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Demise of the Master of Fear Chap1DISCLAIMER : this is my very first fanfic. EVER. Meaning it can contain mistakes. I would very much appreciate feedback. Even if you comment only to tell me there's a grammar mistake somewhere, or to tell me a character is OOC, it would be very useful.Demise of the Master of Fear Chap111 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The main characters will be Jonathan Crane (the Scarecrow) and Becky Albright. The first chapter contains also the Joker and the Riddler. I might include the Mad Hatter at some point, if the story allows it. (I have no idea where this is going yet)
Batman and all related characters belong to the wonderful and amazing DC Comics. I'm only a fan that wished she owned them
The Scarecro
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The Crooked ManGranny Keeny had been a cruel woman, frail in body and hard in heart. Her temper was volatile and explosive, and Jonathan Crane had learned early in life that her anger was something to be avoided at all costs. The best way to do that was to remain out of her sight as much as possible, and so he spent his time outside of school hiding out in his room inside of Keeny Mansion, hunched over a book. He was content enough with this arrangement, accompanied by the likes of Poe, Kipling, and Shelley. His past time had to be kept secret, of course—Granny Keeny did not approve of such unholy vices as fiction and creative writing.The Crooked Man7 months ago in Horror More Like This
The exemption to this rule was nursery tales. Crane suspected that this was because so many stories featured misbehaving individuals gaining their comeuppance, often in a rather unpleasant manner. From the ages of two to ten, Granny Keeny would perform a nightly ritual of reading to Crane a story from a large, leather-bound book titled Nursery Tales.
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"Yes," hissed the Scarecrow. Nigma began to struggle feebly, trying to pull away and tumbling down off the sofa in his efforts, but Jonathan's grip held.
"Please don't," the ginger begged, eyes wide and desperate as he stared up at the Scarecrow, "Please don't, I can't--"
The pathetic plea disappeared in a yelp of pain as the needle plunged into his neck.
There were a few seconds of panting silence as the drug worked into his system. Then Nigma's pupils contracted to pinpricks as his eyes glazed over, his pale face twisted suddenly in an expression of terror and anguish.
Scarecrow retreated to the dented folding chair a yard or so back to watch the show.
"N-no," came the tremulous whisper, "No, it's not possible..." Great tears began to form in Nigma's distant eyes. "No, no, please, no, oh god..."
Scarecrow watched, intri
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Good. Then stay, and hear the story of "The Scarecrow."
Once upon a time, there was a Scarecrow, born of screams.
A sickly thing, really. Unloved, unwanted, undesirable. Unworthy of life, to most.
But he was given it anyway, maintained by an evil Sorceress. Every day since the Scarecrow was born, the Sorceress reminded him that he was worthless, an abomination before God, and unworthy of life.
And when he was big enough, the Sorceress put him to work in the fields. The sun scorched him and flies bit at him without mercy. But he learned not to complain, not ever.
Complaining was bad.
And when he was bad, the Sorceress punished him dearly. She would order him to dress in his special suit as a symbol of her generosity. And then she would summon down a flock of crows to peck and claw at the poor Scarecrow, cawing and shrieking at him as though enraged by his misbehavior.
For years, the Scarecrow lived under the Sorceress. Every day he
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Crows (Scarecrow/Riddler) Edward fumbled with the heavy key for a moment before finally getting the door open. He had to admire Crane’s taste in hideout; spacious but discrete, a small, abandoned estate on the grounds of a deserted asylum.Crows (Scarecrow/Riddler)7 months ago in Romance More Like This
He was only three steps down the hall when Crane nearly knocked him over.
“The hell, Crane?” The strawman didn’t reply, continued fumbling with the door, appearing almost frantic. It was worrying in a way that Edward couldn’t describe. It angered him more than a little, Crane’s irritating ability to put him at a loss for words.
“Crane? Crane, stop, dammit!”
He grabbed the taller man’s arm and yanked him around. The look in Crane’s pale eyes hit him with such force that he actually took a step back. His anger withered instantly under such a gaze.
It was fear. Not nerves or anxiety, but pure, bare
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Sta.sh
