Happy late Thanksgiving guys. I tried to upload this Thanksgiving day, but the servers bugged out and kept resetting so I couldn't upload this chapter in time. Heck, it was slated for an earlier date on Halloween Night, but school and trick-or-treaters got in the way as well. I will try to have another chapter out by Christmas, but I can't guarantee anything right now with the way school is going. Hopefully, once the holidays come around and finals are passed, I can get back to working on this story.
Scarecrow crawled through the vents, nervously looking over his shoulder every so often to make sure that Zsasz hadn't stuck a knife in between his shoulders. He could still hear the demented man chanting his mantra behind him, his tone monotonous, but his voice soft as they crept silently towards the outside.
"Would you stop that?" he hissed, annoyed by the constant chanting. He would have taken Tetch over Zsasz any day. At least with Tetch there was no paranoia over having the Hatter planting a sharp object in his back.
Zsasz didn't appear to have even heard him. All that existed to him were the itching in his skin and the knives in his hand, his bare skin screaming and throbbing for want of a cut, but it remained unanswered. He continued to chant, his eyes clouded with delusion.
Crane rolled his eye, continuing his crawl. He was just about to head for where he knew the ventilation shaft ended outside the building through the X-Ray room when he heard a familiar voice.
"How goes the progress on the TITAN project, Dr. Young?" said the deep, distinctive voice of Warden Sharp, adjusting his tie as he leaned on his cane, slightly limping along on his right leg. From Crane's vantage point, he could only see the top of the man's bald head, but he could imagine seeing the perpetual frown line the man's face.
"Not good, Mr. Sharp. The sample we've taken from the Scarecrow seems to have helped stabilize the Venom, but the test subjects we have been experimenting on have only lasted a few hours before their heart explodes from the strain," she replied, looking over her notes, flipping a few of them as she looked over the results recorded. "Unfortunately, without something to prevent spasms in the coronary arteries, we'll be unable to reach our goal."
Crane froze, his eyes darting to his right arm. Rolling up his sleeve, he could see the faint pinprick from where they drew his blood. So that's why they've been so interested in studying me. They must want to recreate the effects of my transformation on some of the more mentally insane patients here. But why? What would they have to gain?
"Ohhh, tender, soft flesh," Zsasz cooed, licking his lips as he eyed the pretty doctor from his slice of the vent grate, his hands shaking in anticipation for the next cut. "So juicy, so sweet. I must have—ack!" he was cut off by Crane grasping him by his padlocked collar.
"Not. Another. Word. Out of you," he hissed, pulling the leather tight around the maniac's neck, his shimmering amber eyes narrowing pointedly. "Understand?"
Zsasz nodded quickly, letting out a soft gasp as Scarecrow released the leather, causing it to painfully snap across his neck. He rubbed at the sore flesh, his lips curled into a snarl as he followed Crane as the man made his way away from the pretty lady psychologist and towards the outside grating. Soon, once this job was over, he was going to make that smug strawman pay for keeping him from his prey.
Becky let out a sigh of relief as she entered the Botanical Garden, thankful that her reasonable excuse had gotten her past the guards. As she walked past the entrance and into the glasshouse portion of the gardens, she couldn't help but wonder if it was wise splitting up like this, especially with Zsasz added to the mix.
Really, I have to question why he's even teaming up with that maniac to begin with, she thought, her cane held in a death grip inside her purse. If there was a reason for Batman to make an exception for his no-kill rule, then it would definitely be for him. She shook her head. She needed to stay focused. They only had a three hours left until sunrise, and their chances of escaping were shrinking with every minute they continued to stay. Splitting up would help cover more ground and divide the guards in their chase, as well as giving them more time to place the trophies before time was up.
Walking into the glasshouse, she only stopped to plant one of her trophies under the floor tiles before heading forwards once more. But just as she walked near the tall, ornate fountain in the center of the room, she felt like something in the air smell…wrong. She didn't know how she could differentiate this smell from the overpowering scent of blooming flowers, but she could just barely pick up on it. It didn't smell like the other flowery scents, but something sickly-sweet, like the smell of disinfectant and cooking oil.
Becky knew something was definitely up. Disinfectants, from what she recalled from Ivy's lecture, were generally pesticides if they were used around plants. And she was sure that the Arkham staff knew better than to spray pesticides everywhere, especially with Ivy still locked up and capable of breaking out of her cell at any time she wanted. Not to mention someone wouldn't have cooking oil in a greenhouse unless they were planning to start a fire.
