A.N - See! When I get reviews- I post faster...

And... erm... I guess this is a part this is a little disturbing. Maybe... Or maybe just dark. I dunno. Thought I'd give you a fair warning though.

Chapter Four:

Scarecrow Tells All

This bit of information shut her up. She was no longer crying, sobbing, or screaming screams that made him felt he'd go deaf at any moment. The quietness, the solemness- it was Jonathan Crane preferred. A silent satisfaction. The look on her face, on her color-drained face, was indescribable. Her navy eyes were wide in shocking disbelief, her mouth hung open, to defend herself and yet she said nothing. She was speechless and fearful.

Jonathan could tell that this bit of information made the girl doubt her sanity. It could make anyone doubt their sanity- receiving the news that the had murdered their own parents. She was fearful because she thought that maybe she was mad and belonged in his dear Arkham Asylum. This fear could make her want to be locked away in the padded room again and once, twice, or maybe three times a week visit her doctor. Visit him. The brilliant, young, top doctor at Arkham Asylum. Dr. Jonathan Crane.

Of course, during their sessions, they would sit in silence. Jonathan would rise a few questions of her foster parents that had put her in the institution- an April and Jesse Mouge. She maybe would nod or shake her head a few times, but said nothing. He'd ask her about her childhood and about her life while she was living with her parents. She'd only shrug, her arms folded tightly across her chest, refusing to be a part of the session. While giving him a silence treatment, she'd stare out of the window of his office, out to the hazy sky, or the dirty streets below.

Dr. Crane hated it. He'd clench his teeth together, but keep a calm composure as he watched his young patient through his glasses. He noticed though, when he looked down to scribble notes about her, her eyes would fly instantly to the paper- trying to see what he wrote. When Jonathan looked up to her- she'd quickly shift her eyes away.

The girl hated being analyzed. Feared it. She didn't want him to know what she was thinking. It was like a weakness- to have someone know all about you and how your mind works before you yourself know. Jonathan couldn't blame her. It'd be frustrating- and yes, it would be a weakness… Unless the mind was underestimated.

Melissa's navy eyes stared up into his glacier blue eyes, entranced and intoxicated. She couldn't bring herself to look away from his eyes. She tried to, she tried to force herself to turn her head away from his, which was only inches away. He was dangerously close though- danger was also in his eyes.

During their sessions- Melissa would try to avoid looking into the eyes of her doctor. They made her feel weak and helpless, the made her feel like a servant to this man. Her doctor. All he would have to do was look into her eyes and she'd nearly have a heart attack from panic. His eyes were chilling. Intriguing and yet chilling. His eyes would cause shivers to run up your spine, and once looking at him, you were trapped. You couldn't look away. You'd feel the need to answer all of his questions. Then he'd analyze your thoughts, and diagnose you. Then he'd know all about you.

But, now it was not only a chill in his eyes- it was danger. The type to be utterly terrified of. The usual logical look on Jonathan Crane's face, even with the mask on, had melted away and replaced by something else. It was replaced by amusement, threatening, a dark delight. Melissa couldn't believe this was her doctor.

And it wasn't. It was the Scarecrow. Melissa though, unfortunately, was unaware of who the 'Scarecrow' was. And Scarecrow did not get the satisfaction from Melissa's silent fear like Dr. Crane did. No, not at all. He wanted to hear her fear. He wanted to get drunk off of it. He wanted her to scream.

"You killed them, Melissa." He told her darkly, breaking the silence, no longer caring about the 'break it to her gently' methodhe had beenusing moments before. Scarecrow leaned in, hovering over her body, his face closer to hers.

"Look at me!" He growled as his free hand grasped her bottom jaw, pointing her chin to his face- forcing her to look at him. "You murdered them. You, Millie, killed your parents while they slept. Sleeping in their beds, you crept in…" He paused dramatically as a smirk rose to his lips beneath the surgical mask. "You had stabbed your father…"

Scarecrow's eyes kept focused on hers as tears begin to roll down from her eyes.

Titlting his head to the side, Scarecrow let go of her jaw as he wiped a single tear of hers away.

"Your mother… Well, I bet she just screamed and screamed." He leaned even closer, so that the mask was brushing against her ear, "Makes the blood run cold just thinking about it, doesn't it?" Melissa gasped for breath as a sob escaped and the Scarecrow leaned back. "She tried to control you. Maybe she was calling you angel, sweetie, baby -trying to calm you. I figure that there was a struggle."

"Do you know where they found her?" He asked. "DO YOU?" He shouted at her. Melissa slowly shook her head, now crying and sobbing. "At the bottom of your stairs. You had pushed her, Millie."

"So you see… You did belong in Arkham. You belong here as well… Haven't you ever heard of 'what goes around, comes around'?" Melissa struggled to move, to sit up, to move her arms, but all of the attempts were in vain.

"You're a murderer. You're mind is unbalanced… Face it, Melissa… You're insane." Melissa cried harder, her breathing was fast as hard as she gasped for air, she struggled more. She let out a scream, but it was crossed with a cry. He wanted her to scream out.

With a scowl, he shouted at her- "SCREAM!" Though she continued to cry, Melissa shook her head.

He grabbed her arm firmly, gripping tightly and placed the syringe in the correct position. With a frustrated glare, he glanced to her, then back to her arm as he gracefully slid the needle into her vein, injecting her withJonathan's creation.

But when he pulled out the needle- the disappointed rose. She was not even cryinganymore. She had fainted. Out of anger, he threw the needle into the small bin and whipped back to her.

Clenching his teeth together, he pulled the mask down from his mouth- then off. He yanked off the rubber gloves as his chilling blue eyes went back to Melissa's face.

She had to be awake when the effects kicked in. He has to study the effects. And to get the full of it- she'd have to be free for moving.

He pulled the straps loose from her legs, ankles, arms, and wrists. He moved back to his desk, and leaned against it as he held up his clipboard filled with paper. Also he grabbed his glasses from his desk, putting them on as he smoothed out his hair, turning his attention back to Melissa. It would be better to not use smelling-salts, to study the effects, it would be better to have her wake on her own.

So, waiting for his former patient to wake, he only stood there, Jonathan Crane's eyes watching her intently.

And after only three minutes, she gave a light moan, shifting her body on the table, starting to stir awake.

She rolled onto her side, opening her eyes slowly. Melissa stared at Jonathan for a brief moment before letting out a scream. A scream of fear. She slapped a hand to her mouth, trying to muffle it as she half rolled and half fell off of the table onto the cold floor. She pushed herself further away from Dr. Crane, against the cupboards and was utterly horrified to find she couldn't move further away.

Jonathan Crane watched her in a collected manner, taking notes, but below the Scarecrow was smirking with victory, begging to come out again to play.