The Spider Web (All 24 Chapters Up!!)

[latikono]

(Chapter Six - In Which the Scarecrow Steps Forward)


The bell rang, followed by the usual shuffling of feet and papers as class had ended. Natalie managed to once again ridicule Dahlia as she left, shoving through the crowd towards the door and shouting, "Help! Help! The vampire's out for my blood!" Her friends and most of the class laughed as they left. Dahlia remained up in the seating area, staring out the door and sighing angrily. Seated at his desk, Crane watched them leave, then looked to Dahlia. She trudged down to the floor and on her way out, glanced to him and asked with a mumbled tone, "It never gets any easier, does it?" And with that she left.

Perhaps it may, Miss Rhodes. Perhaps. Crane pondered to himself as he watched her figure trudge down the hallway beyond the door, seeing the occasional push from another student. Though intent on his experimenting and studying, he did indeed pity her. It was a shame for anyone to suffer such harassment. Though Crane paid little attention, until the next day in class when he noticed Dahlia's seat was empty. Not just that day, but the next two days as well. Dahlia was not one to miss class so often either, and she seemed perfectly healthy, at least physically.

After handing out an assignment, Crane sat at his desk to grade papers when he overheard Natalie's faint voice whispering to another student. I am not def, Miss O'Neil . . . But something he managed to pick up in her conversation grabbed his immediate attention.

". . . Oh yeah, she's totally hiding out in her shoebox." Natalie snickered.
"You really drove her to skip school?" One of Natalie's equally devious friends, Caitlin Barr, replied.
"Ya. I told that witch to basically be my dog, and she totally was all ignoring me and still going on all avoiding and stuff. So I just upped her dosage, and . . ."
Caitlin scoffed playfully. "You're such a biatch."
"Tch, I know." Natalie whispered back and the two giggled.

"Ladies." Crane finally had to speak up. He looked up from his papers though otherwise didn't shift in his seated position, and looked up to Natalie in particular. "Is there something you would like to share with the rest of the class?"
"No, Professor. I'm good." Natalie replied smiling, not taking this warning seriously.
"Then I suggest you get back to work on your assignment before it suddenly doubles in length." He warned. The two stifled their childish laughter and reluctantly did as they were told.

~**~**~**~**~**~

Natalie's bullying had been growing worse and worse every day, to the point where Dahlia'd be lucky to get away unbruised and with all of her belongings. Eventually, she just couldn't take it, and began to skip school. This, however, meant a big problem for Crane. Now that she wasn't in his class on a regular basis, it would be immensly difficult to track her down, since he had no clue where she lived and was sure no one else would since she was such a recluse and shy person. He did know that she at least visitted the area around the coffee shop and Killinger's department store once in a while. But even if he did find her, how appealing would it be for a teenager to have an adult figure approach them without circumstance and ask a personal favor? He needed her at the university. And to do that, he needed to solve this bothersome problem of hers . . .

Every night, Natalie and her clique would loiter about Gotham University's parking lot, laughing, chatting, and just enjoying themselves. This particular night, Natalie, Caitlin, and two other boys, Chris (Natalie's football-playing boyfriend) and Eric, were seated in the back of Natalie's boyfriend's pickup truck, sharing a pack of beer. Eric laughed and began, "So Witchy is really afraid to go back now?"
"Yup." Natalie said with pride, her boyfriend draping his strong arm over her slender shoulders. "I got rid of that biatch for good."
Caitlin then cut in while opening another can of beer, "I bet she's sitting in her bed right now crying her eyes out!"
"Oh, so for sure!" Natalie replied. "Jesus, she's such a loser. I don't know how she survived this long, and in Gotham of all places. I mean, hello-o."
"Ya, really."
Chris laughed and leaned forward, pulling himself up into a standing position. "Totally. Be right back, I'm gonna grab another pack." He jumped out of the vehicle, it bouncing slightly with the shifting of his heavy weight, and headed towards Eric's car to grab more beer. On his way however, he noticed a figure approaching him in the night's shadows. For a moment he waited with curiosity to see who it was, but once they were close, he let out a guffawed laugh. The figure that approached was a man dressed in a fine suit, overall normal looking . . . but he had a burlap sack over his head. A noose hung around the neck and two small eyeholes were cut out, and the crooked mouth was made from a long slit in the material that was held shut with twine stitching. A home-made scarecrow mask.

"Dude! Dude!" Chris continued to laugh hysterically, pointing to the unknown man as he looked over his shoulder to his friends who, by now, were also laughing. "Check this clown out!" He looked back towards the man and continued on, "S'not Halloween yet, man!" The stranger was silent, but continued to walk forward.

