AN: 'Fear of stairs, of climbing/falling down stairs'. Merton is the Lead Asshole, the one who thought mouthing off to Zsasz was a good idea and lost a finger (get it, Zsasz!). On a related note, I'm still not over the fact that those pricks Rickrolled us. Really. This show. I swear.
Recommended listening: Dorothy's 'Medicine Man'.
McStaken-The lighting was not flattering. Eh, it made all the little details really pop...the bulging eyes, the blood splatter...
Forbidden Moons-Whomever came up with that is clearly a Fruedian and I despise them on principle.
Merton comes to in the dark.
His head hurts. So does his hand-that fucker Zsasz is gonna pay one day-and he can't remem…
Oh. Yeah, he kinda can. Penguin. Jail. Power outage. Heavy object to the back of the head.
Well, shit.
This is probably Penguin's retaliation. And like he'll ever admit it to the little creep's face, but…
He's fairly alarmed here.
Clink-clink-clink.
The hell?
"What's goin' on?"
Click.
A single light bulb is turned on, the crappy circle of light it provides doing exactly nothing to reveal his surroundings. Penguin's a dramatic bastard, what the hell, this town used to better than this…
"Hello!" What the hell. "I was getting worried…it's been a few hours. Apparently it's really easy to put someone in a coma…the more you know, huh?"
Merton has never been more confused in his life, and that includes Trig.
The light is big enough to reveal a girl. O-kay, then. So are they gonna go with a…good cop, bad cop routine? He's not impressed. And he's a little annoyed-what, so he's not good enough for Penguin to come see him?
Fucker.
(At least it's not Zsasz, though, he's not that proud, he doesn't want to be in Zsasz's basement.)
WHAM!
Blinding pain rips through his knee. What the hell? What the hell?
The girl is holding a pipe. Okay. Okay, maybe she's not the good cop. Shit.
"The fuck!"
"Least you can do is make conversation." Uh-oh. This is gonna be bad, isn't it. Oh, the irony of wanting to be back in jail… "Just to make sure…Merton Harris, right? Responsible for a string of robberies, picked a fight with the Penguin, kidnapped Jonathan Crane from Arkham?"
Um.
What.
"You go tell Penguin-"
WHAM!
New pain, and he's not sure he didn't imagine that CRACK.
"Yes or no?"
He pinches his lips shut. Penguin can come down here himself or he's getting nothing. Honor among thieves and all.
The girl sighs.
"I'm going to have to take that as a yes. Hope so! The next little while isn't going to be fun…" She grins at him. The shitty lighting makes it a lot creepier than it should be. "Before we begin…I don't work for Penguin. You'll wish I did, I'm sure, but…anyway, your cousin informed us you're the ringleader here."
Grady? The fuck did Grady get him into? Who's the crazy girl?
"Look, kid, you got a lot to learn about tellin' people shit. Less is more."
She shrugs, scuffs the floor with the pipe.
"It's not like you'll be in any shape to share."
Clink-clink-clink!
Merton cranes to see what that is, but the light isn't enough and he can't make anything out. Damn. When he gets outta here, Grady's gonna be in so much trouble…little shit left them, and then blabbed, and…
How are they even related, man? How?
"So. Jonathan Crane. You're the one who took him out of Arkham, yes?" Uh. What does Crane have to do with anything. (Shit, Grady let him out, right? If he starves and dies they're all screwed.) "I should thank you, I guess. But…" She shakes her head. "Really. Really. Kidnapping? Psychological torture? Manhandling? Tsk, tsk."
Uh-oh. He's got two explanations here and they're both bad-vengeful relative or vengeful girlfriend. Fuckin' Gotham, man…Grady did not warn him about any of this and he's pissed.
"Look, better us than Arkham." It's kinda true. They fed the kid somethin' that wasn't radioactive and laced with drugs. "Really, last I saw him, he was fine. Lemme go and we can go-"
WHAM!
The pipe hits his ribs this time, knocking the wind out of him and sending him lurching forward in a vain attempt to protect himself. It's about now that he registers that his hands and feet are firmly tied to the chair.
"Don't. Lie. To me." Shit. "Do you know what happened to your cousin, Merton? Would you like to see?"
WHAT DID SHE DO TO GRADY. Fuckin' bitch, Grady is his sucky relative, he's the only one allowed to give him shit and bruises!
"What did you do-"
"Nothing. But I got a picture! Hang on…" The light of the phone is nearly blinding, but it's just as useless as the single bulb at revealing the room. "Sorry for the quality, I got something in the lens and the camera's never been great since."
She stands up, phone in one hand and pipe in the other, and circles around the chair, leans over him. He squints at the phone, already dreading what he'll see, and goes cold.
Grady, bless his stupid heart, Grady…
He's dressed up like a scarecrow and hung up on a cross outside Crane's house. The hell, the hell, he'll kill her-
He snaps at her fingers-shut up, it's what he can do-and she taps the pipe ever so gently against his ankle.
"No."
