Characters:
hatesafrica and
ornithophobiaWhere: Some street in the city.
Rating: Probably PG-13.
Time: August 2nd.
Description: Rachel goes to get herself more acquainted with the town and all the stores, and has an unexpected meeting along the way.
(
Another one bites the dust. )
"I'll scream!" She said, looking wildly around the street and praying somebody else was there. Unfortunately for her, it seemed they were the only two people on the alley right now. She picks up a shoe, holding it behind her, as though she's taking aim. Not that a shoe would deter him in the slightest; but hey, it was all she had available. She moves down the wall slowly, praying he wouldn't follow her. She wasn't that stupid, though, and she would probably start running if he took a few more steps in her direction.
"I-I'm warning you, I'll scream, and I can scream real loud. Somebody's sure to hear me." She bluffed, trying to stop her knees from shaking so violently.
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He held his hands out, palms outwards to show the girl how empty and weapon-free they were (for the time being.) Obviously she was on the verge of flight, and although he doubted that he could do anything to significantly placate her, perhaps the gesture would buy him more time to enjoy this.
"You're right, I'd be crazy to try anything now," Scarecrow said, not deigning to mention that the screams were more or less what he was planning on getting. "Luckily for you, I'm a very reasonable person despite what you may have heard. I don't intend to hurt you." Which is sort of true. He hazarded a few steps forward, as if around a cornered animal. At least he could be sure this one wouldn't bolt very far.
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She took a few steps back hurriedly as he advanced, almost tripping over the one high heel she still had on. It didn't really help her coordination to have one foot be three inches higher off the ground than the other foot, so she reaches down slowly and pulls the shoe off, taking care not to let her eyes leave his face. She was breathing harder, no doubt because of the huge amount of adrenaline moving through her body, but she couldn't let herself panic right now, no matter how tempting it was to be sick at this moment.
"Reasonable people don't tend to wear masks." She said, hoping to distract him until she could think of a good escape route. She looked to both sides, hopefully subtly; however, he could just chase her either way. She tried to fight back the tears that were coming up, blinking rapidly.
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"Actually, it may just be simpler to show you what I use it for," he offered. "But first, a quick dose of medicine--"
And without further warning, in one practised motion he took one large step forward and brought his arm up, outstretched, a white dust-like cloud of poison dispersing from the sleeve.
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She coughed, in the meantime, and waved her hand in front of her face to get the gas away. As her hand moved by her eyes, she saw the first one; an ant, crawling over her finger. She grimaced, flicking it away with another finger. It managed to stay on, though; then she noticed more, over her hands and arms. She started brushing them off, rubbing her arms with her hands. When this didn't do anything, she held her face in her hands, trying to stop from panicking. They're only bugs, she told herself; they can't do any permanent damage.
That was when she felt them crawling over her legs, her feet, her waist, her everywhere. She felt them over her face, even in her mouth. She spat onto the ground, hoping it would get rid of some of the creatures. Instead, she felt them crawling down her throat. She didn't know how they got there, and she didn't care; she felt them under her clothes, and then crawling over her eyes. She couldn't see anything, and reaching blindly for the side of the building. She felt them crawling through her hair--
That's when Rachel started screaming.
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"Aha, you weren't exaggerating. You really can scream." It wasn't too late yet and he knew he'd have even less time than he had with Rhode the evening before -- a setback that was a lot more irritating now that he had to confront it -- but the girl was a stranger and so he had little interest in spending too much effort picking apart her mind. "Let me guess-- spiders? Snakes? Rats?"
Scarecrow shot a glance behind him, making sure that undue attention hadn't already been drawn, then approached-- just another reason for her to scream. She'd been doing a good job of being terrified when he had before, even without the fear gas, so...
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"N-No! Stay away... Stay away from me!" Rachel cried, putting her hands over her face to try and get the image of that mask out of her head. After a few seconds, she looked up; when it wasn't gone, she moved away again. She pressed her hands against the wall and moving slowly forward on her knees through the sea of ants, moaning as she felt them moving over her legs.
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After a little rummaging, he found something that was probably the communicator, except it was more like half a compact mirror and half a cell phone. He lies low for two days, and suddenly everyone's outfitted with new "technology," huh? Talk about timing. Letting the purse fall to the ground, Scarecrow walked briskly over to where the girl was kneeling on the ground. Ignoring her attempts to crawl away through whatever delusions she was experiencing, he seized her wrist.
"For your sake, I hope very much that this will get through to you. Now, you'll need this--" he explained, forcing the communicator into her hand, "--to call for help, otherwise I can't guarantee what the state of your mind will be after a few hours. You can send a message to all your friends, tell them to come find you, say how horrible it all was-- and if you're lucky, then maybe this will all be over soon."
No knives, hopefully. "Understand?"
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Just thinking about it made her start to panic again, and she took deep breaths to try and calm herself. She could hear small snippets of what he was saying. He... wanted her to call? Well, she sure wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste, and she searched for the red button they had talked about. She could barely see it, under the ants. When she felt the man's hand leave her wrist, she backed up frantically, searching for the button. She shook the device, trying to get some of the insects off, and finally saw the button. She pushed her thumb down on it hurriedly. Whether or not it could hear her, she began to scream at it.
"H-Help! Please, help me...! They're all over me and they're biting and... Oh God, please, someone come!" She calls, breathing heavily as she practically yells the words. She holds the communicator tight in her hands, but curls herself into a ball, resting her head on her knees; she begins to sob, holding her hands over her eyes.
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He rose and gave the girl some space -- no, no sign of knives from this one yet, but better safe than sorry -- and shrugged at her display. "But you're not going to get them off you that way. If you're holding out hope that help will arrive before they consume you whole... I wouldn't count on it."
...Whatever "they" were. It'd be interesting to see if this one would be the first to go truly mad, but he'd have to check up on the effects later -- time to abscond before help did arrive. With that, Scarecrow left the girl to her own devices.
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