Suddenly, shock was spread onto all of their faces as he then took out a handgun from inside his jacket pocket, and pointed it to Chris. The pack of beer that he had retrieved fell from his hands and split open on the ground, and his face blanched quickly. Not even thinking, he turned around and took off like a bullet, panting in fear. The stranger then pointed the guns at the others, all of them still and afraid to even move. Finally, his deep voice spat out, "Get lost." They quickly leapt from the truck and began to sprint off as well, but before Natalie could get away, the Scarecrow headed up to her, stuck the gun to her temple and demanded calmly, "Not you."

And by now, Natalie was silently crying, tears streaming down her face. Ahh, the irony.

The Scarecrow took her by the arm with his free hand and moved her over to the side of the truck, then shoved her forward to lean over it. She pathetically whimpered, "W-What are y-you gonna do?"
"Give you the opportunity to see things in a whole new perspective." He grabbed her shoulder and roughly flipped her around, pointing the gun in her face. After a second of watching her continue to weep, he tucked the gun back into his jacket. Natalie watched him in curiosity, under the impression that she was free to go. No no, silly girl. I was just letting you simmer for a moment before showing you this.

Jerking his arm forward and extending out his palm, a white powder was released from his sleeve and into Natalie's face.

A shame the distraught Miss Rhodes was not first to taste my medicine . . . but you'll have to do.

Immediately she began to cough violently, her eyes shutting tightly as she fell to her knees. For a moment he watched her, waiting for the reaction, observing her reaction, the odor, the dose she inhaled . . . Finally she opened her eyes and slowly looked up to him, only to suddenly begin weeping once again. "No! NO!! Get away from me!!" She jerked backwards so quickly that she slammed against the side of the truck, The Scarecrow squatted as his bright blue hues gazed out in awe through the eye holes of the mask. She was even more terrified of him - God only knew what she was seeing, and how he wished he knew. He had given her a small dose of his special fear toxin, that would bring all of her nightmares to life. "Please, no! Don't!!" And her reactions were almost immediate. His invention was a complete success. All he needed now was to figure out if it was permenant or temporary, and . . .

"Natalie O'Neil." The Scarecrow shifted forward closer to Natalie, and took her throat threateningly. She stared right back into his eyes as his voice, most likely quite demonic sounding to her ears, spoke firm orders. "Do you know who I am?" She didn't utter a word, only her continued, rapid panting.

"I am Scarecrow. And should you wish to live, you'll do exactly as I say . . ."

~**~**~**~**~**~

"Oh, Miss Rhodes. We meet again." Crane waited around the coffee shop for what seemed like hours before he saw any signs of Dahlia. Purposely, he bumped into her once again to initiate conversation. While he was in quite a decent mood, she seemed simply sad - No surprise there. For now, he once again feigned ignorance. "I haven't been seeing you in class, lately. Something troubling you?"

Dahlia slowly nodded, then sighed as she fingered the neck strap to her camera. "Natalie's just . . . The bullying has gotten worse, Professor Crane. I just couldn't go to school anymore without getting shoved around or getting my things tossed around or stolen. Natalie's so evil."
"Interesting that you bring up Miss O'Neil." Crane smiled in his mind. "I got word this morning that she had been assaulted in the university's parking lot last night and has been taken to the hospital to treat some injuries."
"Really?" It wasn't a question of concern, but of disbelief, that someone as seemingly strong as Natalie was assaulted. "Wow . . . Who did it?"
Crane slightly smiled. "All that the few witnesses said was that it was an insane, armed man in a scarecrow mask. No sane person would run about in a scarecrow mask though, I'm sure." He lightly joked for comic relief. Dahlia too chuckled. "Well, if you feel up to it, the university is relatively safe for your return. Knowledge is a most valued thing, Miss Rhodes, and no one has the right to take that away from you." Crane nodded a farewell as he coolly headed off towards his home.

The next day, Dahlia's seat was still empty. Disappointed and further annoyed, he just kept on with his lecture until he heard the classroom door open. Pausing briefly, he turned to see Dahlia heading inside, panting and with a light sweat on her forehead. "I'm sorry. Woke up late." She threw Crane a small smile before placing her late pass on his desk and quickly heading up to her seat. Once settled in, the professor smiled towards her before continuing on with the lesson.

[seonedevinian]

wow, your writing is really nicely done, latikono. a very engaging Crane story. please post more soon!

man, i'm so glad Natalie got hers. exalt!

[latikono]

^^ I never grow weary of your sweet compliments. Thank you very, very much.

[Murchadh]

I just read this chapter thismorning at Fanfiction, and I agree that natalie got what she had coming to her. You do a very good job on Crane's personality too ^^

[dior4ever]

awesome story!!!