"The hell did you do to him-"
"Nothing! God, listen." She returns to her chair. "You can't tell in the picture, but he's been dosed up with fear gas. Overdose, I guess. I wouldn't know, I wasn't there."
No.
No, no, he knows what that stuff does, no-
"You fucking bi-"
WHAM!
That's a rib cracked. Hurts less than losing the finger, but makes swearing at her a lot harder. He settles for glaring.
Clink-clink-clink!
What is that?
He twists, trying to see something that's not dark, and comes up blank. The girl taps the pipe against the cement and stands up.
"Maybe you'll be nicer to Scarecrow." she says, and what the hell is she talking about?
If he ever gets out this, he's never going anywhere near Crane again, not without a shotgun and a ticket to France.
"Hey. Hey! What the hell?"
But she's melted into the dark, leaving him unsure if she's still here or not. He can't hear anything. Can't see anything, either.
Okay. Okay, he'll just get to work on freeing himself, then. Get out, get to Grady, go from there.
Damn, these ropes are tight! Great, he would have to get kidnapped by a crazy Girl Scout…c'mon, c'mon…
Creeeaaak!
Huh?
A beam of light cuts into the room and he looks up. There's a door, and stairs. And at the top of the stairs…
The hell?
Look, that stupid scarecrow…he didn't like it either, really, but it kept Crane nice 'n cooperative, that's all, that's all-
And now it's here.
It's standing at the top of the staircase, scythe in hand, and his first thought is that the girl's set it up there for…some reason. But then it starts to move, scythe tapping against the cement with a light clink-clink-clink!
How long has it been in here what the hell even is that-is that Crane?
Okay. Okay, he has fucked up, but there's gotta be a way to get out of…whatever's going to happen to him. Be calm. Everything's fine, it's all just a big misunderstanding.
"Jonathan? S'that you?"
It has to be. He's pretty sure it's the same stuff that was on that ratty-ass scarecrow, which probably isn't good, but…
The scarecrow stills, just for a moment, before resuming its slow drudge down the stairs.
"Jonathan's not here right now." Okay, that's really creepy and he's starting to regret all of his life choices. "Just me."
It might be Crane's voice, but it sounds so wrong.
"Uh…"
"You've been very rude, Merton." Maybe it isn't Crane's voice. He has no idea and y'know what, he doesn't care, he needs to get out of here. "I didn't need your HELP."
What.
"Look, man, I'm really sor-"
The scarecrow reaches the foot of the stairs and raises a finger.
"Shh." He shuts up and tries bloodying his wrists to get free. He can't even do that-the ropes are way too tight. The scarecrow moves closer, rests one hand on the ropes. "Remember me?"
It is the scarecrow, he remembers seeing that haphazard stitches on the face, what the hell what the hell they fucked up real bad-
"What did you do to Grady."
The scarecrow seems to brighten. Somehow.
"He screamed and he screamed, right up until he started hitting his head against the stove…saw something he didn't like." It laughs and straightens up, leans its weight on the scythe. "Wonder if you'll do the same?"
WHAT.
"No. No, no, no-"
It nods.
"Yes."
And then there's bitter smoke in his lungs. He coughs, trying to get it out, and shakes his head frantically. Shit. Shit. Okay. Okay. Not real, he can't hurt himself, he's stuck in this chair and that's good-
Rrr-rrr-rrr!
No! No!
The scarecrow's sawing at the ropes with the scythe, blade centimeters from his wrists. Merton grips the arms of the chair, floor already tilting beneath him, and squeezes his eyes shut. He's just gonna stay here, he's gonna stay here and not look and it'll wear off, it's gotta-
The chair tips and he tries to tip it back and can't, ends up being dumped onto the cold floor. The impact makes everything hurt.
"Run along, Merton!" He pulls his arms over his head to drown out that voice. "Or I'll chop off your head!"
Okay. Okay, he can keep his eyes shut and just…crawl. Everything's fine, nothing's real, he's gonna get outta here right now.
His hands brush the base of the stairs and he scrambles back. He can't go up there, not like this, he'll fall he'll fall like that guy in Psycho and he doesn't wanna fall-
"Having trouble?" the scarecrow mocks from somewhere behind him. "Awww, don't tell me you can't get up!"
He coughs again, trying to dislodge the shit from his lungs, and doesn't answer.
SCHWING!
The scythe hits the ground inches from his feet and he yelps, tries to muster the courage to scramble up. He ends up getting maybe three stairs away before he just can't.
"Don't worry, Scarecrow will help you!"
He doesn't want that he doesn't want this he wants to go home-
Clatter!
Before he can register what that noise was, two pairs of hands-one scratchy and one not, grasp his arms and he's pulled, struggling all the while, up the stairs. They bruise as he bumps against them and he can't pull too hard because what if they let go?
"Here we are!" The hands release him and he scrambles away by default.
And realizes too late that he went the wrong way.
He hits the cement with a sickening CRACK! and then there's nothing more.
THE END