Batman Beyond: Fear Factor
By Alicia Evilstone
CHAPTER 3
Nothing to Fear
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DISCLAIMER: I do not own Batman Beyond or any characters within. Perhaps I may have modified some old characters a little, but all are still created by and the property of the good folks at DC Comics.
* * * *
Bruce steps down the winding corridor, further into the shadows. The bats flutter about the cave with the echoes of his feet on the cold stone floor. He steps into the dim light and towards the computer where for hours on end he stations himself as an advisor to the new Batman.
Meanwhile, on the sick table, Terry McGuiness holds his head in his hands and he tries to breathe normally. Though this seems impossible. Every moment of every second seems to drag on forever, and the cold fear in his bones causes him to shiver uncontrollably. Not hours ago he was, for a time, stripped of everything decent, good and pure left in his life.
"I've called your mother," Bruce tells him. "I told her you were in a minor car accident and that it was nothing serious. I also told her that you stayed here the night and will be back for dinner this evening."
Terry gulps and breathes again. He is comforted to know that she is alright and that it was all just a savage illusion. Though the shock of being confronted with that kind of horror will stay with him for a while to come. "Thanks, Bruce."
"Terry, what exactly did you see in the Scarecrow's simulator?" Bruce pretends to type, as so it doesn't seem he's not making a big deal over it. This is standard behavior in the boys only club.
"I saw a lot of things," says Terry. "It's like my whole life was turned upside down. And it wasn't just the big stuff… it was everything. Now that I'm out of it, I kind of have doubts about some things…"
This caught Bruce's concern. "Doubts about what things?"
"Well… about being Batman for one thing." There is silence between the two. "I know you became Batman when your folks died, Bruce, and when my father was murdered I probably felt the same as you did years ago. I wanted justice for what was done. Now, in retrospect, it just seems like a tragic mistake…"
Bruce finds himself getting mad at this. His fist clenches tightly until his fingers turn white, though he does not openly express it. "How is it a mistake?"
"It just seems that where there's death and carnage, there's also the Batman. It's a melancholy lifestyle… and that's no way to choose to live. I just… don't know anymore."
"Do you really think that I would trade my parent's lives for the sake of being Batman?" Terry is surprised by this open and honest confession. "Let me tell you something, McGuiness. You are now Batman because you chose to be. You faced a great tragedy, and now it hurts. There is a hole in your life. I know. For me, I had to fill it by being Batman. What you do is your choice. Either way, there is a hole in yourself that you need to fill somehow."
"You're right," he says. "You're exactly right. I've faced my fears. I know I have people I need to protect. I know that I don't want this thoughtless mayhem to continue, and I could never sleep at night knowing that I could have done something. I was too late for my father, I won't be too late for everyone else."
Bruce listens as the young man renews his vows. Inside he is secretly proud, though he would never admit it. "Does that mean you're still going to face the Scarecrow?"
"Nothing's going to stop me. Not with what he has in plan for all of Gotham." Terry stands and wipes a brave tear from his eye. "The trouble is we don't know where he has disappeared to."
"I've been doing some checking on Nathan Hall's past exploits." With the press of a button a number of documents appear before him on the giant monitor. "For a short while his company provided electronics to the city for the sake of public advancement."
"Which tells us… what?" Terry looks over the files but can see nothing outstanding.
"In this time he was providing technological upgrades to community broadcasting facility in the mountains." Terry nods, though still doesn't see the connection. "If he were to have access to this particular facility, he could use it to spread his subliminal message of chaos, resulting in widespread insanity."
"I knew that," Terry lies. "So you're saying that he can simply do this through television instead of a heavy VR set?"
"The VR set was just part of a controlled experiment," he is told. "The arcade was just a human petrii dish if you will, and the patrons were unwilling participants."
"Nice analogy," Terry remarks with some sense of sarcasm. At least he's slowly getting his sense of humor back. "What makes you so sure he'll strike tonight?"
"He'll have to." Bruce turns back to his work. "The longer the time he takes the higher the risk of getting caught. This Scarecrow seems intent on getting the job done, and quickly."
"Then we'd better get to work," says Terry donning the black mask. Once more he is remade into the image of the Batman, champion of all Gotham City.
"Are you sure you're up for it?"
Batman looks at his shaking hands and nods uneasily. "It's my job, Bruce. It's what I promised that I would do, no matter what. I'm sure nothing like this ever stopped you in your golden years."
He smiles to his protégé, knowing what he says to be true. "Good luck."
* * * *
Gotham City. From up here it's almost beautiful in a dark deco way. Even as times change the spirit of this place did not. It has a rich, dark history for those who live well with honest lives and decent ways to the seedy underbelly of crime and corruption. Chances are this city will be this way for all of time to come.