[latikono]

(Thank you for all the compliments. ^^ It really helps keep me going, you're all very sweet.

Chapter Seven - In Which Ulterior Motives are Discovered)

After class, Crane once again kept Dahlia for several moments to discuss somehting with her. And now that she had most definately considered him a good and only friend (besides Cat of course), the nervousness she usually held was gone. She was calm and serene, and definately more approachable, almost like a whole new person. Smiling, she questioned, "You need to talk to me about something?"
Crane stood silent for a moment, left arm crossed over his chest and his right hand's fingers running idly down his cheek and slowly back and forth over his chin. "Yes, though I do hope this doesn't come out as . . . awkward." He smiled and gave a short chuckle. "I wish to perform a behavioral study, Miss Rhodes. And frankly, I couldn't think of a more appropriate subject than yourself."
Her cheeks flushed. "Me? Why?"
"Do you think I could persuade any other student on this campus without having them question my ulterior motives?" He replied with a hint of humor. Dahlia hesitantly laughed before nodding several times.
"Ya, I understand. Sure then, I'll do it. Anything for you, Professor Crane." She quickly regretted those words, and looked away shyly. Why the hell would I say something like that?! I'm so stupid sometimes.
Crane gave a charming laugh. "Why, thank you, Miss Rhodes."

When Dahlia looked back towards Crane, he was still gazing upon her in a way that she could only observe as being how one would examine a painting or similar work of art. A heavy sense of intimidation swept over her. Finally he said, "Meet me at my home on Friday, around nine o'clock in the evening. Is that alright for you?" She nodded, barely paying attention to his words as all her focus was on his eyes. She made en effort to truly pay attention, but just slipped into a light day-dream. "Good then." Resting a hand on her back, Crane then gently eased her forward and walked by her side towards the door. "And, may I ask that you keep this study to yourself. One could only imagine the kinds of rumors that would buzz if others like Miss O'Neil were to find out."
"Ya . . . Oh! Yes, yes Professor." Returning to her senses, Dahlia nodded once again before scurrying out of the classroom in a noticably excited manner. There seemed to be a slight skip in her step.

Professor Crane's going to study me? Me? Oh my goodness, I could die. I could just die. This just might be . . . No, this will be the best day of my life!

And her giddy nature even persisted through her hours of studying and catching up in the university's library she had to do that very afternoon. But nothing else in the world mattered at this point, nothing but Jonathan Crane.

~**~**~**~**~**~

Studying went quite poorly; All Dahlia did was scribble nonsensical babble onto a sheet of notebook paper and day-dream while staring blankly ahead. Of what? Crane of course. All her thoughts revolved around him that day. He was so sweet and kind, charming, charismatic, handsome, friendly . . . She could go on and on. But she had no time - It was getting pretty late, and the library was finally closing, and a librarian would soon kick her out. So, Dahlia quickly scooped up her books and papers and half walked, half skipped out of the doors and down the hallway.

Around one of the corners inside however, she overheard two girls loudly discussing quite an interesting topic - They must not have known Dahlia was still on campus, otherwise they would have been far more cautious in their words.

". . . Oh, that is so stupid. I can't believe the police haven't figured it out yet. Duh."
"I know, really. Everyone knows that all Natalie does around campus is rag on Witchy and . . ."
"Hey, shut up! You might jinx us. After all, Natalie got attacked for picking on Dahlia."
"True, true . . . I wonder who did it though. Who had the guts to do something that horrible to her."

As they exited the building, their words gradually became inaudible. And in its place, Dahlia was left giggling to herself in pure ecstacy. All because of this one maniac in a scarecrow mask, Dahlia suddenly found some amount of peace. It costed Natalie quite a bit . . . But . . . She enjoyed it. It was easy to notice that a lot of people backed off from bullying on her so heavily, and some even began to ignore her altogether. The pushes and shoves were mostly nervous accidents now, no glares or threats were thrown, and whenever someone did rag on her, they quickly added a 'just kidding' to it and a smile. Even if it was out of fear, of intimidation of this character in a burlap sack . . . It was everything Dahlia dreamed of. Not friends, not popularity - Just peace. And if it costed a mean girl's reputation, physical well being, and some of her nerves, then so be it. Dahlia justified it with the rule of karma.

Suddenly she wondered if Crane was still on campus. She was very inclined to just go on and on to him about her thoughts and of what she had just heard - He seemed like the type of person she could talk to more personally. Plus, it would be nice to just say hello and see his smiling face. So, Dahlia took a different route and came around towards the psychology classroom. There was a light in the square window, so he must have still been in. But as she approached it, she noticed right off the bat that he seemed busy with something . . .

