A/N: Part two of this dark story in time for Halloween. How exciting but what else should I do to celebrate Spooky season? Working on my other Crane/Oc most likely. As always please read, like, review, or whatever you enjoy. Also a warning for uh...abusive themes.
Her eyes were facing the mirror with a contemplative look in this dingy hotel. The pale yellow light above her flickered three times before stabilizing into a low level light. The rainbow colored hair was sticking up at odd angles while the bags under her eyes were noticeable. Pale skin looked a little waxy but she was never one for make up. Her green eyes moved to the hand shaped bruise around her throat. The remnants of Scarecrow's wounded pride. A soft finger pressed on the outside of the bruise and the tingling of pain was attractive. She was fucked up wasn't she? Enjoying pressing a man she should fear. Or maybe she just enjoyed rougher actions by a future lover.
Nygma's teases had never ended and the idea was infecting her brain. It was not an unattractive idea to be his Mistress of Fear. Her pale cheeks flushed a shade of pink as her pastel rainbow colored hair shook with her motion. Banish that thought to the depths and she jumped out of her skin as a fist hit the door. "Not planning to cut yourself are you dear?" The mocking voice of Edward Nygma cut into her thoughts.
"Well you did say there is a tracker in my arm, Mr. Nygma," she answered in but a croak. Her neck was bruised after all and it did hurt to speak. Morbidly she wondered on what else the thin man was going to do to her. She had no self control when it came to needling the pride of her captor. "I was wondering what pictures to paint in my blood," she added in the same morbid sense of humor. A muffled laugh reached her ears and the hiss of the tall man in question. The words were not clear to her as her finger traced the mark of his finger on the side of her throat.
The flush activated and she opened the door with barely a glance. The click of the light bathing her back in darkness as she stepped back into the hotel room. The thug, Cyrus, leaned against the hotel door with a sneer. A holster hidden inside of his coat clearly shown with his unfriendly sneer. Her eyes moved from the thug to stare at the Master of Fear. The chair Riddler had once sat on during breakfast was vacated for the thin man. His own sleeves were rolled up to his elbows to show bony arms corded with muscle. It summoned the vision of his hand around her throat in startling detail. The flash of almost pleasure was an odd feeling but not unwelcome. Glasses slipped down his nose as his eyes glared at her. The eyes went from her face to her bruised pale throat though he made no reaction.
A flash of something in his eyes but she could not tell if it was regret or something else. She doubted it was regret. Edward Nygma's smile was mocking as he motioned to the bed. On steady steps she moved towards the bed and sat in front of the Master of Fear. A smirk directed at him but she said nothing as she watched the book tighten in his hands. The book that held her trials with his formula to make it into a profitable drug. The journal slapped on the desk as blue eyes met her own. A sneer on his face but deep in those blue eyes she saw intrigue. "Let me see your arms," the Master of Fear ordered and she tilted her head before offering her right arm palm up.
The skin was flawless and pale from a life spent indoors. The fingers wrapping around the skin were long and cold on the flesh as he pulled it close. The pale white lines of scars past decorated her arm in small faded lines. The damage had been faint enough to barely be noticeable. The thumb rubbing on her skin was calloused but gentle in action. A shudder left her before his hand tightened on her skin. "A morbid joke with an element of truth," he muttered and his face leaned over her own. The height difference was quite annoying but to be expected. "Not suicidal. Wanting attention?"
"They would be bigger and more scarred than they are," she answered in response with a similar blank tone. "I was curious what it felt like." An odd statement to say outloud but understanding lit up his eyes. The small hum leaving his throat was masculine and curious but she stayed still. Zofia was interested in the Master of Fear and loved to watch those long fingers move. Even if they ended up bruising her skin. "No one will come for me," she stated in a soft whisper and the man sneered in response. His lips pulled down to show sharp white teeth.
The bridge of his nose this close was obviously not set properly after one too many breaks. Dr. Jonathan Crane was an interesting man if not the most attractive. It was his mind that drew her interest and, perhaps worse of all, his insanity drew her attraction. "Do you undervalue your own self, Zofia?" He asked with a tone to flay her motives. To cut to the heart of who she was. He was trying to press and slice to understand her psyche. To understand something was to control it and he obviously wanted to control it.
