The Dance of the Crane

Chapter 6
Uncertainty



Crane held it in. He held it in as he walked towards his hideout. He held it in as he ordered the goons to their duties. He held it in while he was feeding Craw and Nightmare, his two pet ravens, their birdseed he had stolen from the Gotham Petco.

But when he was finally in the comfort of his own bedroom, surrounded by his friends, the books of Psychology and Stephen King horror novels that he finally let it all out. He started to laugh, not his usual cackling laugh that sounded a lot like a crow, but his normal laugh, one he hadn’t used in a long time.

He couldn't believe his luck. His Becky had chosen him. Sure, she had chosen to be his research assistant, not his Mistress of Fear, but still, he would take what he could get. The fact of the matter was that she had wanted to help him with his research. No one ever wanted to pick him or work with him, or, at least, anyone normal. Even the rogues tend to avoid him with the exception of Harley and Tetch, and even then he wasn't allowed to interact much with them other than in group therapy or in the dining hall. But they were all annoying. Becky, though, Becky was different.

But as he was rejoicing in his newfound support for his work, a stray thought caused him to stop.

But wait...if I allow her to get closer, she will discover my hideout and my identity eventually. But if I don't get closer, I can't manipulate her to join me. But if I allow her closer… Crane debated with himself, before finally shaking his head.  What am I doing? Why am I so concerned with whether or not I will be exposed? It doesn’t matter. She will join me, whether she knows about me or not.

He thought about this for a bit more.But…it would be easier to have her come willingly to him than having to make her his Mistress by force. If he had to force her, that would attract the attention of the police or Batman. And he would rather not have that, not when he was so close.

Speaking of her, he noticed her suspicions of him. She seemed to know a lot more than she lets on, which slightly worries him. If she figured out his identity, then the whole endeavor was ruined. But then, Crane thought, picking up one of his psychology notebooks, looking over his work on the various forms of fear he recorded in people. If she does know my real identity, why hasn’t she called the police or Batman?

He smiled. Maybe he could risk letting a little of his past go, maybe put a few hints here or there.

“’Step into my parlor,’ said the spider to the fly,” he murmured, a growing smirk on his face.

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Becky stared at the phone, her hand poised to reach for it, but her arm wouldn’t move.

She didn’t know what to do. She knew what she should do. She should call the police or Batman so that they could take Crane back to Arkham.

But then why can’t I bring myself to do it? She thought, her hands shaking as her mind warred with herself.

She didn’t want to admit it, but she found herself intrigued by the tall rogue. He fascinated her, despite her fears telling her to run away and never look back.

Would it be so bad to be the Mistress of Fear? she thought to herself, suddenly uncertain of what she wanted.

She slapped her forehead. Of course it would be bad, Becky, she yelled at herself. You would be a criminal, a rogue. You’d be on the run, with no home to go back to.

But then again, she really didn’t feel like she belonged in such a society as Gotham City, where people just went about their day as if nothing would happen and nothing could hurt them.

She shook her head. There was no use worrying about a future that would probably never happen. Getting started on the homework that he gave her, she started on her assignment. This section was on the various fears a person had, something that Crane was delighted to teach. He had assigned a big project on this that he wanted due by the end of the first semester, which was coming up very soon.

It was on this topic that Becky pondered her professor. I wonder what kind of fear he has, Becky asked silently, scrolling through the Internet for topics on fear. She found several sites, but nothing was the exact reference she wanted. Still, she wrote some of them down. It was during this browsing session that she stumbled upon the Scarecrow’s file.

Hmm, this seems interesting, Becky thought, clicking on the link.

As the website loaded slowly on her desktop computer, she caught sight of the URL address.

“Www.Arkhamcare.com, “she muttered, writing that website down.

Reading through the Introductory entry for the website, she had to hold in a snort of derision.

Family friendly facility, my butt, she scoffed, knowing the truth of what Arkham really held.

Still, it doesn’t hurt to look around, Becky thought, clicking on some link to the rogues’ files.

The first to catch her eye was the Joker’s. That seemed to be a long article, but as Becky read, she almost gagged in response to some of the things that were listed as his crimes.

She clicked off before she could read the full extent of his file. Geez, this guy’s a maniac, she thought, having to take a small break from the computer to clear her mind of the mental images.

When she had regained her composure, she continued to search. The others were, thankfully, not as bad as the Joker’s.

She skimmed through some of the others. Though one article caught her eye.  This file was right before Crane’s, and she nearly skipped over it due to how small it was.

But it was the picture that caught her eye the most. The picture matched exactly to her memory of the new dean.

So I was right, she thought, grinning as she found her theory correct. She scrolled through the file.

Hmm, it seems like the only major crime he committed was the kidnapping of an Alice Pleasance, she said to herself, continuing to read through his file. She pursed her lips as she continued reading, worry growing in her gut the more she read. This is bad, Becky thought. If he’s working with Crane, they could team up, and Alice and I would never stand a chance.

But she still had one last file to read. Her hand trembling in trepidation, she quickly clicked on Crane’s file.

On it, she could see some basic information about him, such as his height (6’3’’), his weight (140 lbs.), his eye color (blue), and so on.

She took a pause at his age. 37.  Wow, and I thought he was way older, Becky thought. <i?I guess life’s not been kind to you, has it, Crane?</i>

But as she continued looking through it, she noticed some things. Some things she already knew about, such as his use of fear toxin, but there were some things she did not know, such as he was bullied in his youth.

That would explain why he found a certain kinship with me, she thought, a few of the missing pieces to her puzzle coming together. But despite this, there were still questions left unanswered.

But why would he be interested in me beyond that? There’s literally hundreds of girl who are bullied. Why go after me? What is so special about me that he would go out of his way to offer me a chance by his side, she asked herself, bewildered by his choice.

She yawned. Exiting out of the file, she flopped down onto her bed, exhausted and ready for what the next day would bring.