WARNING: This chapter contains material pertaining to a sexual assault. Please read with caution. Chapter also contains another point of view.

Chapter 7

The comedown from this drug wasn't terrible. At least, whatever I was feeling and doing didn't seem to bother Dr. Crane. I relaxed on my bed, watching a bit of television while he calmly recorded his findings in a notebook. He would occasionally ask me a question pertaining to what I was experiencing, but other than that he didn't have a whole lot to say.

I knew I should have been worried that he was here. That's something that really bothered me. I knew that this situation was wrong, but I allowed it anyways. It's like when you know you're high. Makes for a pretty bad trip, doesn't it? I wanted to do something about it, but all I could feel was a careless relaxation.

"I'll be off, Mira." Crane said boringly, keeping his eyes on his pen and notebook. "I've got another subject to test."

"What?" I scoffed as he neatly composed his things in his briefcase.

"I have another subject waiting for me." He told me with a slight roll in his eyes.

I bit the inside of my lip, hoping that I didn't make him think anything I didn't want him too. "Sure, yeah. Whatever." I shrugged, grabbing the remote. I listened to him sigh and watched him adjust his jacket from the corner of my eye.

"I have lots of subjects, Mira. You don't have to be a Queen to participate." He assured me, quite condescendingly in fact. His tone bothered me, but I kept my cool.

(-)

Crane shrugged, but then began to grit his teeth when that voice started to pester him once again. It was like the scarecrow made the inside of Crane's head his own abode; banging on the walls and tearing up the furniture. The doctor didn't know how long it would take until he broke through completely; owning him from head to toe.

"Leave her, Jonathan. Let's go to the next one and make her scream. Mira is such a bore, don't you think?"

Crane stifled the voice in his head with a deep breath. He straightened himself up with his case in hand. "I'll see you tonight." He assured her and headed for the door.

"I don't work tonight." She rudely informed him with her eyes still glued to the television. He furrowed his brow in annoyance. Crane was a little disappointed that he couldn't bother her at work, but also unhappy with the way she spoke to him. He detested that disrespect, but he also knew that she wasn't worth it. Test subjects were disposable.

"Disposable? Good, that means it doesn't matter what we do to them."

"Fine." He twisted his pillowy lips before forming a smile. "Whenever you come back, then."

Crane left the apartment without exchanging anymore words with Mira. The cold bit the tip of his nose as he quickly traveled down the steps of the brick building and onto the lower level of the complex. He was quick, and made sure that he was seen by none. It didn't seem possible with the way the flurries twisted around, causing the doctor to curse quietly and wish he had a better coat.

"Where's that next one? Maybe she'll warm you up…"

"I could freeze you out." Crane mumbled to the scarecrow.

"That's really no fun."

The next subject lived in the same complex as Mira. It was convenient for him; knowing he was taking a risk traveling around the city in daylight. Crane would just have to find another way to bide his time before heading back to the asylum.

He hastily opened the door to apartment 7A, shutting it behind him to avoid letting in the cold air. The room was dark, and strangely quiet. The subject he anticipated seeing was generally pretty lively, and kept her apartment much cleaner than Mira's. Crane re adjusted his glasses and glanced around, feeling something was amiss.

A picture beside the kitchen window caught his eye; something that he never noticed before. The frame was silver, with a design that resembled cherry blossoms. His subject and her companion were dressed in matching violet shirts and odd colored leggings.

"I love when girls wear those."

Crane mentally bit back at the scarecrow before continuing to examine the photograph. The subject held twin puppies, while her companion cradled a tiny black kitten. The kitten almost seemed to blend with the girl's wild unkempt locks.

He carefully set the frame back and cleared his throat before making his way around the apartment. Suddenly he could hear the slow hum of bath water, causing a slight panic in his step as he headed toward the source. When he reached the bathroom, all he could see was a limp arm hanging off the edge of the tub. Crane dared not touch anything when he understood what was happening.

A notepad sitting on the toilet begged his attention. Messy words were scrawled upon the pages, leaving only a few legible items. Crane furthered his eyes to the notes, careful not to make too many steps around the bathroom.

"…Bodies…RED…Piles…"

Crane left. It was actually a lucky thing, to tell the truth. It was lucky that he went to check on this subject and discover her body when he did. Now, he knew to never come back.

(-)

The sound of the disposal filled my kitchen, covering the low conversations from the television as well as the music singing from my laptop. I liked noise. Sometimes I just couldn't function without it. I set a bowl of freshly cooked shrimp aside and checked the pasta on the other end of the stove.

With a moment to spare, I grabbed my cell phone and shot a text to Jo.

"Want some lunch? Making shrimp and noodles!"