Though Nathan Hall has no time to admire the view. For all hours of the day he has been toiling long and hard striving to connect his fear-inducing machine to a large transmitter placed very openly in the middle of Gotham's mountain area. With this his name will go down in history. With this he'll show them all.
All he's known in life is fear. He was afraid he was never good enough for any girls, afraid he wasn't tough enough or cool enough to hang with the jocks, afraid of being an outsided dweeb. He was afraid of being a loser his entire life without ever having a chance to better himself.
At night he would shiver, cold and lonely, stretching out for a hand that was not there. Sometimes he was even afraid of being the only person 'alive'. Try as he might to fix this he was met only with rejection. The girls laughed at him, or said 'why can't we be friends?' The guys would just taunt and push him further and further away, despite how much they would say they are friends.
One day he decided that he didn't need people anymore. He kept to himself and set out to accomplish his goals all by himself. With this new drive he achieved much, and with these new accomplishments under his belt he graduated as a valedictorian, then went on to study computer science and psychology part time.
That's where he met Professor Jonathan Crane. That's where it was all made clear. He can remember the doctor's words as he shook and shuttered. "They say there is nothing to fear but fear itself. If this is the case then you must become fear itself. Then, logically, all who know fear will fear you."
Months passed, and every night he considered these words before drifting away into his nightmares. It would take some time before realizing their full meaning, but when they did the nightmares stopped and he was in total control.
Later, he opened a hip, hot arcade and nightclub, which became the place to be of all the Gotham nightspots. From this he made a lot of money, met a lot of beautiful women and watched as the people lapped it all up. They say the best revenge is living well, though this was never good enough for Nathan.
Like the Scarecrow he strived to strike fear into the hearts of all his victims, one by one. By using signals in the VR sets nobody would ever know. Though even then it was never enough. Picking at children was far too easy, but he wanted the whole city to pay.
That is why he is here now. Nathan Hall, future criminal mastermind, master of fear.
* * * *
It is late and night has fallen. The Scarecrow stands openly on the roof under the broadcasting antenna with a black control pad in hand. He smells the air and the sweet taste of anticipation. In his mind he knows that tonight darkness will envelope Gotham City, and all it's inhabitants will fall into a nightmare from which they will never awaken.
The breeze is stiff and hard, beating his dreadlocks about and the branches on the side of the building. This is the perfect setting for his ultimate vengeance, with nature preparing to break out into a violent wind, as if it is a manifestation of Gotham's soul. He smiles under his metallic skull mask, knowing its hero has been defeated and that there is nothing left to stop him.
"Farewell, sweet Gotham," he chuckles. "From Hell's heart I stabbeth thee."
Suddenly, a whirring noise makes itself known from the near distance. It doesn't sound like the wind, or any of his machines. Looking about he can see nothing, until he can see a black object circling the general vacinity of the area. It is the Batmobile.
"So, the Dark Knight isn't dead after all." The Scarecrow raises his metal gauntlet and his faithful mechanical bird perches on it. He orders it clearly, "Steelbeak, seek and destroy. Go!"
The Batmobile flies away seeing the bogey on it's tail. The Scarecrow turns back to his work thinking that he has the Dark Knight distracted for a while, but hurries knowing that this time he's coming back prepared. Swiftly he connects more cables and wiring, flicks more switches and all other things in desperation to gain optimum amplification of his deadly signal.
Sparks shower out everywhere when a random batarang flies into the work, causing the Scarecrow to double over. The Batman materializes from thin air. "Surprised to see me, Hall?"
"Ah, yes," he says brushing himself off. "I knew you'd probably escape my little death trap, though I wager that you'd still be feeling most of the effects from the ordeal I sent you through. I trust that you are somewhat weaker than when we last went hand-to-hand."
"I'm strong enough to beat you," the Batman spits, "and bring you to justice."
"How very quaint." The Scarecrow laughs and turns away ignoring his adversary. For a moment he pauses only to ask, "Why not tell me about your fears? I'm ever so curious as to what skeletons lie in the Batman's closet…"
"Enough of this." The Dark Knight fires his thrusters, storming his foe and knocking him to his knees from behind. The controller slips from his hand and slides into the bush down below. "I won't let you bring your fear broadcast to this city."
"You're too late," he says standing up again as if never struck. "The broadcast started ten minutes ago. It shouldn't be too long now before we can see the carnage unfold."
"Monster! I'll…" The ground begins to become unstable, as if melting into vertigo. Before his eyes Terry can see his mother and brother standing between him and the Scarecrow. "Oh no, not again…"
"What do you see?" enquires the Scarecrow. When he does not answer the rogue bounds forward and smacks him to the floor. "Tell me, what do you see!? Do you know what is real anymore? Have your nightmares been biding their time, plotting greater torture for you? Hmmm?"
