Lucid Dreamer

[Yoshomika]

You...you think I'm funny? ^^ Thank you everyone, I do try.

-Yosho-chan

[§ilvercell]

*waits*

[Gobby]

for what?

[§ilvercell]

the story.

[stormy]

Excellent story! You so deserve an exalt for that! I've read a lot of fan fiction in a lot of fandoms, and I must say yours is one of the most well-written. Thanks for the wonderful read!

[azina]

Wait? Is it the end of the story? It doesn't seem like the end.

[seonedevinian]

oh, no, that wasn't the end. this is the end. well, not necessarily of Jane, but of the story. it's got closure, but not completely, so i hope you like it. i'm always reluctant to end characters, so keep in mind that anything can happen in the future.
so, the last chapter of Lucid Dreamer follows.

~o black, unending river~

It was darkness there. In the arms of a Scarecrow – he must have known what he was? Surely hearing the name held no surprise for him?

Jane gasped, and stiffened; her eyes suddenly snapped shut, to avoid seeing that monstrous, infested face so close. She held her breath; she was, inarguably, terrified. The next move was his.

“Ah, Jane”, he murmured, as one might on a particularly successful date. It was a little late in the game for seduction, Jane thought. Once one is in a straightjacket with a burlap sack over one’s head, the usual attraction has likely diminished. Though, she couldn’t deny a certain thrill as he tightened his hold, working his fingers gently through her hair. Oh, sure, she thought, now you act normal. Now that we’re both nuts.

His eyes, she saw as her own cracked open just slightly, were still blue. She could see them beyond the rough holes in the mask. If she concentrated hard enough, she could even make the maggots recede a little.

“Take the mask off”, she tried, in an attempt to reach past the Scarecrow to the man he may – once, long before she’d ever met him – have been. It was a long shot, one that depended on there still being a human under the hastily stitched together chaos. If there ever had been, and if there was any trace of him there now, Jane hoped he’d be willing to show himself.

A dark chuckle emanated from behind the false front; things weren’t looking good. “Why, dearie?” he asked, bringing her that much closer with the hand in her hair. “Do you not like my face? Do I scare you?”

“No”, she squeezed past her fear. “No, you…bore me. I can’t see your eyes, the…storm in your eyes.”

“I...bore you?” he repeated in disbelief. Even she had to admit it was a cheap shot in the dark, with no basis in reality. And the storm in his eyes? He would see through that in a second.

To confirm this, the hand not occupied with her hair tightened around her waist, holding her body against his. Despite herself, she melted into him, unable to keep up any respectable distance between doctor and patient.

“What about this?” he whispered. Her heart sped, galloped at the implications. He really was trying to scare her. “Don’t you like me like this?”

I think he fancies me, Mom.

The world was falling apart again, the walls crumbling, the park from her youth growing up in swing sets and darkness to replace them. The man before her was the one who’d attacked her then; he’d always been with her, for years and decades and lifetimes before the incident that had brought her here. He was the archetypal villain, her demon, her shadow. This Scarecrow had only been waiting for the moment to arrive for him to take his place inside her head, to worm his way into her life so he could conquer and devour everything he found there. Now, she was almost gone for good.

“No”, she said again. Last chance. She reached up, caught her fingers in the burlap over his head, and gently pulled it off. “So I can see you, see the real Scarecrow.”

Silence then, as time froze along with the doctor. The mask was gone, and underneath she saw something far more horrifying; human madness. The person had survived, inexorably altered, and that may have been worse than the actual death of Crane. The idea that humanity can remain in a bare shred to suffer along with the external victims of an insane man…that chilled Jane more completely than any of Crane’s own cold ministrations ever had. It was sympathy, mixed with terror, boiled to an intolerable, churning mass.

“There you are”, she said, shuddering inwardly. His eyes were ice, as always, but the Scarecrow behind them made his previous insanity seem empty in comparison. “You don’t need this.” She held up the mask at her side.

He hesitated; gaze locked on the burlap sack, he spoke in his unaltered voice. “I don’t need it,” he agreed. “I decide on it, I want it, it’s mine.” He lunged toward it, Jane still held tightly in one arm.

She took this opportunity with hardly a thought. As he pushed forward, turning her body slightly in the process, Jane twisted her steps into his; the result threw the doctor so far off-balance that both collapsed to the floor. He grunted in surprise as he landed on top of her. Quickly regaining himself, the Scarecrow pinned her arms at her sides; he was at first concerned at his loss of control, but soon laughed in relief.

“Jane,” he sighed finally. He lowered himself onto her, locking her to the floor with a weight surprising for his stature. “You always were my favorite patient.”

Closer, closer, and he made contact. He is only doing this to frighten me. Jane squirmed frantically, unable to escape his kiss. It was ruthless, without warmth or modesty; Jane was overcome.

