Chapter 7: City Of Fear

Doctor Jonathan Crane was doing his rounds in the intensive treatment building of Arkham Asylum, as per usual. Examining patients, doing paperwork, cleaning his office. He hated these menial tasks that came with the territory, but he very much enjoyed working on his experiments. Experiments that were not exactly sanctioned by the Chief of Psychiatry, Professor Hugo Strange, but as long as no-one found out about them, nothing could happen to him. These experiments involved taking low-level patients for 'routine medical examinations', and taking them into the abandoned Jeremiah Arkham wing of the intensive treatment building. There, he would perform cruel and traumatic 'treatment' on the patients, focusing on fear and how the body reacts to it.

In order to induce fear in his patients, Crane devised a special chemical, which he dubbed 'fear toxin', which makes people see, feel, hear, or otherwise witness their greatest fears. Crane found that the most common fears were failure, spiders, heights, death, and snakes. He found these discoveries fascinating, and wondering endlessly how he could use this information in further experiments.

Patients were left scarred and tormented for months after Crane's experiments, only calming down when having been prescribed extreme antianxiety medications. Strange suspected that this was simply the effect of locking people in a 6 by 9 cell with no windows and no human contact for 23 hours a day, with nothing to keep the mind occupied. This was purposeful of Crane, who planned the experiments close to the assumed time it would take each patient to go insane. Moreso than when they were admitted.

Crane had despised authority all his life, stemming from his childhood trauma of bullying and unfair treatment at school. He longed for a state of anarchy, with no hierarchy of power, and he planned to get what he wanted. He knew he would have to use his vast knowledge of the human mind to get what he wanted, as he was in a good bit less than peak physical condition. He was tall, skinny, and lanky, with a gaunt face and hunched posture. Patients he had previously experimented on showed a severe aversion to Crane, even down to the mentioning of his name.
Professor Strange called him into his office one day, to Crane's surprise. Strange's frosted glasses and wide smile had long uneased Crane, to the point where he actively avoided him. His voice was possibly the most unnerving part of Strange, with his long drawn out words and his pseudo-posh English accent, "Doctor Crane. How have you been? I see very little of you these days." Crane feigned politeness, "I've been good, thank you for asking. Busying myself with work, I'm afraid. Not much time for formalities, unfortunately." Strange smacked his lips, "Ah, yes, of course. Do not feel bad, I understand completely." Crane felt as if this was sarcastic, but he could not be sure. Strange stood up from his chair and looked out the window towards Gotham, "The city has gone to the dogs. Criminals aplenty."

Crane grunted agreeably, and stood up to join him at the window, "I agree. People need something to fear." Professor Strange nodded, "Quite. This Batman figure is exactly what the city needs. I've been rather obsessed with the man in recent months." Crane recoiled, "I'm not a huge fan of him myself. Too much power." Strange inhaled loudly, "Yes, of course. You have a problem with power, don't you? That's why you've been avoiding me, isn't it?" Crane stood up straight, "Yes. I find authority to be an evolutionary flaw in humans. If we're the most advanced creatures, then why do we still resort to hierarchy?" Strange smiled, "An interesting theory. However, if you do not like power, then why do you abuse yours among the patients housed here?"

Crane stepped back, in shock of Strange's knowledge. Strange smile widened, "Oh, yes. I know of your little laboratory in the abandoned wing. Of your experiments on the patients. You have sent many a person mad, you know. Halted their chances of ever becoming rehabilitated ever again. Ruined their lives." Crane hunched over again and lowered his head, "I'm sorry, Professor. I never thought you'd find out." Strange did not seem angry, however, "I am rather impressed by your intuition and the nature of your experiments. In fact, I approve of these experiments you're doing. I'd like to introduce you to a few of my own personal experiments. I would love to have you working alongside me, as a partner, rather than as a subordinate." Crane raised his head and creased his eyebrows, "What kind of experiments?" Strange's smile seemed to widen farther than his face would allow, "Let me show you..."

Strange led Crane through the cramped, crumbling hallways of Arkham Asylum. As they entered the underground tunnels linking each of the buildings on the island, Crane began to wonder exactly what kind of experiments Strange was performing if he agreed with Crane's self-admitted cruel tests. Instead of turning into one of the many bends in the tunnel, he walked up to a blank wall, and pressed one of the bricks into the wall. Crane was very confused and thought Crane had gone mad, but he was quickly put in his place when a large collection of bricks slowly dropped into the floor, revealing an elevator embedded into the tunnel wall. Crane was cautious but also excited as to what he was about to be seen. They stepped inside and the elevator doors shut as it started

When the elevator reached the bottom of the track, the door opened, revealing a long, white hallway with a seemingly unending set of black, steel doors adorning either side of the hallway in regular increments. At the end of the hallway, it seemed to split into a Y-junction, with two hallways stretching out of the first hallway. Crane found himself less excited, more concerned as this tour went on and on. As they stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hallway, Crane eyed what was going on in the rooms through the doors' small, rectangular windows.
He saw things he thought people could only see through his own fear toxin. People with scales, people with horrible burns, people with spikes, people with bird feet, people with feathers. People screaming, people crying, people laughing, people dying. Crane felt as if his experiments were not as cruel as what was going on in this basement. Not by a long shot.

Strange turned on his heels halfway down the hallway, "What do you think, Doctor?" Crane took a deep breath, "What are you doing down here?" Strange chuckled, "We're doing humanity a favour. Keeping the dirty stuff down here, so that no-one has to see it. But I assume that was not the meaning of your question." Crane smiled, more than a bit pissed at the Professor's sarcastic tone. Strange straightened his shoulders and turned once again, walking down the hallway, "This is Pinewood Farms. A secret project of mine. Here, we are testing the limits of the human body. Testing DNA manipulation. Testing experimental methods of resurrection."

Crane quickly became confused as to why there had been no rumours or anything about this place, considering the vast amount of people it must take to keep a place like this running. He sped up his walking pace to bring himself beside Strange, "Why are you telling me this?" Strange turned towards him, and pointed to an open, empty cell behind him, because this is your new home. Two orderlies suddenly jumped towards Crane, wrapping their arms around him and dragging him into the cell, kicking and screaming. As they dropped him onto a rock-hard bed, and tied his arms and legs to restrain him, Strange walked into the room, "I had a few of my men find your little lab. They... retrieved... a bit of your special formula. Delightful stuff. I made them synthesize a large quantity of it. I hope you don't disagree with our usage of it in our own little experiments." Crane was speechless, seething with anger. Strange's smile widened to possibly the widest Crane had ever seen, "You'll soon see what torture you've subjected many patients to."

As Strange and the orderlies left the room and sealed the door, a dark, orange gas emptied itself slowly from the vents. As Crane realised what was happening, he screamed the loudest he'd ever screamed, and kicked as hard as he'd ever kicked, trying to get away from the formula he'd used to torment so many people in the recent past. As he breathed in his first few lungfuls of his toxin, the room began to pulsate and turn a deep shade of red. A dark, stringy figure kept appearing out of the corner of Crane's vision. As his eyes darted back and forth across the padded room, he began to get more and more clear sights of the figure.

He closed his eyes, tensed his body, and pushed his head back into his pillow. 'It's just a hallucination. It's not real. Don't get scared,' he kept repeating to himself. He finally thought he had calmed down, but when he opened his eyes, the figure was standing over him, its dark, lanky appendages looming above his torso. Crane started screaming again, louder than before. The creature hunched over, bringing it's face into the light, with two large eyes and a gaping mouth, nothing more. He knew the toxin made people see their greatest fears, but he had never thought about what he had feared the most...

Scarecrows.