Batman and characters belong to DC comics
Some birds were gathering the stray strands of hay on the ground when a towering shadow figure scared them away.
Kneeling down, the Batman touched the strands observing them. He noticed a trail of hay made toward the sidewalk like its owner was dragged or carried and they just fell down. A few steps and he found the mask and can.
'he would never leave his 'face of fear' behind' thought the bat 'he was obviously unconscious when he was taken'.
Making his way to the batmobile a british accent informed him of any luck.
" not yet Alfred, however I managed to locate his last position, but it seems he was taken away by someone. I found a spray can and his mask. I'm guessing he wasn't awake when taken"
"do you suppose another inmate had gotten to him?"
"It's a possibility, but it's hard to tell with the little evidence I found. I wouldn't worry too much about him now though. Without his fear gas or mask he's of little threat, he'll show up eventually, he'll have to if he wants to get some chemicals to create his toxins".
" am I safe to assume you will be arriving home early this night master Bruce?"
"we'll see Alfred, first I'll drop by Gordon to see if his men have found any leads"
"very good sir, dinner shall be ready when you return".
"thanks Alfred."
With that, Batman closed the link and made his way to the GPD
Bringing in a bowl of warm water and a cloth she was able to see the man's face in the room's light.
He had dirt on his face and clothes, probably from laying on the ground. He had scratches and faint bruises with some dried blood near his nose and around corner of his mouth.
She stared at the man on her bed while gently wiping the dirt and blood from his face. She felt panicked.
' what have I gotten my self into, who brings a complete stranger into their home? An unconscious dirty stranger? For all I know he might-'
There's a groan. She freezes. He shifts slightly but doesn't awake. Letting out a sigh she takes the bowl and cloth and leaves the room turning off the light.
In her living room she plops on the couch and turn on the tube. Watching television late into the night she begins to doze until finally succumbing to sleep leaving the tv on. the paranoia of her guest becomes a trivial haze.
On the screen an announcement is made to the citizens of Gotham City to beware of inmate that has escaped Arkham: Jonathan Crane aka The Scarecrow.
Jim Gordon opens the door to his office making way straight to his coffee machine. He notices the window open and the slight breeze.
"any luck out there finding him" he says aloud. After so and so years he was getting used to the Batman's discreet entries, if only barley, on most nights he still managed to make his heart startle.
" I found some of his possessions, but no sign of the Scarecrow himself, thought I'd come here to check if your men have found anything"
The commissioner shakes his head no and breaths in deep
"I don't get it. We beef up security tight in that asylum and they still managed to escape."
"don't get too stressed about it Jim, I think I managed to injure him in our brawl, without his toxins he's not as much as a threat". The Batman tries to comfort
"yeah well it sure as hell not making my job any easier. All those damn reporters, everytime I have to lie to keep the citizens from getting overwhelmed. Imagine if I told them we had no idea where the lunatic was, they'd think the police was a joke!"
Gordon takes a sip of his black coffee. He cringes a bit as it burned his throat with satisfaction.
" I'll find him Jim, rest assured knowing that"
Jim chuckles tiredly. When he turns around the Batman is gone. Another sigh
" I hate when he does that" he takes another sip
From the spit of the curtain a ray of light shines through glazing the face of the slumbering man.
Bothered, he opens his eyes ever slowly, rubbing the sand from his eyes. Almost instantly his head begin to throb. Shutting his eyes he raises his hand to pinch the brink of his nose in hopes of releasing the pressure.
He takes note of his surroundings.
The room is a shade of smokey blue. Next to the bed was a night stand with a lamp, a book and pencil and Ipod ihome. The walls were decorated with various porcelain and gas masks, drawings and paintings he assumed were self made as well as queer collages of random objects placed in abstract assembly.
It then hit him. Where was his mask? He looks around frantically, but it's nowhere to be seen, which makes him rather agitated.
He spies two doors: one obviously a closet and the other leading to the main room.
His body feels beat and weakened- his muscles burn as he gets off the bed. First he goes to the door on the left.
It's a walk in closet. He notices some canvases on the floor leaning against the wall, some painted others blank.
'hmm. This person is an artist of sorts' he looks at the clutter of clothes and makes another acknowledgment. 'Ah, this woman is an artist of sorts and this is her apartment'
Chills run up his spine as he imagines what may have been done to him, how he had gotten here. He felt sick and his head throbbed even more as he tried to recall what had happened.
'what happened? What happened after I escaped Arkham?.. Ahhh yes… Batman, I was lucky to escape that damn bat! He punched me off the second story of a building! Luckily I have no dire injuries; I must have fallen in a deep sleep from exhaustion'
Being satisfied with his reason for so carelessly getting abducted he moved slowly to the other door. He places an ear against the door for any movement. Nothing.
With his hand on the handle he twists and pushes forward.