Many loose papers were sprawled across his desk as if he had been looking and reading through them all, and four bottles of different sizes were resting near a stack of books off on the corner. Each one had a thin, white strip across it, a label, none of the text large enough for Dahlia to see so far away. Crane finally came into view as he walked towards his desk, having not noticed her yet. He flipped through several documents, picking up one of the bottles every so often to examine it. Then he began towards the door, and luckily his eyes were diverted toward some papers as Dahlia quickly ducked down, ran around the corner, and hid. Several seconds later, she heard his calm footsteps head in the opposite direction.

Slowly slinking back around the corner, Dahlia watched for several seconds as his figure disappeared into one of the nearby classrooms. It looked like the chemistry class. No big deal, if not for the fact that he was using a strange looking key to unlock it and enter. Plus, when she went back to the psychology classroom, she found the door locked and the lights shut off, and she could barely make out the documents and bottles strewn across the desktop. He seemed somewhat suspicious. What was he hiding? Her own curiosity got the better of her, as she then snuck over to the chemistry class and took a look through the window into the dark room. Crane was hunched down in front of a cabinet, unlocking it and searching through the chemicals for something important. Again, the darkness and distance showed only blurry labels to Dahlia, but she was observant enough in her few trips to the area to know exactly what he was searching for.

A toxin, or a poison of some sort. Something very serious, as the particular cabinet was off limits to students. Immediately she stifled vocalizing her surprise, laying a hand over her mouth. What did he need with such dangerous materials? She was definately no chemist, but she knew that such things were of no use to ordinary people. Crane was certainly up to something, but what? She didn't know. It was already difficult believing that he would be snooping around - So far, she had only convinced herself that he needed it for a special study or experiment. No no, Professor Crane is just in need of some special materials for an experiment of some kind. No big deal . . . Then why was he being so secretive about it?

Again Dahlia had to hide around the far corner as Crane emerged from the classroom, taking a careful look around before locking the door behind him and heading back to his own classroom. Once the hallway was safe, she quickly headed for the parking lot, down the sidewalk, and off to her apartment, making mental note to forget about her own snooping.

[seonedevinian]

wow, sinister. i hope...well, we all know Crane by now, i think. still, i like Dahlia, she's a sympathetic character. very well done! i wonder what exactly Crane has in mind. post more soon!

[latikono]

(Chapter Eight - In Which Natalie Gets a Visitor.)


"Scarecrow! Scarecrow! Look at the puny Scarecrow!"
"He's so funny looking and such a geek!"
"Get a load of the freak!"

The preteen was battered with rotten apple cores and empty soda cans as he fled down the street, his long legs keeping him running quick. All the others followed him, calling at him and taunting him, betting each other who could hit him the most times with thrown projectiles. One managed to get the lanky boy in the head with large rock, and laughed as he stumbled, nearly falling, and barely managing to pick himself up in time to escape their fists.

"Leave me alone!" He wailed, tears streaming down his cheeks. It continued on for years . . . even through his high school years. Old bullies continued to harass him, beating him every other day because they "felt like it," or "just wanted to." One day when the threats were minimal, he approached the girl he had a crush on for well over half of the semester.

"Becky?"
She turned from her group of friends to face him in curiosity, her lovely green eyes relaxed. "Yes?"
". . . Would you . . . Would you like to go out on a date, with . . ."
His meek question was interrupted as she said in a bitter tone, "No. Not interested." She turned her back to him, leaving him in shock and utterly crushing his heart.

Suddenly he stood in the school parking lot, dressed in a ghoulish scarecrow costume and with a gun in hand, sprinting towards Becky and her boyfriend's car which was speeding off in haste. Inside the two were howling and screaming in fear, only desperate to escape. But their haste made them foolish, foolish enough to swerve into the opposite lane and right for the bright headlights of an oncoming truck . . .

Crane's eyes flickered for a moment before he slowly opened them, eyelids drooping. He was slouched over on the arm of his sofa in his living room. Safe and sound in his own home . . . Light persperation was formed on his forehead and cheeks, which he then wiped away with the back of his hand, sighing silently in relief. The nightmares never seemed to end for him, and even haunted him in his dreams. At least now he could handle it without having to run home crying, or brandish a gun and solve the problem with something as lenient as death.

Sheryl crowed, flapping her wings and soon taking off from her perch to land on Crane's shoulder. Smiling, he sat up and ran his hand over her feathers. "Good evening, Sheryl. Thank you for reminding me that my night's work is not over." Leaning forward carefully, he took his glasses from the coffee table and gently slipped them on, then stood and headed for the basement door. "Gathering my materials went smoothly. Now it's time to check up on the medicine." He twisted the knob and pulled the door open, and looked down into the laboratory.

