Disclaimer: All characters belong to DC, with the exception of Magda, Jim, and Danny. Ok warning, this chapter and the next will be intense. Then again, any scene involving fear toxin should. So here is part two.
"What if it doesn't work?" I twitched in my seat nervously.
"Well that's why we have seventeen more, each of varying strength." A wicked smile reached across his mouth. "Tonight I will push you to the edge." The time went by. He checked my vitals and wrote every detail down. In the first hour I noticed that I felt hot. "Your tolerance must be high." Syringe number two. Another hour, and another symptom. "Tell me how you feel?"
"I feel warm, and my mouth is dry." He felt my forehead. After jotting more things down he walked off and came back with a thermometer and a glass of water with a straw. The thermometer was shoved in my mouth, and he looked at his watch again. When he took it away he sounded a little annoyed.
"Your getting a fever my dear. You body must be trying to fight it off." He looked me over curiously, and put the straw to my lips. I drank nearly half the glass, he had to pull it away from me. "Are you on any medications I should know about?"
"None." I could feel the sweat dripping out of my pores.
"Did they do anything to you at the warehouse? Expose you to anything out of the ordinary?"
It clicked and I panted, "Yes. I passed out once and woke up in the medbay. Harley said they were pumping me with a green brew from Ivy. Something to help me tolerate the chemicals the Joker frequently uses."
When he spoke, he stared off into the distance, like he was talking outloud to himself, "If it was Ivy then it was herbal based. There is no use in skewing the data. We just have to continue at this pace and see what happens." Then stared back down at me emotionless, "Thank you for telling the truth. This explains a lot." Another prick, and another hour. My heart started to speed up, and the sweating got worse. My head started to pound, and I squinted my eyes.
"You look like your in pain." He seemed excited by that. "Tell me what you feel now."
"Sweating, thirst, headache and...my heart." I trailed off. He retrieved a stethoscope and pressed it against my chest.
He smiled, "Tightening in the chest maybe? Looks like we are getting somewhere." He shot me up again, and sat there with an air of anticipation surrounding him. "With another couple injections you should be consumed. At that point I can let you roam."
The headache was getting worse, and I couldn't catch my breath, "It's getting bright in here. Can I have more water?" He gave me the straw again and I finished the glass. My vision started to blur, and I started to panic. "Um I'm seeing double now." He took out a small flashlight and tested my eyes.
He sounded intrigued, "Your pupils are dilated. Sometimes fear induced blindness can happen, but don't worry that's usually just temporary." He waited, and another shot. My eyes were worse and before it could register, I was stuck in complete darkness. My heart raced and I jerked around in my seat with violent spasms. I began to cry in low whimpers, then felt the cold metal of the stethoscope on my chest again.
"My, my, you're not afraid of the dark are you?" His voice sounded sinister. All sense of time was lost. I only felt the pricks of those needles. Another, and another, and another. I started to see faces, and relive traumatic moments from my past. There were more painful squeaks coming from the back of my throat.
I saw my mother's face as she knelt down in front me of and kissed me on the forehead. She was saying something, but I couldn't hear her. I tried to read her lips. You know mommy loves you. I have a special journey to go on, and I won't be coming back. Remember you are always mommy's special girl. My sobs must of been loud because Crane sounded intrigued. "What are you seeing?"
My voice shook, "My. My mother. She was saying goodbye." Then another memory. When would lock the kids in the walk in refrigerator for disobeying.
A hand touched my arm, "Your getting goosebumps dear. Tell me, do you see anything?"
I could feel it again, "The cold. It's cold in the fridge. We were bad. We snuck things from the kitchen." I began to shake all over. Then I felt pressure being relieved from my hands and feet. I felt like I was floating, then my back grew cold.
I felt hot breath on my cheek, "Is there anything else?"
The cold lifted and was replaced by another memory. A different memory. A clear vision of Danny's frowning face appeared. "Danny? Why are your things packed up?" I felt warm tears stain my cheek, and my heart began to hurt. It was a pressure, a squeezing feeling. "But you can't leave!" I cried out, seeing him pass through a white lit door frame. I clutched my chest.
His voice uninspired, "Fear of loneliness? How juvenile." I felt another prick.
I was remembering the confrontation I had with Mrs. Watkins after Danny left the first time. I was in her office now pleading, "Why did you let him leave?" I felt my body tense up as I grew angry. My heart racing. I needed to get up, but when I tried my knees buckled and I hit the floor hard. I let out a scream of anger. "He won't be safe with them! Bring him back!" That day I attacked her. Something in me snapped and I threw punches. Almost like hurting someone else would somehow bring him back.
"What did you do?" His voice sounded very curious.
In panicked sobs, "I attacked her. I tried to make her bleed. I thought it would bring him back."
His voice creeping, "Delusional teenage thoughts presented from...anger...or passion? Intriguing. You have a mean streak don't you?" I felt a sharp pain in my other arm. My vision went black, and I was lost again.