"Terry," growls Bruce. "What's going on out there?"
Batman writhes about. His senses are warped and left and right elude him. Even as the Scarecrow kicks him he cannot tell where the blows land, only that they are sharp and hard. One by one he manages to plant his feet on the ground, though he is easily brought drown by the waiting Scarecrow with his fists clasped together.
Bruce slams his hands onto the console. He shouldn't have let him go. Not in this condition. "Terry, get up! You can't take much more of this!"
The Dark Knight curls into a fetal position and submissively takes hits from his enemy. He knows now going into the field was a huge mistake. Now his heart tells him that he has no choice by to wait for death to come.
"Terry, I know you're scared," Bruce tells him softly, "but you have to get up. You're letting his programming win. If the Scarecrow wins all of Gotham is lost. You have to fight him or else you've already lost…"
From the ground he looks up to see the Scarecrow's dark visage standing over him, mocking him. He can feel the warm taste of the blood trickling from his lips and the burning inside his chest. Through the pain he tries to focus and listen to Bruce's words. Now they are just faint cries in the background.
All is lost. Gotham City is doomed, all because he is too afraid to even act.
The Scarecrow kneels down and laughs like a mad Joker on a crime spree. It is so wrong to see control of this city go to such a madman. Though what can he do? The burning in his heart for justice, the need to do what needs to be done… it is gone, swallowed by fear itself.
"How does it feel, Batman?" The Scarecrow cackles some more. "Do you feel alive? You're fully aware, aren't you? I'll bet you want it all to end…"
Again the distinct whirring of the Batmobile's engine is heard nearby. The stealthy vehicle charges boldly over the surrounding woodland, still with the destroyer close in tail. The Scarecrow screams realizing its collision course: the broadcast tower.
He watches helplessly as the Batmobile roars by it, leaving Steelbeak to fly directly into the line of fire. From its bottom deploys a pair of miniature smart missile, careering with the tower and exploding with a raging fire. Now the tower is weak, and is barely holding together.
The Scarecrow howls into the night. All those years, all that planning, all of it for naught. The only revenge he has left to extract is on the pitiful excuse for a human being lying before him: the once great Batman.
"You killed my dream, Batman," he hisses. "Now I'm going to kill you."
Another vision of pure evil appears before Terry's eyes. In a world without Batman people like him would reign supreme. In this world there would be no hope. In this world his mother and his brother would soon join him in a shallow grave.
"NO!" The Batman cries out with tears in his eyes. In a rage of lunacy and desperation he dive-bombs the Scarecrow head on, leveling him to his back. Blind to any sense of reason the Dark Knight just pounds his fists across the face of evil, socking him time and time again.
Bruce watches as Terry passionately takes out his fury on the now unconscious foe. He knows that the young man has been through a lot, though any more and the Scarecrow will probably be killed. "That's enough, Terry. It's over now."
Batman stops. His fist is still raised over his head still anxious to continue the beating, though inside he knows his mentor is right. It's all over.
He pulls away his enemy's mask to reveal the bruised and bleeding face of Nathan Hall. He spits on him and says, "I know you only became fear to hide the fact that you are afraid. I know the truth, and now you will be afraid of me."
Above, the flaming tower still teeters on the verge of collapse. Responsibly but begrudgingly he drags the Scarecrow away from any danger. The day has been won and any death will accomplish nothing.
In the distance the wail of police sirens can be heard, though once again they are too late.
* * * *
Terry stops the limousine on a small rise where a grass clearing stretches out before the city's edge. He lets out his boss, Mr. Wayne, and the two of them stand together, just watching time pass by. For a moment they are serene.
"There's something I've been meaning to confess," admits Bruce still looking to the horizon.
"Oh?" Terry looks at him curiously. "And what might that be?"
Bruce clears his throat with a cough. "Years ago I had my own fears. I would put on the mask of Batman and venture into the night. Sometimes I would wonder if I was losing my sanity, as if I were becoming more like the criminals I fought."
"Then what happened?" Bruce turns and smiles, staring at Terry so that he would remember what he says next.
"I realized that I was afraid, and that fear in my life needed to be conquered. That is what fear is in our hearts for. Partly to warn us, guide us, to give us boundaries. Other times it is to be overcome so that it might make us stronger. I chose to go at odds with my fears every time I put on the cape and cowl. Though while I chose to overcome it, the madmen I fought chose to descend into it, to be engulfed by it. That, in my opinion, is what sets us apart."
Terry considers this for a moment. "That was very profound."
"Was it a bit much?"
Terry smiles. "Just a little, but I'll let it slide this time."
With that said Terry helps Bruce back into the car then proceeds to drive him home. This time both of them have learned to respect fear, though not to fear it, and for the experience the two of them alone are stronger than ever before.
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THE END