The walls were and floor were all stone in a light, dusty grey color, and the ceiling lights casted a bright, golden light over the entire area. Tables were spread throughout the room, bottles of chemicals, glass containers, and strange steel devices galore. It was like a factory. Liquids of all colors were being poured into large vats by several of Crane's hired thugs, each sporting rubber gloves, while the other brutish-looking men were following very careful and detailed instructions as they went about preparing it. And each of them paused in their work to look up at Crane, descending the stairs with his bird perched on his shoulder and his hands coolly clasped behind his back.

"As you were." Crane ordered, and they all soon returned to their tasks. As if one of his workers as well, Sheryl flew to her wall perch at the bottom of the staircase. Heading for the far table on the wall adjacent to the staircase, he looked over the seemingly plain miniature spray bottles, each lined neatly in a row. Leaning over to get a better look, he at the same time questioned the nearby worker, "You've checked each of these to make sure they contain the permenant solution, all ready for testing?"
"Ya, boss. That there's the good stuff, we hope."
"Perfect." Crane carefully took three and slipped them into his jacket pocket. "Keep up the good work."
"What about this stuff?" One of the thugs on the opposite table lifted up the steel lid to a large container, revealing a white powder inside. A nearby man, a bit brighter than the first, planted his hand over the lid and lowered it back to cover the dangerous substance, meanwhile shaking his head as a warning.
"Leave it." Crane replied. "It may be of some use to me in the future."
Seeing that production was going smoothly, Crane headed back up the staircase, Sheryl rejoining him. Before the door however, he stopped and turned back to face them all. "I expect none of you to be here tomorrow night - I have important personal matters to attend to. Consider it a holiday." To his announcement, they all nodded and returned to work as Crane slipped back into his home.

~**~**~**~**~**~

Once at the hospital, Crane put on a generally thoughtful expression over his face as he approached the counter, briefcase in hand. Craning his head over slightly, he asked in a low, shy tone, "Ah, may I ask where I may find a Miss Natalie O'Neil? I believe she was brought in a couple of nights ago."
"Yes, I remember her." The chubby nurse nodded, flipping through several papers busily. "Relation?"
"I'm her professor at Gotham State University. I just wanted to check up and visit her. Poor girl's had it rough." Crane's eyebrows creased upwards in false concern. He then shook his head and let out a short sigh. "It's a shame when those as innocent as mere teenagers are so viciously assaulted."
"Ya. And the poor thing only started recovering this morning." The nurse bought it. "You'll find her in room 2080."
Smiling, Crane replied, "Thank you." before heading for the elevator. She only showed signs of recovery this morning. So the toxin is temporary, and lasts three days. We can do better than that.

He found the room with general ease, and after checking to make sure no one else was inside, he entered quietly and shut the door behind him. He also double checked that the window in the door through which one could peer in showed only the short corridor to the bed - It would appear as though no one was inside. Yet still, he'd have to be quick so that none would see what he was up to.

Natalie was sleeping soundly on the bed in a hospital gown. Crane smiled as he noticed that, like Dahlia had been over a week earlier, Natalie's neck and face were bruised, and several scrapes lined her arms from the frantic struggle she had put on the other night. She might have had a bruised or broken rib or two as well - Natalie certainly was a difficult one to hold down and get to cooperate . . . He took a seat in a chair near the bed, placing his briefcase nearby, and simply began to observe and examine her, until she woke up, that is. Only minutes later, her eyes flickered open. At first, she didn't notice anyone in the room . . . but once she sensed his watching eyes, she stared with a mixture of curiosity and nervousness right back at him.

"Good morning, Miss O'Neil. How are you feeling?"
"Like crap." She replied bluntly. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she was on to him, or at least highly suspicious, with how she looked at him and seemed frozen in her upright seated position. "I was attacked by some creep and my friends ran away without me. What do you think? I thought you were supposed to be a psychology teacher."
Crane smiled. "Do you remember anything that happened since then?"
"What?" Natalie had a big mouth. "No, it felt like I was in a nightmare. Every little phobia I had came to be like real life-threatening nightmares because of that arsehole in a stupid mask . . . Why do you care? What are you doing here?"
"Can you clearly visualize the culprit?"
Natalie suddenly paused. Her eyes narrowed and her head craned forward. "Uhh, ya . . . I wanna know what you're doing here because I think you're the big shot. Guilty as charged."