With that in mind, she started up the ladder, closing her eyes as she tried to focus on the scent. Seeing a door marked SECTION CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE she hesitantly opened the door, looking around to make sure no staff were currently roaming the hallway before continuing onward. She paused as she walked towards another room, sniffing the air. The smell was definitely getting stronger.
Racing forward, she screeched to a halt as she reached a dead end at the Generator room, her determined expression slowly slipping into one of confusion. That smell was at its strongest here, yet there was no evidence of any of the chemicals that would give off such a smell.
She frowned. There had to be a reason the trail stopped here. Was she just imagining things? Was the smell just one of the various hallucinations that she had been experiencing lately? She had no idea about anything anymore in this crazy place.
She was just about to give up and head out when she was snapped out of her revelry by a lone maintenance worker, wheeling his cart out of a small door to her right. He appeared Hispanic in descent, with a neatly groomed painter's mustache between his nose and mouth and tired, brown eyes that drooped due to the early hours. He had a patch on his uniform which read ANTONIO.
He raised a bushy eyebrow as he pushed his cart to a halt. "Ma'am, are you lost?" he asked in his thick, Spanish accent, exhaustion evident in his voice.
Becky perked up as she saw he was addressing her. "Um, maybe a little. I thought I smelled something similar to bleach and oil while I was walking towards the gardens, and I decided to investigate. You don't happen to have anything like that on your cart, do you?"
The man looked confused, shaking his head. "No. And I don't recall smelling anything of that sort when I entered."
This time, it was her turn to look confused. "What do you mean? I know the flowers are kind of overpowering, but you must've smelled that weird smell while you were in the garden, at least?"
The blank look she was given was not the answer she was looking for.
"Look, forget about the smell, did you see anything suspicious around here lately? Anything that shouldn't belong in the gardens? Please, er—" she paused to glance at the patch— "Antonio, I know you may think I'm crazy, but something is very wrong here, and I want to find out why," she pleaded, hoping that the man would believe her. She knew that she sounded crazy, and her torn uniform and disheveled appearance didn't help her case, but she was desperate for answers. She needed to know why she was reacting this way, why she was able to heal so quickly, why she was able to outrun and overpower Croc with just her bare hands, and why she was having these hallucinations and odd feelings.
The man sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Look, I may have seen something while I was in the back."
Becky instantly perked up, hazel eyes brightening. "What was it?" she asked quickly, hope starting to spark in her heart.
He shrugged. "When I was scrubbing the floor near the back, I saw a bit of glowing green residue on the ground. Maybe that's what you're looking for."
"Do you know what it is?"
Antonio shrugged, rubbing his hands against a wet towel. "How should I know? I'm just the janitor here. If you really want to know, just ask the Warden."
Becky smiled. "Well, thank you anyway," she said, rushing towards the door leading out of the room.
The man just sighed, shaking his head as he tiredly pushed the cart forward.
Crane scowled as he looked up towards the mansion, his brow furrowed in concentration. He had suspected that the front entrance would be guarded, but he had not expected that half of Arkham's security would be parked against the door. On the balcony above the entrance, two snipers, peeking through their guns' scopes, surveyed the area around the entryway, their fingers itching against the trigger of their rifles as the glowing dots of their scopes flickering as they drifted along the dead grass and scraggy bushes. The rest of the guards were positioned in front of the door, electrified batons held out carefully in front of them, as they searched the shadows for any movement.
"Are we going to liberate them, huh, Crane? Please let me liberate them from their meaningless existence," he pleaded, practically drooling at the thought of such fresh, young blood flowing from their sliced necks, his eyes glimmering in anticipation as he shivered excitedly.
"Shush!" Scarecrow hissed, freezing as the scopes briefly pointed in their direction for a few moments, before slowly drifting back into place. After a few more movements of stillness, Crane lifted his finger from his lips as he whispered, "Yes, you will soon enough. But first, I need you to distract the guards in front of the door." He took a small ball out of his pocket, holding it between his fingers carefully. "Now, listen carefully, I need you to- "he was interrupted as Zsasz flicked the ball out of his fingers, sending it flying right into the guards' faces as Crane just stared with shocked, wide eyes.
"Look out!" the guard's cried, shooting the ball just as it exploded in their face, sending them scattering as Zsasz screamed with delight, leaping into the fray, his smile a mile wide as his knives gleamed in the moonlight.
Crane stood dazed for a moment, before shaking his head and skirting around the fight, using the smoke from his bomb to shadow him from the snipers as he crept away from the fray, his tattered cape swishing just a little bit behind him as he entered the mansion.
Becky ducked around the corner as two guards streaked past her, watching warily as they scanned their surroundings, their flashlights coming dangerously close to her location.
