Oct 15, 2007 23:23
A cockroach crawled across Scarecrow’s face. Dr. Jonathan Crane would have flailed and knocked it off, possibly even screamed. But Scarecrow cared nothing for insects, unless they were the sort that ate straw. He didn’t care if they crawled across his skin, in his clothes, through his hair. His body was expendable, mortal. Inconsequential. His mind was eternal.
“But once we get out of here… Oh yes, we’re getting out. We helped design these cages. They can’t keep us imprisoned in our own walls. Oh no. That won’t do.”
They wouldn’t let him near mirrors any longer. Not after what he did to the last one. Or what it did to him, rather. It was really all relative. It wasn’t his fault that all the mirrors had strange faces in them… faces that look like masks. Black masks.
Mm… they’d be out of here soon. Batman wouldn’t let them stay in here too long. He missed them on the outside. After all, with no enemies out there to fight in the dark and the rain… what more is he than just another madman in a mask?
~
fourteen,
batman begins,
dark month,
batman,
scarecrow