Crane scoffed, as if her comment was an insult. "What makes you say that?" However, he kept his smile.
". . . You warmed up to Vampire girl. Other people may think it's just an every day think for a teacher and a student to become friends of some sort, but not her, and not you. It's so obvious when you told me to leave that witch alone after spraying me with who knows what. And now, just as soon as the doctors hear about it, you're gonna pay." She lifted her head up high, bright enough to put pieces of a grand puzzle together, but not quite keen to see that she and Crane were alone together, and that she had just opened her mouth too far. And it was a shame, too - He still needed more information on the toxin he had given her that night, but she obviously was not willing to provide. She was a threat to him now.
Sighing, Crane glanced down towards the floor, his hair falling to shield his face. Curiously Natalie watched him for several moments, just about to ask another pointless question, before he finally lifted his head up and removed the glasses from his face, resting them on the nearby table. His unblinking eyes gazed upon her, smile no longer planted smugly across his lips, as he asked a question that sent chills up the patient's spine.

"Would you like to see my mask?"

Her taut throat seized her desperately wanted cry for help. Crane picked up his briefcase and rested it over his lap, unclasping the buckles to open it. She shook her head, declining the cruel offer and wishing desperately now to have taken back all that she said.

"It's probably not scary to someone like you, who's courage and willpower surpasses that of many girls around your age . . ."

Slowly, she pushed herself back, trying to slide away from him, but the frame of the bed kept her from going far. Her breathing became quicker. Crane could sense her fear as he took out the scarecrow mask and held it out for her to clearly see, modeling it with a gesture of his free hand.

". . . but that only comes with some aid."

He slipped it over his head, and stood, placing the briefcase back on the desk near his glasses. Calmly he stepped closer to her, holding his arms out to his sides and slightly tilting his head to one side, peering at her through the ghoulish mask's eye holes.

"I prepared a perfect prescription, just for you, Miss O'Neil."

Just then Natalie's nerves had finally released her voice from it's cage within her chest. However, it was quickly stifled as he pulled his arm forward and released a white gas from a canister hidden within his sleeve, directly into her face. She coughed violently, And this time, Natalie O'Neil would be stifled permenantly.

[dior4ever]

everyone here are such talented writers!

[latikono]

Oh my . . . Thank you very much.

Though unfortunately I haven't gotten around to looking at much other fan fics, other than Hemlockspider's . . .

[dior4ever]

they are all so awesome!!!

[latikono]

(Chapter Nine - In Which Dream Becomes Nightmare

I hope you're imaginations are as cinematic as mine, because I was thrilling myself while writing this and proof reading it. ^^ I'm all giddy like a school girl.)



Caitlin purposely bumped into Dahlia in the crowded hallway before classes began. At first Dahlia was going to continue on and ignore it, as she learned to do throughout the years of bullying, but the fact that Caitlin had shifted quickly to stand in her way, she grew curious of what the popular had to say. So, her eyes lifted from the floor and met Caitlin's bitter hues. For a moment she just waited there, questioning with her raised eyebrows what she was to say, shifting her weight over onto one leg.

"Natalie's condition got worse." She said in an almost suspicious manner. Dahlia listened quietly, this news very surprising on her ears, yet her compassion already gone. "I got word that just this morning, an hour or two ago, that she turned completely crazy. They said she was screaming and kicking, and every chance she got tried to either run out of the hospital or stab a random nurse with a pair of scissors. She managed to get one of the doctors though, in the neck, among a few other plaes. They don't know if he'll make it or not." Another pause. "They decided to send her to Arkham, so she doesn't hurt herself or anyone else."
Finally Dahlia spoke up, one of her eyebrows lifting. "Why are you telling me this?"
Caitlin stepped forward, hovering right over the shorter girl. "Because I think you have something to do with it."
Dahlia, calm and in one of her more defensive moods, spoke up for herself, "You go ahead and think whatever you want, because as long as I know I'm innocent, nothing else matters. Plus, the Scarecrow was a man around 5'10" - I'm 5'02". Get your facts straight before going and accusing people."

But as she began once again for class, Caitlin intervened again, and quickly spat out, "So what are you and Professor Nerd doing tonight?"
"What?" She hadn't told anyone . . . so how did . . . ?
"I was eavesdropping, duh." Caitlin rolled her eyes. "So, is this where he recruits a bunch of his $l*tty girl students and sleeps with them?" Dahlia then rolled her eyes, and finally shoved by Caitlin, plowing on ahead and ignoring whatever else she might have called out.

You're the $l*t. I have nothing but the utmost respect for Professor Crane . . . I think. What was he doing last night?