I set the phone on the counter and sighed. Most people who are single only cook food for one, but I generally make more than enough. It made me smile and wonder if I was subconsciously telling myself that I needed more friends…or maybe I just needed a significant other. It almost seemed like I was taking a psychological page from one of Crane's books. I started to laugh.

The music from the laptop had ceased. I casually turned around to see a familiar figure in a disheveled button down and stark blue eyes. Speak of the devil.

"It looks like my next subject is unavailable." He told me, gently placing his brief case onto the table. My eyes fixated on his hands, watching them travel to his face and remove his glasses. He had pretty hands, I thought to myself. Then I remembered giving him that injection at Arkham, and how lovely his arms were.

"Oh." I said, not really having time to react. I turned back to the pasta and watched the rolling boil. "Is…is this going to become a regular thing?" I questioned, giving the water a stir. God, how did he come in so quietly? Sure, my apartment was loud. Why didn't I sense him?

"I'm not sure yet." I heard him say.

I grabbed the strainer and flipped the contents of the pot inside, giving it a shake before checking my phone. Jo hadn't texted me, not even to say she wouldn't be over. With a sigh, I tossed the shrimp and pasta into a bowl before pouring in some Italian dressing. I could feel Crane's eyes in my back. He studied me. I couldn't even get out the plates without shaking like a crack whore.

Be careful what you wish for. I gave Crane's plate a little more food than mine. The man needed a good meal, being as skinny as he was. Carefully, I took his suitcase off the dainty table and ran it to the ottoman in the living room. He gave me a puzzled look as I set the plate in front of him and handed him a fork and napkin.

Crane didn't say a word. The two of us sat in silence, with the occasional clinking of the fork and plate. I dared look up a few times just to watch him eat, fascinated by his elegant mouth. He wasn't sloppy, not even when he sucked the angel hair between his lips and licked off the dressing.

"That was kind of you." He suddenly remarked without any hint of a smile.

"No one usually eats with me anyways." I mumbled, staring at the plate. Damn it, Mira! A generic, "you're welcome" would have sufficed!

"Aww, little Mira's lonely." Crane's voice changed into a menacing tone. When I looked up, his eyes were glazed over and his jaw tightened threateningly. "Do I get to eat your dessert too?"

I jumped back from the table as I watched Crane's head shift from side to side, like he was fighting himself. He struggled and smacked himself in the face several times, speaking in two different tones. The words were so violently spat at each other, rolling into an increasing avalanche of insanity. Finally, I could see him give up. Crane wasn't here anymore.

He re-composed himself, straightening his back and adjusting his jacket. It seemed like the scarecrow was trying on new clothes. Maybe he was trying on his body?

"I like girl's with dark hair." He smirked, walking closer to me with an arrogant saunter. I was paralyzed in fear, disturbed by his unnatural smile and raspy voice. Something about him made him seem taller and otherworldly. Like a scarecrow.

I backed up, feeling myself push back against the kitchen counter. The scarecrow did not yield, but continued moving until I felt his body on mine. He still smelled sweetly clean like normal Dr. Crane, and it was the only thing that could keep me from screaming. I turned my head away from him, unable to look into those eyes.

Cold hands wrapped around my neck. He forced my face to look back at him, into those horrifying eyes. No, they weren't particularly gentle even when he was Crane. Scarecrow seemed to have dirty snow eyes; lifeless and withering. "You smell like Amber." He groaned, pushing his nose in my hair with one hand around my neck. "I hope you taste just as good."

My lip quivered terribly. A small shriek escaped my lips as I felt his hand tangle within my hair, deeply close to my scalp. He quickly pulled my head back, bringing sharp tears to my eyes. I had never felt so weak in my life; so helpless and utterly frozen.

"Please, stop." I managed to peep. "Please.

Scarecrow closed his eyes and whispered. "Say that again." He shook me, seemingly getting off by the begging. I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. My mouth remained tight lipped after that.

"That's alright, honey. I'll just have to make you do what I want."

Despite the TV still going, his voice was the only thing I could hear. Those terrible words hung in the air, playing back and forth inside of my head. They played even as he jerked me back again, keeping his hand on the back of my neck as he laid half of my body back onto the kitchen counter. This is it. I'm done.

He greedily ran his tongue down my neck. I might have enjoyed it if it was someone else, but not this. This was not of love; it was of utter dominance and fear. I felt him suck and bite all over, beginning to make his way to my chest.

I lulled my head over, and through my hot tears, I saw a piece of salvation. I parted my legs, inciting an increased amount of lust within scarecrow. Like the beast he was, I felt him grind his hips against me as he left a final bite on my upper breast. He traveled down to my lower half and I searched for a moment.

I had a split second at the most. The moment I saw him become preoccupied with my sweats, I grabbed my salvation; the beautiful cast iron pan. Before he looked up, Scarecrow went back down again. I was in control now.