woman did, I'd never forgive my mother for standing by uncaring as I was unnecessarily punished—But enough of that, I was nearing the school's parking lot and already it was dark although barely anyone had arrived. I felt sweat run down my calf and used my other leg to dry it with the combined fabric of my pants under the scarecrow's outfit. It was truly sweltering in here but it was worth it...

I positioned myself in the bushes, watching as cars pulled up and happily chatting friends or lovestruck couples made their way to the door. I pushed down my pang of longing and sadness as I realized that was what Madeline and I must have looked like on our arrival at homecoming—no nevermind that, I was waiting for them.

I shifted my weight, feeling eager and giddy all over. Part of me was hyped up, I was actually going to do this! The other, more rational side, urged me to be cautious. Jumping in front of a car would hardly be productive but it'd be hard to scare them in particular if they swarmed with everyone else as the gun went off. I wasn't planning to kill anyone...just scare them, badly.

A silver car began its crawl up the slight hill of the school's parking lot and my breathing hitched as I recognized it...there was even that cherry car freshener swaying under the rear view mirror. Due to the school's position they'd have to speed down the hill and then make their way into the parking lot. Many cars sped past this hill easily slowing in time to turn and I hoped they would as well. I had only a moment to act and so I waited long enough to recognize Sherry's gold hair before running out in the open in front of the speeding car. I waved the gun in the air then pointed it at them.

Their reaction was immediate. Tires squealed as Bo turned the wheel harshly, his eyes bulging in surprise as his mouth moved and I made out a few swears. Sherry on the other hand shrilly screamed, oh how I relished the sound, and wore a mask of pure horror on her face as she brought her hands up to shield herself.

I turned and watched with glee as the car went over the median and sped over a curb, Bo must have tried to steer away from the quickly approaching fence and tried to brake but I saw Sherry grab at him and he batted her away distractedly before the car sped up. Perhaps he pressed the gas instead of the brake? Either way it didn't matter, I watched completely enraptured as the car sped toward a tree near the entryway of the parking lot. Although the tires dug in the dirt it was no match against momentum and gravity as the car crashed into the tree, folding on either end.

This quickly drew attention so I ran back to the bush and quickly pulled off the scarecrow outfit in order smoothed over my suit I wore so it would seem I was attending the dance. Hurriedly I ran my hand through my hair, made damp from sweat. I quickly wrapped the gun (with a full barrel of bullets) inside the scarecrow's body, checking the safety lock. I shoved it deep within the juniper bush then put on my glasses allowing the world to come into focus as I rushed toward the small crowd of gathering onlookers. I had kept my glasses in my suit's pocket to wear later seeing as there was no use with the scarecrow's face over mine, I'd only fog my glasses from my breath if not scratch it from the rough burlap.

While I would come back for the gun before anyone investigated the area around the school, I wanted to get a closer look at the car's inhabitants. I joined the gasping and crying crowd as many drew cell phones to either take pictures or call friends. In the distance I heard an ambulance and police car but I only peered at the car and saw a large bloody smear against the windshield on Sherry's side. Bo, on the other hand, was halfway out of the car due to the windshield cracked which allowed his body to rest mangled over it.

I felt a savage delight. I caused that! I scared them with a gun just as Bo had a few months earlier and just like then it was they who killed themselves! The fear of either running into a fearsome creature or being shot forced them off the road and to their demise! I hadn't even taken the safety off or said one word and I literally scared them to death! Or was it death? I paused for a moment in my joy, had I killed them? I wouldn't feel guilt if I had, they deserved it...but I was morbidly curious. Were they truly gone?

By now the sirens arrived and paramedics quickly rushed onto the scene while policemen began to usher us away. Taking their incentive and worried about my scarecrow outfit with the gun, I calmly walked away in a small group of crying girls (who I recognized as Sherry's friends) as they struggled up the hill probably waiting for a ride by the side of the road. On the way up, I diverged from the group and swiftly grabbed the bundle before quickly walked into the nearby cornfields as began my way home feeling victorious. And so began my new life, vengeance had been achieved but there was more to come...much more.