They Scream and They Cry >> (Scarecrow/OC fanfiction)

Monster.

RIOT'S POV

"You turn the TV on, watch it if you dare

You see a politician and you start to pull your hair

But it's all two dimension, see there's really nothing there

You wanna tell them what you think,

you think they fucking care?" My gruff voice echoed through the cell, as I sang to a song I had written awhile back. Before all the crime, and murder I wanted to be a musician. I wanted to tour the world, singing on stage in front of thousands of people, but I guess fate just didn't want that.

Harley and even some of Mr. J's goons had told me that I was an awesome singer, but I never knew if they were telling the truth or not. People tend to say appeasing things when they fear that you'll set them ablaze as they sleep.

"You have a...lovely voice." A familiar, smug tone broke me from my thoughts. I never even heard him come in, which was surprising given the obnoxiously loud noise the door made.

"Oh u-uh thanks?" For once in my life, I felt myself getting flustered, and his voice just sent chills up my spine.

Why does he have that effect?

Suddenly a full pack of cigarettes, Marlboro Blacks, was thrown on my lap, causing me to jump. I was not expecting that one.

"Oh my fuck. You are the best, Dr. Dreamy." My eyes lit up, and I scrambled to get the pack open. I placed the long white stick between my lips, already enjoying the smell of the tobacco.

My pale blue eyes flickered up to meet his, and I looked at him in anticipation.

The matches?!

"Seeing as you are not to be trusted with anything you could use to start a fire, I will be in charge of the lighter. Meaning you will come to me when you need a light." Going by the amused look in his eye, I could tell that he did this just to annoy me.

"Please. Please just light it for me." I stood up hastily, crossing the space that separated us.

With a pleased smirk, Dr. Crane pulled a black zippo lighter from his breast pocket and flipped it open. With steady hands he held the flame to the end of the cancer stick, lighting it up and letting the toxins fill my lungs.

A pleasured groan escaped my lips as I blew the smoke out, and away from Dr. Crane. He probably would not be too pleased if I blew smoke in his face.

"Oh gooood. Thank you, Sexy." I leant up and placed a well earned kiss on his cheek, causing him to go ridged.

He took a step back, clearly not comfortable with the physical contact.

Though the whole lighter possession thing was a bit degrading, I was still beyond thankful for the smokes.

"Now, time for you to hold up your end of the deal. You will be my new guinea pig for the time being." Darkness clouded his eyes, giving him an air of danger that made me quite uneasy.

"O-okay. What do I do?"

"Scream and cry."

Before I could understand what Dr. Crane meant, he lifted his wrist and sprayed some sort of gas in my face. I coughed, inhaling the substance and choking on the thick feeling of it in my lungs.

When I opened my eyes again, Dr. Crane stood before me, a sewn burlap sack covering his head. It made him resemble an evil scarecrow that you would see in a horror movie.

As I tried to calm down, my chest began to feel tight, and my breathing became ragged. An overwhelming feeling of fear and dread overcame my senses and My vision became distorted.

The Scarecrow's mask was crawling with maggots, and they were pouring out of his mouth as he spoke, his voice a low growl.

I couldn't hear what he was saying due to my ear piercing screams. I clawed at my hair, closing my eyes and crawling to the corner, away from the monster.

"Go away! Go away go away go away!" I screamed over and over. Suddenly I couldn't scream anymore, and I most certainly couldn't breath. It felt as if water had filled my lungs, and I was drowning on dry land.

My hands clawed desperately at my chest and throat, my body writhing on the ground in front of Dr. Crane.

I felt my life slipping from my grasp, leaving me with every passing second.

"Riot! Riot look at me!" The doctor's voice was muffled, sounding far away, but he was right in front of me, snapping his fingers to get my dead stare to focus on him.

My eyes found their way to his, and he began to lightly slap my cheeks, bringing me back into reality. My vision began to return to normal, and a loud gasp escaped me as my lungs filled back up with air.

"Riot! Can you hear me?" Dr. Crane was holding my head in place, forcing me to stare into his eyes. He was no longer wearing that horrid mask anymore, and his usually perfect brown hair was tousled. He was no longer wearing his glasses, making him look much younger.

"Get away from me! Go away! Monster!" I cried, my voice cracking as tears streamed down my face. I tried to push him away, but he held me still, keeping me pinned to the bed.

When did I get on the bed?

"Leave me alone! Just go away! Please don't kill me!" I pleaded, still trying to push the devil off of me.

"Riot you're hysterical, just calm down!" He loosened his grip, sitting back on his heels.

"Monster!" Though I intended for my voice to be stronger, it came out as a mere whimper.

Dr. Crane stood up, now towering over me once more. His cool hand touched my forehead, causing me to flinch away from his touch.

With what little energy was left in my tired body, I pushed hard on his abdomen, sending him stumbling back.

"Get out! Leave me alone!" My words were quickly becoming redundant, but I didn't care in my frantic state.

I saw a look of anger, wickedness, and something that resembled...hurt on his face before I turned and faced away from him.

My body curled into a ball, and I nearly hugged the cement wall.

A cold silence filled the air before suddenly my cell door was slammed shut, clearly from Dr. Crane storming out.

What did he do to me?

As I stared blankly at the wall, not even bothering to blink, I could only think of the vivid visions.

They kept replaying themselves in my mind, over and over again, leaving me a trembling ball of fear on my bed.

The hundreds of maggots, worming their way up my legs, devouring my skin, and infecting my body. The thick feeling of water in my lungs, and pouring out of my mouth as I tried to cough it up. Suffocation in the worst form.

That was not the Jonathan Crane I had met yesterday. The man who just left my cell was evil, cruel, and sadistic.

For the remainder of the night, Only one word left my lips, over and over.

'Scarecrow.'