She traced the lines on his fingers as they stayed gripping her arm. Her eyes moving to catch the motion of him pushing up the glasses over his nose. A casual movement that was interesting to watch. The bones under his skin shifting this way and that were curious. She was enraptured like a cat watching scurrying mice. A click of a tongue against teeth brought her green eyed gaze to meet Scarecrow's own. "You act as if I did not plan this beforehand," she stated simply though the flash of almost irritation drew her attention.
"Did you?" He asked as he pulled her closer by the tight grip of his fingers. Her pale flesh indented with the nerves crying out in pain at the feel. Her eyes tracked it until suddenly the tall man stood up. Her arm pulled and she scrambled to her feet in result. "Or are you just posturing?" His voice was cold and almost mocking. The over extension of her arm was concerning but the tingle of pain was secondary as she kept his stare. "If no one comes for you then we will leave for Gotham," he added as his other hand moved. Rough fingertips glided down her cheek and chin as she kept his stare.
Her skin prickled at the almost gentle touch as her shoulder ached. The dichotomy was an interesting experience but she kept her mouth closed in a firm line. The bruises on her neck not helping but she knew better than to press at the fragile psyche of the super villain. His hands released her suddenly and instinctively she rolled her shoulder to ease the ache. Green eyes met her own as she moved to adjust herself on the bed. Falling back on it as she kept the same silence as before. "Well I am excited for the next twist of this story!" The Riddler called with his lips quirked into an arrogant smirk.
The blue glare of her captor was to be expected as well as the hiss of air between his teeth. Her throat bobbed in her swallow and a flinch came from the agitated bruises on her neck. She watched him and the sunlight trickling in through dusty blinds.
Richards Estate
Los Angeles, California
Evangeline Richards stared down at the man crying on the marble floors with a flick of disinterest. Her eyes meeting the dark brown of the tall man in a suit. Her driver, bodyguard, and leader of foot soldiers for their, frankly daring, plan to market a drug way too similar to normal fear toxin. The house was thankfully empty of anyone that would notice or care about the man crying on her floor. "Explain to me again what happened," she ordered though her head pounded from the migraine brewing behind her eyelids.
Her blue eyes meeting the brown of Nathaniel as they silently talked through body language cues and pointed stares. The man on the floor shivered and shook from what she took to be actual fear toxin. Zofia hadn't had to experiment with the chemical in months since she decoded the formula for their own gain. Jerry shivered and looked up at the both of them with a tear stricken face that was more pathetic than heart wrenching in all honesty. "A man showed interest in selling the drug further than we had," the man blubbered as his hands covered his heaving chest. "I was trying to impress all of you by getting the deal. They wanted to meet the Chemist. Scarecrow he..."
The wide eyed hysteria and shaking of limbs was enough to fill in the gaps. Eva grabbed her drink and took a sip in an attempt to ease the splitting headache. Nathaniel tightened his hand into a fist near the spot where she knew his gun was hidden. They were a small gang but had painstakingly carved out territory. It had all been helped by her financial support and being old money. They worked well together. Nathaniel had the street smarts and the training. Evangeline had the money and the connections. Zofia had the genius and the drug cooking knowledge to make it all work. "So you allowed Scarecrow to abscond with our drug maker?" She asked blankly as a well manicured finger pointed at the man in irritation.
"I am so sorry," Jerry cried out as his hands covered his face and head. His body still tremoring from a night with the insane psychiatrist with a sadistic streak. Her blue eyes went to Nathaniel whose facial expressions barely even twitched in response. Black strands of hair graced his tan face but his face stayed noticeably unemotional. Evangeline rubbed her forehead as her nail tapped at the flesh. Ideas came and went as she considered how best to fix this situation. "I can fix this!" Jerry called as he twitched at their silence.
Evangeline moved to put the other leg over the other as she stared down at the man. A fine black eyebrow raised in a mocking look that was engrained in her. Blue eyes met cold brown as a snort left her. "By what? Rescuing Zofia from the insane bastard who captured her?" Her whole voice was mocking. Nathaniel hid a smile behind a leather clad hand. Jerry looked like he was about to cry even more as watery eyes stared at her. Two fingers of her right hand rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "No," she ordered with a sigh. "It's too risky."