Go on, girl. Do it again

No need to coax her this time; all, or nothing. Jane sucked him in, and closed her teeth around his lower lip with a cruelty to match his own.

This is kissing, this is love

A warm, coppery silk coated her mouth and chin; Scarecrow’s howls cut the air, piercing through the dream, bringing Jane back to life. She bucked, throwing him off of her. He scrambled to his feet, snatching the burlap mask from the ground and staggering away from her as she rose.

One hand clamped over his bloody mouth, the other tightly clutching his only barrier between himself and the real world, the unmasked Scarecrow finally gained a semblance of self-control. He straightened, regulating his breath, poking his tongue out to gauge the injury. He said nothing to Jane, but his eyes never left her. He was wary now, she noted with pleasure; he knew what she was good for, finally.

“You’re not the same,” he whispered eventually. She shook her head in denial, but he pressed on. “No, you’re changed, now. I changed you.”

“No,” she whispered fiercely; she was the same girl, her mother’s loving daughter, the normal teenager. “No, not true…”

“Yes,” he nodded, backing away. When his hand dropped from his face, Jane saw the damage done; blood still oozed darkly, but it didn’t gush as she had imagined. “I changed you.”

The shadows reached out from behind him, swallowing him whole. The perfect end to the perfect night terror; before her, the only sound was the receding laughter of a madman. Behind her, the sturdy click of a door was almost real enough to draw her back. Softly, footsteps padded, cautious in their approach. Jane turned.

“Jane?” Angie called faintly. She was still out of sight, somewhere beyond the curve of the hallway, between reality and here.

Glancing back in the direction of the Scarecrow’s escape, Jane gasped to see the shadows now reaching out to her; she jumped back, unsuccessfully. The darkness found her, embraced her, surrounded her, and soon she was blind.

“…Jane?…Jane …”

From here, the hazy light was easy to ignore. Somewhere far away, in the same place that the comforting young woman’s voice existed, came the disturbing sound of hoarse laughter. She tried so feverishly to reach it; her life stretched before her, a long dark hallway with a light and an Angel at the end. But the dark was a blanket, covering her and smothering her, and suffocating her return.

This is my nightmare, my world

She struggled, and felt nothing. Disconcerting...but she knew she’d never stop trying to wake up again, to reach that girl, and the sunlight, and her stable loving home; until then, the sounds of her new world would be the silence of panic, and the clamoring of rage.

For now she could contain the Fear, the panic, shape the nightmare into something she could bear; a foreign concept once. What had happened to that Jane?

Perhaps the dream had become her, after all.


~The End~

hmm..now that i read it, i'm not so sure...let me know what you think. gently, because i am sensitive.

and if anything's unclear, don't hesitate to ask. sometimes the things that make sense to me are obviously only in my head, y'know?
and thankyou all for sticking around til the end! it was fun to visit Arkham, but i wouldn't want to live there.

luv - sD

[Gobby]

nice ending...perfect conclusion actually....that was a good story.....
all i can say is good job.....bittersweet
i luv the wording...
i dunno....juss a GREAT JOB
xD

[Yoshomika]

The ending was well written and very discriptive, though confusing. *Holds back Hannah*

Hannah: YOU HURT MY MPGH!
Yosho: *covers her mouth* Er...sorry bout that >> *drags her away*

As I was saying... it was great, but maybe after reading it a coupple more times I can figure out what happened in the end.

-Yosho-chan

[jill]

“Jane,” he sighed finally. He lowered himself onto her, locking her to the floor with a weight surprising for his stature. “You always were my favorite patient.”

That struck me as hot, for some reason. Very hot. ;D

Actually, most of the chapter was hot in a really twisted way.

The ending was a little confusing at first just because your writing is so like...advanced, poetic. I'm not used to it. But I love how you showed that she was affected by him in such a huge way. I'm sad that it's ending though.

Angie sequel, maybe?

[azina]

I must say there is some seriously amazing writing in this piece. One of my favorite descriptions of his mask: "hastily stitched together chaos." And Jane "The Biter" finally gets her revenge on Scarecrow. How very fitting. You have a beautiful and poetic way with words that I am many times in awe of. I wonder what your original fiction is like.

[seonedevinian]

thanks folks! yes, it was a bit ambiguous, intentional to an extent, but i should clarify the parts that...should be clear, yes. so, the basic idea of what happened in the last few minutes of Jane's time with the Scarecrow is this: he pushes her, possibly only temporarily, over the edge. you can hear the crack of thunder when she thinks that he finally sees what she's good for, ie, her biting attacks. then she realizes what's become of her, and just as rescue approaches in the form of Angel, she slips into the same darkness she saw the Scarecrow escape into. she is changed now, disconnected from the reality she once called home, and she will be ever more trying to return to sanity. she may succeed, or she may not. time will tell, as they say. so thanks for reading!

[§ilvercell]

sequal!

[azina]

She is writing a sequel called Heart of Glass.