Mors Et Timor Chapter 7: Turn Off The Lights, a batman begins/dark knight fanfic

Ello! Minion here! First I would like to thank all you fantastic readers and reviewers for following my humble yet demented story! Your words always fill me with cheer and have me smiling like a maniac to the dismay of those around me(especially in public)!

Now for this chapter I based one scene off of "The Ward" a 2010 movie directed by John Carpenter, so if it seems familiar that's why. Also the movie is quite fantastic, a good thrill on a dull night if anyone is interested-Not to mention some psychological tidbits that might be fun.

Oh and your Halloween treat is nearly complete! I predict with a day of serious writing I'll have it finished and ready to chill anyone who is curious enough to read it. I hope you'll all enjoy the insight into my own life...and consquently the disturbing possibilities that may come of a demented writer if she should ever stumble upon a man who resembles an equally malicious psychiatrst in almost every way...Well that's enough of a sneak peak, I'll have it posted on the 31st for anyone who is interested.

Also I do not own in any way, shape, or form Batman with that in mind, enjoy!

Chapter 7

Scrrcch...

I opened my eyes quickly yet fear kept me frozen in place.

Scrrcch...

I tried to muffle my quickened breathing as the sound neared me yet the prickling sensation of being watched remained; the hairs on the back of my neck rose as I felt a source of chilling cold fall over me...

Scrrcch...

There was silence...

My heart pounded in my throat as the terror washed over me. Barely moving, I looked over my shoulder to find—

AHHH!

…

"Is she going to be alright?" a tentative voice asked.

"She will be once we administer the treatment," I heard Dr. Crane respond.

"Do you know what you're doing, boss?"

"Shh, she's waking up—Hello Revis..."

I blearily opened my eyes—

Ugh, the walls were so bright or was that the ceiling?

"What is the last thing you remember?"

I tried to find Dr. Crane for surely it was his voice I was hearing but I was unable to see anything aside from the bright glare of the tall ceiling.

"Revis?"

I closed my eyes before opening them once more, "S-Scarecrow..."

"Pity, it seems we'll have to continue the treatment."

Something wet yet thick was rubbed on either side of my temple. I furrowed my eyebrows wishing the sensation away but it persisted as the gel, oil, or whatever it was remained on my temples.

"Here you are now..." a thick wad of rolled up cotton was placed in front of my mouth. I pulled away from the itchy, warm fabric but Dr. Crane continued to speak, "Open your mouth so you don't bite off your tongue. After all, we wouldn't want you to swallow it."

I tried to turn my head away but suddenly hands were touching me—

Wonder what sort of crazy shit this guy does normally.

I mean, he pays well but I don't feel right about torturing such a pretty woman...Well, a dangerous woman. I mean she almost killed—

"Don't touch her—"

"But...Boss you wanted her to—"

In my moment of confusion Dr. Crane wrestled my jaw open although his hands felt strange—was he wearing gloves(?)—and unceremoniously stuffed the cotton wad into my mouth. I gagged at the dusty, mealy taste but found myself unable to move my arms.

Why hadn't I thought of that before?

I pulled on my restraints but the effort was futile.

"Most sessions are done with sedation in order to reduce the risk of broken bones and the like but these restraints are quite a pleasant alternative—Don't you agree, Revis?"

There were odd noises around me and while I knew they were preparing for something, I couldn't think of what—I couldn't even cry out.

Something else touched my temples, a light yet firm presence.

"Are you ready, Revis?"

I heard something click above my head before—

Blank.

My mind was wiped blank by the coursing shock.

Involuntarily, I tensed all my muscles, even my toes curled painfully.

I didn't register I had sprung off the bed only held down by my restraints until I stared at the man holding something to my head—

My eyes rolled back into my head as the feeling coursing through me increase—

…

"Was she supposed to pass out like that?" the same voice as before asked.

"I don't care, the bitch almost killed me," a newer, gruff voice replied.

"Aren't those treatments illegal these days?"

"What do you care? Before she was flipping a bitch over boogeymen in her room and now she's docile as a lamb."

I was laid down on a bed or so I assumed from the cushioned texture but my mind was too fuzzy to make out greater details.

"I think we should tie her up," the lighter, hesitant voice suggested.

"Why bother?" the gruff voice replied.

I opened my eyes slightly to look at the gruff voiced man...

He was dirty. He had stubble all over his face and hate in his eyes.

Dirty, dirty men.

"Look, she's waking up. Do you want to drag her everywhere when she panics? Just help me tie her up and—"

"Do what you want, I'm out of it. I better get paid—"

"Boss said not to talk about our job when we're around her."

I struggled to focus my eyes but felt too weak to do much of anything. Faintly, I registered a pulling sensation on my arms and legs but didn't pay too much attention to it. Giving into my exhaustion, I closed my eyes and fell into a deep slumber.

….

"Nicole..."

I tried to roll over and shield my ears from the horrible voice that sounded of crumbling city and the screams of burning hope but I found I was unable to move. More alert although still groggy, I pulled at my restraints. I even tried to slide my hands down far enough to twist them around in order to untie the binding leather but it was in vain.

"Nicole..."

The voice was as quiet as a whisper but chills broke out on my skin as if someone had screamed in my ear.