"Too risky?" A voice called breaking the silence and blue eyes looked at the man who interrupted. White tips on black roots rested in a Mohawk as he glared at her before glaring at all three of them. A gun easily seen in his holster on top of knives. "Zofia is captured and you call it too risky?!" He growled out as the richly designed door slammed shut behind him. His form full of lean muscle and the line of tattoos covered his left arm. Nathaniel tensed in obvious desire to protect her as she stared at the interloper. Jerry stayed shivering on his knees.
"What would you have me do?" She asked in a hiss as her hand smacked the arm of her chair. "Sacrifice everything on the chance of saving her? We need to be smart, Seven." The man in question glared at her with a look of hot blooded rashness. Evangeline Richards just knew that her life was going to become needlessly complicated as she tried to rescue her best friend from the clutches of the Scarecrow. A slim hand covered her face as a groan met the palm of her hand.
Zofia stared up at the roof of the hotel in perfect silence as she let consciousness crash on her. The room was quiet with no scratching of pencils or whispered conversations. Her last memory being of drifting off into a light sleep as the tense situation faded away. She was still a prisoner and captured by the last people she should have expected. Or perhaps she did expect this. Getting captured by the Master of Fear had always been a probable situation. So was him just sending a hit squad after them. He personally chose to deal with it though. He chose to deal with her. The probable threat to him. She could feel someone was in the room.
Her head shifted to see the suited man sitting in a chair next to her. One long leg resting over the other as a book rested in his hands. His index finger was long as it rested up the spine of the book. "Where is...?" She started to ask. The croak of her voice was slightly concerning but then again she held his bruises around her neck. The book moved and blue eyes stared at her from behind simple frames. His face carefully blank as he stared at her. She could feel his eyes brush over her as she refused to move more than needed.
"It was his turn to collect food," his voice was calm and collected though a sneer was hidden in the tone. The oozing feeling of dislike radiated from the thin man sitting over her bed. "I expected more hysteria," he observed and she shifted to sit against the headboard. The fluffy hotel pillow quickly pulled against her chest. Fingers squeezed against the feathery and poofy pillow to distract herself.
"He said the same the first time I woke up," she muttered with a wry grin. The lips of her captor twitched before turning down into a firm line.
"And what knowledge did Nygma have to share last?" He remarked dryly. Morbid curiosity had her opening her mouth to respond. The mad doctor made his dislike of her very obvious. Or perhaps she just caught him off balance. Not at all what he expected from someone stealing his formula. She truly hoped that Evangeline would be smart enough not to attempt anything. She had no desire to watch her friends tortured and killed just to give Jonathan Crane power over her.
"Mainly about how I am your perfect partner," she stated finally with a morbid and wry sense of humor. She expected him to blow up again in response. "Your future Mistress of Fear," she added as she watched his face twitch even more noticeably into a sneer. A look of revulsion that almost covered up the slight pink on his cheeks at the mention.
"Nygma never could learn to shut his mouth," he remarked with a scowl as blue eyes sharpened into focus on her form. A look that almost made her feel small in response. "Perhaps one day," he added with a hum as he watched her. Such a statement almost knocked her off kilter as well as the wistful tone. Her green eyes blinked in answer as she hoped her own cheeks did not flush. A wish that was dashed as he smoothly stood to step closer. Domineering eyes stared down at her with an unreadable look. He was playing with her and manipulating her. To press and slice as she did earlier.
She froze to the spot as his fingers moved to the soft skin of her face. They shifted slowly to the bruises on her neck with a feather light touch. Her skin tingled in the echoes of pain as she kept his stare unshaken. "Once I break you," he murmured as his thumb rested under her lip on her chin. The tightening of his fingers on her chin had her both flinching and leaning into the touch. Green eyes never wavered from the cruel stare above her. "You are mine regardless, Zofia," he whispered almost intimate if not for the statement. "Mine to break and destroy. You will regret trifling with me."
"I am not afraid of you, Crane," she answered in perhaps her most foolish statement yet. He was terrifying but to her he was beautiful. She expected pain or for him to lose control at her statement. Instead his smile widened and he pulled her closer as the pillow dropped from her arms.
