CHAPTER 6 – YOUR DEEPEST, DARKEST FEAR
As a child, Jonathan Crane had always been afraid. Afraid of his family, afraid of all the other children who bullied him, afraid of life in general. But now, he had mastered fear; he had grown to love it, the psychology of it, the seductive nature of it. And he had decided that he had been afraid long enough. It was time that the rest of the world knew true fear. So he became a figure of terror, a symbol of fear itself. He became The Scarecrow.
On this night, he was in Gotham City Library, pursuing the other passion of his life – literature. He had always loved books – back when he was a college professor, he'd spend his entire salary on them – but it was one particular book that had drawn him here. The Library had just acquired an ancient text, written in Latin. It was a work of one of the legendary philosophers of Ancient Rome, long thought to be lost, with a title that roughly translated as "The Nature of Terror". Crane had studied Latin, and had read of references to the text in other literature. But never in his wildest dreams did he think the book itself would be within his grasp. He'd jumped at the chance to acquire it for himself and, with the help of a few hired thugs, had broken into Gotham City Library to steal it.
"Books are wonderful things, especially books as old as this," Scarecrow said, cradling the text in his arms, "The leathery texture, the sweet, musty smell. It's truly enchanting. Wouldn't you agree?"
Cruel eyes gleaming behind his tattered mask, Scarecrow looked down at one of the security guards. The guard was curled into a ball on the floor, his eyes wide with terror.
"Snakes!" he choked out, his voice barely a whisper. A single tear rolled down his eye.
"Ah, snakes!" Scarecrow hissed, his skeletal frame looming over the guard, "Flickering tongues, venomous fangs, cold, heartless eyes. They're everywhere, there's no escape…"
"Not for you, Crane," came a voice from the shadows.
Scarecrow barely had time to spin round before Batman lunged from on top of a bookcase, his cape spreading out like wings of shadow. He tackled Scarecrow to the ground, sending "The Nature of Terror" sliding across the floor. A small group of thugs, armed with knives, dived in to attack Batman. He easily disarmed each of them, quickly dispatching them with well-placed blows to the back of the head. With the henchmen left in a heap on the floor, Batman turned round to take care of Crane. But he was gone…
Suddenly, a glass vial flew through the air, shattering on the ground in front of Batman. He sputtered and coughed as Scarecrow's fear toxin was released.
HAHA!
In here!
The Joker! He was here! Cold sweat ran down Batman's cheek as he heard that chilling laughter echo through the library.
"Brucie! Oh Brucie!" The Joker cackled, "Let's play hide-and-seek! HA HA!"
Batman staggered among the bookcases, trying to find The Joker. He'd catch glimpse of him, out of the corner of his eye. Going round a corner, ducking behind a bookshelf. But he always just missed him…
Gonna get you no escape.
Die!
Ones you love…
Batman could feel the sweat running down his face in pools from under his mask. He could feel the panic swelling within him like a bomb about to go off. He couldn't give in to it, or all would be lost. But how could he not panic when The Joker was hiding in every shadow?
"What are you thinking, Batman?" laughed Scarecrow, his voice sounding like it was miles away, "What is your deepest, darkest fear?"
Failure parents failed you so sorry…
Kill you…
Joker!
Batman collapsed against a pillar, his breath coming out in short, rapid bursts. This wasn't happening. The Joker wasn't here. Scarecrow's fear toxin was playing tricks on him. He couldn't let the fear take over, he had to think rationally. Fumbling through his utility belt, Batman found the serum he'd brought with him, an antidote for the fear toxin. With a trembling hand, Batman lifted the serum to his mouth and hastily drank it. Taking a deep breath, he struggled to his feet.
This was when Scarecrow decided to strike. He actually slid out from in between two bookshelves, kicking Batman in the face before flipping to his feet. He spun round on his left leg, hitting Batman with a backhand fist and a roundhouse kick at the same time. Batman was familiar with Scarecrow's "violent dancing". A mix of kung-fu and capoeira, it was Scarecrow's patented fighting style, as it matched so well with his tall, lanky frame.
"I'll break you, Bat!" Scarecrow declared, "If not your mind, then your body. You will learn to be afraid of The Scarecrow!"
Crane may be a proficient hand-to-hand combatant as well as a criminal genius, but he wasn't in Batman's league. As Scarecrow swung a roundhouse kick, Batman grabbed his foot, pulling him forward and hitting him with a lariat with such force that Scarecrow actually did a mid-air somersault before hitting the ground face-first. His hat landed on the floor about 3 seconds after he did.
"I am not afraid," Batman snarled at Scarecrow just before he passed out, "Not of you…"
Batman tied up Scarecrow and his men, leaving them for the police to take care of. Exhausted, mentally as well as physically, Batman entered the Batmobile and headed for home.
"Alfred, Crane's been taken care of," he said through the intercom, "I'm heading home. It's been a long night."
"I'm afraid I have bad news, Master Wayne," replied Alfred, his voice strained, "It appears that The Joker has escaped from Arkham Asylum."
Batman was rendered speechless. At first, he thought he'd imagined what he'd just heard, that it was just a lingering after-effect of the fear toxin. But then he realised that it was true. The nightmare that had haunted him in his sleep for so long was now going to plague his every waking minute. His nemesis was free once again, most likely plotting a way to destroy him. It looked like the night was going to be even longer than he thought…