FDR
Spirit Archer
Sanctuary, Shine


Breathless


PG-13
Chapter Five

It was supposed to be longer but since I had lost my flash drive it turned out short.

Beta’d ?
Batman Begins © DC Comics and Warner Brothers
This story was made purely for enjoyment purposes and does not make a profit 'nor will it ever.


“Who’ll sing a psalm? I, said the Thrush, as she sat on a bush, I’ll sing a psalm,” you muttered as you stood sat on a trashcan, watching the people go by in the business area of Gotham. For some odd reason, your little area of the sidewalk was being avoided. Strange.

“Who’ll toll the bell? I, said the bull, because I can pull, I’ll toll the bell–“

“All the little birdies started crying when they heard the bell toll for poor, Cock, Robin,” a voice finished the last verse of the poem, spitting out the last few words. You stood silent, not daring to look back. Was it a bit odd that someone finished the verse for you? No one read nursery rhythms anymore; it was a thing of the past. No, no one wants to listen to one, especially when there’s television with Sesame Street on or violent video games or even those iPods that everyone wanted.

“What are you doing h-ere?” he emphasized his last word a bit too much.

“Waiting,” you replied in a clear voice as you watched a few Asian business men walk by.

“For what? A lover?” he laughed. His laugh went from high to a low sound and sounded so dark it made you shiver.

“For time,” you shifted on your trashcan, suddenly feeling highly uncomfortable.

“Ooo, good answer, good answer,” his clothes ruffled. Was he taking something out that was rather… dangerous? In the middle of this area? Or was he just moving around?

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“Tell me,” he started and took a deep breath, “what do you think of all these…,” a slight ruffling was heard, he was possibly extending his arms like you always did when you told a story, “people,” the last word sounded as if it held disgust.

“Half are scum,” you watched an old woman walk by, accompanied by a younger man, “and the other half, I’ve no clue why they’re still here. Maybe they’re like some of us and can’t find the way out of the city.”

“Almost there, almost there,” he replied, he sounded as if he was talking to a child, sort of, “do you know what I think? Hm? They’re all scum. See, do something they want and they’re fine. Do something they don’t want and they explode. It’s sort of like stomping on an ant hill and watching all the little red things run around in panic. Then again, it’s so much fun to do it!” his laugh was louder than before, you felt like shrinking, “did you know there’s a plan?”

“What plan?” you breathed in nervously.

“A plan to make the city run around like ants,” he chuckled, “some guy named Scarecrow is gonna turn the city upside down!” he laughed once more, making a few people jump back in fear.

“How… is he going to do that? That’s a bit nuts, isn’t it? The city already is upside down.”

“He’s going to scare them all.”

“Like by saying ‘boo’?”

“With some sort of gas or injection or whatever the hell it was,” he shrugged. You began to feel very nervous. Your mind started jumping here and there. Was it…? You couldn’t remember anything from a few nights before, only a really large bat and something to do with radishes.

“And how is he going to scare people?” you pushed.

“By putting whatever he has into the water,” you choked.

“He can’t do that, they have filters to get that junk out,” he tsked at you.

“There are always ways, so don’t think that way,” he cooed, “how would you like to-ah, help me?”

“W-What?” you felt that feeling again. The feeling that you were forgetting this moment in time.

“To go around the city and have a little fun-ah,” what sort of ‘fun-ah’? You didn’t ask.

“I’d rather not,” you jumped off your trash can.

“I bet you’d be really good at what I’m planning!” he laughed again. Why does he keep doing that?

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn,” you muttered, your mind going this way and that. You turned and ran once again but not before hearing his voice and laughter one more time.

“My offer still stands!” he cracked up again. You then turned your head, carefully avoiding a few people, back at him. The sight scared you.

A large scar on his face and tinted hair. His face looked worn down. He looked like he belonged in Arkham. Maybe he was. This only made you run faster until you found yourself, once again, running out of Gotham and towards a familiar road.


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