Are You Afraid of the Dark?

Did it Work?

"Your Scarecrow mask?" I inquired, becoming slightly intrigued and coming to stand on the floor.

"Precisely." Jonathan smirked slightly.

"Sure vhy not?"

He grinned, a dark and unsettling grin, and opened his briefcase. "You know," he pulled out a tattered burlap mask, "before I was a criminal, I was a therapist at Arkham. I would wear this mask whenever I talked to the patients-" at this point, I thought I heard the hiss of air come from the mask and tensed, ready to move if something happened. "-and let me tell you, they just went..." He donned the mask. "...wild." With this said, he pushed a hidden button in the corner of his case, releasing a white gas.

Out of reflex, I grabbed a kitchen towel that was just to my right and covered my nose and mouth. He rushed at me, wrenching the towel away from my grasp and towering over me.

He grabbed my left arm tightly, his other hand holding my face, staring a hole in my head. I push him off me with a burst of shadow and sent him across the room, toppling over the couch.

I was clutching onto the counter for support from the spurt of horrific coughing that had torn my lungs to dust. I grabbed the still quite hot coffee that rested a few inches away and made myself down at least half of it. Though it seared my throat, it allowed me to dumb down the coughing albeit slightly.

He stood up sharply. "You should be experiencing your worst fears right now. Why aren't you screaming?!" He hissed and advanced at me again.

I held my hands up, challenging him to come closer. He stopped, not wanting to gain new bruises, but kept his stance ready to charge at me given the chance.

"Vhat in se actual Hell, Jonathan?" I inquired, looking at him dead-on and unwavering.

"Fear gas," He tilted his head as if to say 'What did you think it was, you dumb bitch?'

"I know sat, but vhy use it on me?"

He rolled his eyes. "The answer is obvious. I wanted to know what you were afraid of and currently, I don't care. I just want to know why it didn't work on you!"

"No-sing scares me." I answered curtly, not taking my eyes off him and picking up my coffee cup, taking a quick sip then replacing it on the counter.

"Bullshit. Everyone's afraid of something."

"Vell not me."

"Then you're not human."

I wavered for a second, brow furrowing. Not human? That thought has never crossed my mind. Ever.

My mind was swirling so fast I didn't notice Jonathan running at me, pushing me to the ground.

"You know what I hate about all sciences?" Jonathan asked, pinning me down. I struggled against him, not listening to his words. "Everyone's different." He brought out a Webley Mk VI revolver form his pocket and slammed it on my head.

<•>

My mind floated.

My body floated.

It seemed as though I was stranded in a void. An abyss. Never ending.

I couldn't move. Nothing worked. I couldn't open my eyes yet I saw everything.

Eventually, I could turn my head and ball my hands into fists. My thoughts became cohesive and my vision was lost.

Solitary blackness guarded me and my toes were cold.