Suddenly, I was in a room with someone sitting across from me. He started to speak, "How do you feel today?" I tried to respond, but nothing came out. I was only able to hear his side of the conversation. "You do know why you are here right?" Silence. "And what would you say triggered that reaction?" Eerie quiet. "Fear of what?" Dead Air. "Why would anger help?" I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. "We took a look at your records. Your mother. She commited suicide. Did you know she was sick before that?" He shuffled papers around, "Suffering from delusions. It was classified as shared psychotic disorder, but could of possibly been an undiagnosed residual schizophrenic disorder." His eyes pierced my soul, "We might need to hold you for a couple more days. I hope you understand." I screamed out dead air as my heart beat into oblivion.
Then nothing.
I might not even be breathing.
There was a sharp pain in my chest as a bright light abruptly appeared. My eyes focused as the world snapped back into view, while I gasping for air. Wheezing, I saw Crane on top of me with both slender hands around a big syringe that was still stuck in my chest. I blinked a couple more times, and he started to remove it, noticing I was conscious again.
His brown hair was soaked with sweat, as his blue eyes looked down upon me. "Are you with me? You went into cardiac arrest. I had to give you a shot of Epinephrine." I laid still trying to focus on my breathing, my eyes shifting back and forth, looking into his. The look on his face was pure joy as he lifted me up and placed me back in the chair. I slumped over exhausted, so he used a leather strap to secure my shoulders. "Your screams were remarkable. Now tell me what you saw?"
I short breaths, I tried to speak, "There was a doctor. My anger. My mother. Was a schizo." My breath finally regulated. "After that attack they kept me at the facility and tested me. They never told me the result, but they allowed me to go back to the orphanage."
His eyes were deep in thought, "So I am to deduce that, you fear your inner rage coming out again. Maybe you fear that you will end up like your mother? With some sort of mental illness." He quickly jotted everything down then got up and went to the sink. He came back with another glass full of water. Shoving it in my face, he told me to drink.
Once I had finished the glass I spoke again. "But I'm not like her. They would have told me."
He took the glass away, and sat down across from me. "Do you remember anything about her interactions with you? I know you were young, but is there anything?"
I closed my eyes trying to think, "She would talk a lot. I always thought it was to me, but sometimes she made no sense." I opened my eyes with confusion, "The day she left me at the orphanage, she said she was going on a journey. When I was older, I stupidly thought that meant she was taking a journey of self discovery. Then that doctor told me later she had commited suicide."
He cocked an eyebrow, "And you've never heard voices in your head, right?"
"No, never." I said tears welling in my eyes.
His voice turned professional, "At your current age it is hard to tell. There are five kinds, and by the way it sounds, your mother may of had Residual Schizophrenia. Delusions that come and go, but ultimately all motivation to live ceases to be." He got up and sounded annoyed, "Now that we've gotten that out of the way." He proceeded to strap my hands back down. As I began to panic, I tried to kick him with my freed legs. He grabbed onto the tops of both my thighs and held them in place. Looking down at me maniacally, "Now, now. I know you can't tell what time it is." His tone went high, "It is a brand new day! But you still have eight more doses and ten more hours to go." He strapped down my ankles, then parted my legs and stood between them. He leaned over reaching for another syringe from the cart. "Let's give those arms a rest." He stepped back leaning down, with one hand on my thigh and the needle in the other. "Maybe we should finish with using an area a little less noticeable." He stuck the needle into my inner thigh, and I let out a tiny yelp of pain.
He closed my legs, and sat down again. Leaning in he wiped the tears from my face. "I hope you have some more deep seated fears. You've been a disappointment so far." He wiped the loose hair away from my face, "The only other two people to let me down so much were Ivy and the Joker. Nothing I make ever seems to work on them. Fate is a cruel mistress."
My heart started to race again, eyes darting back and forth. A shadow of a man crept up behind Crane. Disappearing. Reappearing. Disappearing again. Suddenly he reappeared with a knife to Crane's throat. Then a slice. Crane went limp in his chair with blood everywhere. I closed my eyes and screamed. When I opened them again, I was confused. No blood, just Dr. Crane with a smile on his face. Frustrated, I snapped, "Didn't you see him? He was there. Behind you! He killed you!"
He let out a chuckle. "Seems like this dose was working faster. Who is it you saw?" The curiosity never left his face. He went back to the cart and grabbed two needles this time.
I seethed, "It was Zsasz. Victor Zsasz."
Snickering he reached between my thighs, "Dead girl walking? Is that right? He wasn't quiet that day." He pricked me two more times. "Let's skip ahead and intensify the experience." My senses became heightened instantly. It sounded like he was everywhere, his voice echoing. Dr. Crane got up and started wondering around the room. He made me nervous, I tried to look behind me, but froze when I felt hot breath on my neck. This wasn't real. It isn't real.
AN: As you can tell, this whole thing turned into a monster of a plot. It will conclude in a third part, I swear. Please feel free to comment, review, like, or favorite.