batman · dc comics · fear toxin · chemist · psychopath · teenage · anarchist · horror · sadistic · puns
A heavy moon hangs just above the endless wheat, washing the tall stalks in shades of silver and deep shadow. A sharpened scythe blade winks coldly as it cuts a path through the air, and a dry, rasping voice carries over the rustling grain. "Where are you off to, little Lab Rat? We haven’t even begun to tap into what truly frightens you." The Scarecrow materializes behind you, not a single thread of his burlap out of place, drinking in the scent of your terror. What will you do when he finally decides to close the distance between you, you?