"You will, my dear," he whispered softly to her. She could taste and smell cinnamon on his breath. His lips tickling her own in an almost kiss. A manipulation that she strongly resisted. "You will." Though her eyes stayed resting on his own. Before curiosity got the best of her and she memorized his face. High cheekbones, thin lips, and a nose that might have been too large. The odd break from not setting properly. Her captor was not attractive by a conventional sense but his intelligence was enough. "You are but a student learning the paths of fear," he added as his eyes danced across her face.
"Is that an offer to teach me than, Scarecrow?" She asked and his lips separated. This close she could see his lips were chapped and dry. The glasses slipped down his nose as those crystal blue eyes met her own. The chuckle that left him was dry and almost disturbing. As if sandpaper ran over her skin but she stopped herself from shying away from it.
"Perhaps once I control your willful attitude, Zofia," he answered before his hand pet her cheek idly. Her skin prickled at the gentle touch as she refused to struggle away. She would let him touch her as he liked as she observed the proper path to take. "First I need to destroy everything you hold dear," he added in almost a murmur as delight lit up his eyes at the thought. The Scarecrow was a monster and she should have known better.
"If you wanted me all to yourself you should have said so," she croaked out in a tease that lacked her previous mocking bite. Unlike his explosion of cold anger and a hand latching on her throat he only smiled. Cold and cruel with a mocking edge as his finger pushed up the glasses. The same hand moved to run the back of his hand on her cheek. Gentle and soft which was at odds with his other demeanor. She expected him to hurt her again. What she did not expect was the explosion of green mist out of his sleeve. The mist burned the back of her throat as her body coughed instinctively to expell the poison making its way to her brain.
"Let me test your self proclaimed enjoyment of my product, my dear," his voice distorted in her ears as the toxin cleaved into her body. Her blood rushed and the world distorted with it as she fell back on her arms. The bed was soft and comfortable before it shifted to a fleshy feeling. The world around her breathed as insects and snakes wrapped around her limbs. The light of the world faded as the rustle of cloth trickled into her overactive mind. The twisted form of his mask meeting her eyes to show the demon. The ichor of the world around her squeezed in with black water. It dived into her lungs as she felt suffocated. "That's it," he whispered as his hand distorted into freakishly long claws that reached for her.
Her lower lip quivered but no scream left her mouth as she stared up at him. The demon that leaned over her body that was hard to move. The drugs that made up the chemical make up left her weak. As they were supposed too with a shivering of limbs. Though fear burned through her mind and body enjoyment followed just as quickly. The knife edge of excitement and fear. As if she was at the top of a roller coaster and about to go down the first hill. Instead of a scream a laugh left her as her fingers latched onto the sleeve closest to her. The itch of insects crawled under her clothes and through her skin. The water drowned her as a demon held her down. A whine of disappointment left her as the drug faded back to normal.
Blue eyes behind a stitched together mask was watching her with an odd expression in his eyes. Her fingers ran over the white sleeve in her grip as the sensations of the fabric fused with her high. "I always preferred intravenous," she stated as she kept her eyes shut. Nausea and dizziness infecting her to fight against the pleasure. "It is concentrated and lasts longer," she added with another chuckle. Rough fingertips moved from her cheek to press at her pulse though he said nothing.
She could feel him lean over her and it would be wrong appearance wise if Riddler returned with food. "What did you do to test it till it was workable?" He asked and her eyes cracked open. The piercing of the light had her squinting to stare up at him. His hand lingered over her bruised neck as his fingers tested her pulse.
"What you did, Scarecrow," she answered with a wide smile. "I experimented. I used it on my own gang members until the chemical worked. Then curiosity made me try it myself." Blue eyes kept her stare though his head tilted as he watched her. The mask blocking all but his eyes and mouth from view. A monster and a demon but she would be lying if this form did not make her body yearn for more. She had accepted a long time ago she was never normal.
His masked face leaned closer as she heard his breath hit the mask. Black was swallowing the blue as he leaned closer. Whatever action he was going to do was ended as the click of the door had them freezing. "Well well," the mocking nasally voice of Edward Nygma cut the air with the rustle of plastic bags. "I hate I missed the latest twist of the romance, Jonathan." Her head moved back against the white hotel blanket to see the Prince of Puzzles. The thug next to him was doing everything to avoid staring at them together. She heard the Master of Fear growl as his body tensed above her. His hand resting heavily on her throat as she looked back up at him. The pink her cheeks became brighter at the situation as her limbs shook without her control