Dahlia day-dreamed and thought hard about Crane's secretive lark the previous night all during psychology. Even the dismissal bell didn't stir her from deep thoughts, only her teacher's light shake of her shoulder. "Miss Rhodes, class has ended." Dahlia shook her head and stared up at him, an apologetic look on her face for having missed most all of the lesson. Before she could say anything, he simply smiled and continued, "Rough night?"
"Oh . . . n-no, not really." She replied, standing and gathering her things together. Crane slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned over on the desk next to Dahlia's. "I'm so sorry, Professor Crane. I just have a lot on my mind. Home life has its ups and downs too." In her hurry to organize her beloingings, one of her notebooks fell from the table, but Crane swiftly reached out and caught it.
As he handed it to her, he replied, "Don't worry, I understand. You didn't miss much."
Smiling back, she took the notebook and put it on the stack set in front of her. Then lifting all of her things carefully, she nodded. "I swear, I'll take the time to study up over the weekend." And she quickly made her way out of the seating area, but didn't get far past the first row of desks before Crane called out to her.

"You haven't forgotten our arrangments already, have you, Miss Rhodes?"
She had completely forgotten. But, what if the strange chemicals Crane had gathered were meant for her? What if they were meant for this seemingly innocent behavioral study? What was he going to do - Poison her and study how many times she twitched before she'd pass out?
No no no . . . That's silly. Crane respected her and thought of her as a friend, right? And friends don't poison friends. She had to stop being so neurotic.

Dahlia turned to face him and said with a bright smile, "No, of course not, Professor! Nine o'clock, right?"
"Yep." Crane replied. "At my home."
"Okay. See you then." She left quickly.

~**~**~**~**~**~

It must have been at least half an hour that Dahlia spent standing at the front door to Crane's secluded home. She was, quite literally, shaking in her boots, and every time she reached out to knock on the door, something in her nerves caused her to jerk back in terror, as if it were covered in roaches and spiders. The conflicting sides in her head refused to settle, leaving her suspicious of her quiet psychology teacher, and yet at the same time unable to believe he was up to anything.

Dahlia's eyes shot up in surprise as the door creeked open, Crane standing inside with a curious look on his face. "Miss Rhodes? How long have you been standing there?"
Crap!
"Oh, h-here?" Dahlia said as a filler while she frantically thought, trying her best to be more nonchalant. "Just a second. I was just studying the . . . the beautiful architecture of your home. This place must cost a fortune."
Glancing around to the other houses and buildings beyond the street, Crane stepped out of the door frame and replied while keeping his eyes peeled, "It's much more affordable than one would assume." Then looking to the girl with a smile, he said sweetly, "Please, come in. I'm glad you showed up."

Sheryl let out a loud shriek, startling Dahlia and causing her to suddenly turned towards the bird in an almost defensive posture. Hoping Crane didn't notice, she acted as if nothing had happened and quickly headed for the sofa, taking a seat and keeping her spine straight and upright. She quickly smoothed her bangs down over her forehead, and a nervous foot tapped to a quick and silent beat.

"You seem nervous tonight." Crane said, his eyes narrowing slightly, as he walked towards her, feet softly plodding along the plush carpet. "Is something bothering you?" As he came closer, his hands came to rest atop the sturdy back of the sofa, leaning forward in curiosity to look at Dahlia's face.

. . . That's it, I shouldn't be so nervous. I'm probably insulting our friendship by acting like I used to, and he can probably tell. He's a psychology buff after all, and I bet he's just being polite and not saying anything. I'm so stupid . . . What's there to be nervous about? I trust Professor Crane. I trust him. And he deserves some trust, after allowing me inside his home and into his personal life.

Looking over her shoulder to him, Dahlia smiled and replied in as kind a tone as she could, "No, not anymore. I'm sorry, I guess I'm just having difficulty letting go of a few stresses from earlier. I'm okay now, really." She pivoted in her seat to face him.
Nodding, Crane replied as he stood upright, "Very well. Would you like something to drink? Water, tea . . . ?"
"No, thank you." She declined.
He nodded once again. Then he glanced towards one of the doors of another room and said with hushed benevolence, "Ah, well, I need to prepare a few things for the study. Would you mind waiting a few minutes?"
"No, that's okay. Take your time."
"It will only be a moment." Crane threw her one more smile before he went off to the other room, shutting the door behind him.

As if that was some sort of cue, Sheryl fluttered from her perch and off towards the arm of the sofa Dahlia was now reclining on with relaxation. Stretching her arms out, she ran her slender fingers along the pillows and the soft fabric, a smile still planted over her face. Her cheeks were tinged a slight pink as her thoughts continued to stir around Crane. Now that she had finally managed to push her paranoia aside, she realized just how hard she was crushing on him. Being inside his house was a blessing to her, and sitting on the same sofa he must have sat on on a regular basis somehow stirred up her excitement and joy.

How crazy must I be to have not trusted Professor Crane? Oh, wait, what was his first name? Jonathan, right? Jonathan Crane . . . He has such a nice name. I bet he rounds up a lot of female admirerers, too. I'm so lucky that he chose me for this study . . . and so lucky to have him as a friend. A friend who has experience my pain at that, so he understands me, and respects me. Well, anyway, I can be so paranoid sometimes . . .