I turned my head as best as I was able to see some figure in the shadows.

My heart rate sped up as I recognized the melting face—or was it a face? Surely there had to be some organs behind the singed burlap and stuffed straw of the creature.

I knew struggling would be useless and I was defenseless but I still tried to think of ways to—

Was it moving?

Sure enough, the creature stiffly stood as if it had sticks for arms and legs; a terrible odor filled the room.

Rotting flesh, intestinal fluids, and the like were familiar smells to me but this...this was something fowl that felt like hot, thick sludge was being poured into my nostrils with each sharp breath I took.

Don't scream. Don't scream. Don't scream. Don't scream.

The creature extended a hooked hand to me.

If anything, the sight was disturbing as the spidery fingers moved jerkily, almost mechanically.

I was unprepared as the creature slowly walked toward me. Although the floors were padded, there seemed to be a squeaking then suction like noise as the thing made its journey to the bed.

Suddenly, its face was mere inches from mine.

I was frozen with fear as tears fell on either side of my face without my notice.

Don't scream. Don't scream. Don't scream. Don't scream.

The creature opened its mouth and—

AHHH!

The lights switched on and the creature disappeared but I was unable to stop screaming. I screamed and struggled against the bindings until I was hoarse and flushed from exertion.

Panting, almost whimpering, I struggled to find my mind.

What was happening? Those monsters—

Chills ran over my skin like tiny hooks of doubt cutting into my sanity, slowly tearing it apart with each sinister tug. My mind was washed asunder by the dizzying effect of abating fear but I tried to remember something, anything.

Monsters...There were monsters here.

Not just the staff at Arkham or the other inmates who I haven't seen as I've been in isolation, but actual creatures...but they only appeared when the lights were off.

The door to my cell opened and Dr. Crane stepped through.

I felt tears prickle at my eyes but I tried to keep my composure in front of him.

"I was called here immediately once the guards notified me you were out of control. What happened?"

I clenched my eyes and shook my head as tears escaped on either side of my face once more.

"Revis, you can tell me anything you like."

I didn't open my eyes but I managed to choke out something that mildly resembled a sentence, "T-There were, there were..." I shook my head, "Don't turn off the lights. Please, don't turn off the lights."

He sighed and I opened my eyes trying to blink away my tears so I would be able to see him clearly—

Why wasn't he wearing his glasses?

"The budget cuts on Arkham are distressing enough but even if we could afford to run the lights during your entire stay, it would hardly be productive to your treatment."

I sobbed, "N-No you don't understand. Don't turn off the lights."

He sighed and licked his lips before addressing me again in a condescending tone, "Now Revis, aren't you a bit old to be afraid of the boogeyman under the bed?"

I tried to glare at him but my anger quickly turned to desperation, "They're here. If you turn off the lights and you stay in here, they'll come."

He gave me a dry, sardonic look that normally would have me blushing with humiliation but it didn't faze me, "Stay in here and turn off the lights, you'll see them too!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose before responding, "You're hardly making any sense. One moment you want the lights on and the next—"

"Turn. Off. The. Lights." I said in a cold voice as I tried to mentally convey the importance of what I was trying to tell him with the intensity of my stare.

He kept his face blank, "Very well then," he walked to the door and paused, "I suppose it would only be beneficial for you to face your fears."

Without another word he stepped out of the room.

"No wait!" I called out once more pulling at the bindings but all too soon I was plunged in darkness.

I closed my eyes tightly, trying to wish away all sensations.

It wasn't dark; I merely had my eyes closed.

I felt a hot breeze settle throughout—

Was that mist?

I relaxed my eyelids...

No!

I squeezed them close tightly.

I wouldn't open my eyes.

An itching feeling spread throughout my body as something brushed against me—

No, block it out. It wasn't real. It wasn't real—

Wait, why did this feel familiar?

I frowned but a sharp tang of metal enveloped my taste buds as cold steel rested on my tongue.

Ignoring the impulse to struggle or open my eyes, I kept myself as still as possible, clenching my jaw even as the sharp metal cut its way through my mouth.

Shit! The pain, it hurts—

No, focus. This wasn't real—

Then what was it?

The metal hit the back of my throat through my closed mouth but continued to mark it up.

I gagged and sputtered but only succeeded in tearing my mouth apart.

Don't scream—

Why would I? It's not real. It's not real.

I opened my eyes as the sharp metal went through the back of my throat and—

Suddenly, I couldn't feel my body.

Dammit my eyes were open, why couldn't I close my eyes? The fact that I could breathe, even if I had(?) severed my spinal cord meant that I should still be able to control my eyes.

Fuck, I needed to close my eyes before—

Mist, red mist...

I stared wordlessly at the red mist that filled the air.

What was this? If it was dark how would I be able to see red mist?

A feeling of revulsion hit my stomach as I realized that wasn't mist...it was eyes.

Eyes that glowed red; mist that was saliva—

Then what was...

Was the metal was a funnel?!

I tried to close my eyes to block out the sight but they remained open. I was paralyzed as the rats lined up and began to crawl into my mouth, one by one, undoubtedly chewing through my organs in order to make room as they burrowed deeper inside...