"You sure she's in here, Frank? She could still be with Scarecrow in the Medical building," one of the guards spoke nervously, tapping his foot rapidly in nervous anxiety.
The guard with a scar on his left eye, who she presumed to be Frank, just scowled, shushing the other guard harshly. "She's here, all right. The cameras near the entrance caught her coming inside about thirty minutes ago. And since we haven't heard anything from the guards in the front, she's still inside."
Becky cursed silently, inching slowly forward to the grate in the wall, holding her breath as the Frank's flashlight nearly caught the hem of her skirt. If there were guards at the gate, she would have to find another entrance outside. And this Frank guy, whoever he was, seemed a least a little bit smarter than he looked, so she would need to be careful. Spotting a grate at the edge of the wall nearby, she pulled on the grate, sending the rusting metal screeching as it popped off the wall.
Immediately, the flashlights pointed towards the grate, the sound of footsteps coming closer as Becky hastily backed into her previous position, praying for her heart to stop beating so loudly in her chest as they came just a few inches away from her position. She could try to make a run for it, but from the pounding footsteps coming from the back of the room, she needed to act quickly.
"Do you think she went in there?" the younger guard asked, on his knees as he peered into the small grate.
Frank knelt down as the other guard scooted out of the way, shining his flashlight into the vent. "I don't know. She could be in there, or she could still be hiding in this room. Either way, let's— "he was interrupted by a sharp smack as Becky swung at him with her cane, the metal stick smacking Frank in the jaw as she elbowed the younger guard out of the way, taking the man by surprise as she dashed into the vent with almost inhuman speed, vanishing from his sight before he could draw his pistol.
"She got away!" the man cried, cursing as he grabbing his flashlight as he tried to peer into the shaft.
"Leave it!" Frank growled, rubbing his jaw as two other senior guards arrived at his location. "Just get moving towards the back. We can't let her breach the factory."
"You heard him, men. Spread out and if you see anyone even resembling Becky Albright, we shoot on sight," one of the older guards growled, gesturing for his men to follow him as they marched towards the back of the garden.
Frank, however, stayed behind. "I know you're in there, little witch. And when I find you, I'm going to make sure that there's nothing left of you to bury," he snarled into the shaft, before leaving to catch up with the others.
Becky released her held breath as she heard Frank stomp away, thanking whatever powers that be that he wasn't coming in after her. Something didn't seem right with that guy, and not just because of the stale smell of alcohol on his breath.
She shook her head. It didn't matter right now. She only had two hours left until sunrise and she needed to lay down the last of her trophies before she could meet up with Jonathan. Perhaps along the way she could figure out what they were hiding in that factory.
Looking around at the crumpled ruins around her, she started to grin. This place will do perfectly, she thought, pulling out one of the trophies from her pack as she climbed up the steps.
Crane let out a grin as he sauntered through the door, seeing no sign of guards anywhere in the building. It seems the good Warden didn't think to plan ahead for this scenario, he thought, casting a glance behind him as his long legs took the steps two at a time as he ascended the stairs, leaning in as he slowly peaked his head through the large, bronze doors. Finding the cost clear, he poked his head back in before pushing open the doors.
"So far, so good," he murmured to himself, leaping over the metal detector booth and onto the opposite side, brushing a bit of dirt from his costume. "Now, if I were hiding a secret formula, where would I put it?"
He thought of the safe in Dr. Young's office, but shook his head. No, she probably already knew that he was on the loose and already took it out. And it couldn't be on her person either, as she probably wouldn't want anyone to get a hold of it, if it was as classified as he suspected. But then where would it be hidden?
"Stumped, Johnny-boy?"
He glanced behind him to find his doppelganger idly tapping his syringed claws against a filing cabinet, the clinking of metal against metal echoing loudly against the silence of the lobby.
"I'm not stumped," Crane protested, letting out a loud huff as he glared at the figment. "I'm just thinking of other options for where that darn formula could be."
"Right," he quipped sarcastically, his fingers stopping their clinking as he gripped the file cabinet.
"Well, then if you're so smart, where do you think that woman put it then, hmm?" he snapped.
The doppelganger chuckled, slowly creeping up to his creator. "Really, I thought you would be smart enough to figure this out. But fine, if I were to hide a scrap of paper with important information, what better way than to hide it with thousands of other papers."
Crane's eyebrows rose as he realized what he was saying. "You think she hid it in the library?"
Scarecrow shrugged. "Who knows? You'll just have to find out," he said, his amber eyes gleaming as he slowly started to fade away.
Letting out a small huff, he turned towards the direction of the library, hoping that his intuition was right and the formula would be there.