Sheryl gave another caw as she suddenly flew off for a different door nearby the kitchen entrance, sticking her beak in the tiny creak between the actual door and its frame. Cleverly she shoved it open slightly and squeezed through, cawing several more times as if trying to alert attention . . . or trying to play the role of Lassie. Dahlia giggled to herself and leaned back forward, peering towards the door. "Sheryl, what are you up to?" She stood and sighed as she headed for the door, ready to retrieve the crow and take her back into the living room. Resting her hand ont he door knob, she opened it up to step through . . .

. . . and found an amazing sight below. It was Crane's basement, and every single suspicion Dahlia had suddenly became true. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she looked over each of the tables from the top of the stair case, slowly descending with her hand sliding down the wood rail. Though the lights weren't on, she could still make out each of the vats, the machinery, the steel containers and clipboards strewn about . . . Sheryl had found a comfortable spot on the closest table that Dahlia had then approached, gazing at the container and finding herself reaching out to touch it with curiosity. Slowly, as if it were made of a thin glass, she lifted the lid and leaned over to peer inside - It looked like a white powder. Not sure of what else it could possibly be, she concluded it to be cocaine.

So this is what Crane was doing. He was manufacturing drugs of some sort and was probably needing the poison from the chemistry class to stifle anyone who found out, right? Or maybe, he was to put the poison in the drugs themselves, to kill people or make them sick. Whatever the story was, Dahlia did not want to stick around to find out.

With haste, she turned and headed back up the stairs as quietly as she could, hushing her rapid breaths. However, she was probably concentrating too hard on the steps toa void tripping . . . as she slammed right into a warm object that gave in slightly to her push. Quickly looking upwards, she came to meet the cold blue eyes of a man in a scarecrow mask. And as she let out a blood-curdling scream, he rushed forward and tackled her, and attempted to pin her up against the wall.

Eight years of Aikido martial arts were not completely gone from her memory, and Dahlia quickly put it to use as she landed an instinctive right hook into the side of the masked menace's gut. He gave a grunt and hunched forward, giving her just enough room to frantically tear away from his grip and sprint as fast as she could towards the front door and to freedom.

But freedom wouldn't come so easily. The Scarecrow's powerful hands quickly came up from behind and he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up off of the floor and turning around as she flailed and continued to scream. One of her elbows managed to make contact with his face, another grunt escaping his throat, though his hold held strong. Trying her best to think and strategize, Dahlia swiftly jerked her foot back and felt the heel of her boot make contact with his knee. His third grunt was louder than the rest, and losing his balance with the surge of pain, the two both fell onto the floor. Though this stranger too was thinking ahead, and managed to land atop her, both hands holding her wrists down above her head and his throbbing knee planted over her upper legs, doing his best to hold her down.

And it was working as well. Dahlia could only lift her abdomen from the floor, doing her best to jerk free, but no such luck. Her head turned quickly from side to side as she screamed desperately, pleading in a raspy, wailing voice, "No!! Please, let me go! Let me go!! Please, please!! Don't hurt me!!" As if signalling her silence, the Scarecrow pushed himself into a more upright position, adjusting Dahlia's captured wrists so that he could hold them with one hand.

His unnervingly calm voice didn't need to be so loud in volume nor sharp or demanding to grab her immediate attention. "I understand your pain, Dahlia. And I want to help you."

Dahlia's tightly shut eyes finally opened, wide, red and puffy with her sobs. She looked up to the masked man, her lips trembling with fear, as she watched him take the bottom half of the burlap sack and pull it up and off of his head. His brown locks, now free from the close captivity, fell into thin and pointed strips over his forehead and sides of his face. Still grasping the mask, he rested his hand back on the floor to help balance himself, otherwise unmoving from his dominant position over his prisoner. The same blue hues now seemed less threatening and with less malice.

". . . P-P-Prof . . . Professor . . . Crane . . . ?"

[latikono]

LMAO . . . . Goodness, I simply must share this really, really nice feedback someone on Fan Fiction.net left for me for this last chapter. It made me laugh so hard, and in my head I went, "Then my subtle fan girl work has been done!!":


"Amazing detail in the last section of this chapter. You're doing great, you should definitely get more feedback cause the story is really good. Keep up the good work.

And yeah, the last few parts had me going "guh, hot". lol. "

[seonedevinian]

yeah, that is kinda hot! keep it up - i love the attention to all the details in Crane's house. nice work.

[Murchadh]

OMG please don't leave it there i'm loving it so much. *blushes* I agree, it is hot *cough* I'm glad he showed her who he was, though I am very interested to see where he takes this little incounter with Dahlia.