Scarecrow:

This is not the high point of my career. I have put gangs together, and will again when I have the need, but what your average person doesn't realize is that super-criminals' gangs have to be paid, or else they're apt to turn on their masters.

I have two men working for me now, when the actual state of my finances should limit me to one at most. I would have hired one of them for heavy lifting, but when I thought of the ways I could utilize the pair of them against Alice and Emily, I couldn't resist. Emily is beyond caring, but Alice is in for quite the mindfuck. She doesn't realize that her guard has an identical twin.

I summon the other twin—which one, I don't care—and tell him what I want. He opens several bottles of Evian and pours them into a rusty bucket. I do miss running water.

I find a wide strip of cloth, the same one I used on Emily. She should enjoy that.

Standing just outside the door, I listen to a private conversation.

"Emily? Emily!" The little Batgirl sounds frightened, but not nearly as frightened as she should be.

"Al?" Emily whimpers.

"Emily, there's a little knife inside my left boot. I can't reach it. Can you get it for me?"

"Where's Al?"

"What? I don't know who Al is. He's not here, Emily. Please, I need your help. I can get you out of here, just help me."

"No. Scarecrow. Scare-crow."

"Emily may be a mindless wreck, but at least she isn't stupid," I say as I enter the room. I remove the knife—not a weapon, just a tool—from Batgirl's boot and toss it to the floor. Her face is red from the blood rushing to her head, but I think she is blushing from embarrassment, as well.

I tie the strip of cloth over her mouth and nose.

"No," Emily moans.

"This is a technique utilized by your own government, Batgirl," I explain. "Those subjected to it last an average of fourteen seconds. Emily here lasted all of three before she started begging me to stop, but she has always had a fear of drowning. If you happen to share her phobia, then this should be an interesting session indeed."

I pour a little water over her face to let her see what she's in for.

This technique gives the subject the sensation of drowning without actual danger. The statistics I gave her refer to volunteer government agents who knew very well the test wouldn't kill them. By those standards, fourteen seconds doesn't seem long at all.

I've never been through this myself, but I understand it can be quite traumatic.

Emily certainly thinks so. She screams at the top of her lungs the minute Batgirl begins to cough and choke.

"No! No! No!" she shrieks, covering her face with her hands. She might have screamed less if her skin were being ripped off inch by inch by a red-eyed demon with a nail file. The sound is beautiful. It unnerves even me.

Batgirl faints ten seconds into the session. Disappointing, but at least I've finally managed to really scare her.

I decide to come back later, when Emily stops screaming. Then I can wake Batgirl and try again. I think she'll be ready to talk.

Emily:

Scarecrow. Drowning. Scarecrow. Drowning. Scarecrow. Drowning. Scarecrow. Drowning. Scarecrow drowning.

Drowning Scarecrow.

Drown the Scarecrow.

Kill the Scarecrow. Kill the Scarecrow.

Knife.

One way to reach the Scarecrow. Two quick cuts.

"Goodbye, Alice."

Scarecrow:

I return later to find that Emily has taken Batgirl's knife and slit her own wrists. I have underestimated her. She has gotten free of me after all.

Never mind Batgirl. The duel is meaningless now. Alice will never continue, knowing her friend is dead. I could keep it secret, but for what? Better to abandon the brats, take Alice to another hiding place, and finish the job that she has so cleverly interrupted.

Batman could track us down as soon as tomorrow night, I think, and I am not prepared to fight him here. We need to move now.

I call a twin and send him to pack the car. Then—out of sight, out of mind—I forget about him.

I do remember to dress for the occasion. I load all my gas canisters onto my right wrist, just in case Alice needs persuasion.