Teen Titans: Arcanum

Interlude: Fear to Tread

The alley was empty and filthy upon first appearances, as most alleys were—at least upon first appearances. In the filth-ridden, rat infested alleyway, there a man sat behind a dumpster. He was covered in rags and bandages, and a gas mask sat upon his face. This man was reading the Gotham City Newspaper, and the main headline was about the Joker's most recent breakout of Arkham Asylum.

"Children." The man scoffed, standing and tossing the newspaper into the alleyway. "There are much worse things to fear now." He had to move. There was no telling when He would track him down. The man knew that He would be distracted with the clown for the time being, but eventually He would start looking for him as well.

It had taken him some time, but the man discovered how He and his sidekicks kept finding him so quickly. After he had discovered the cause, he abandoned his research and his old haunts—reluctantly, of course. Years upon years of toil and work was not something you abandoned on a whim, after all.

But during this dark age, this short era of doubt and uncertainty, the man found something truly spectacular. Most would have thought it was an odd statue and would have just passed it by. In the past, he had done the very same, no better than the peons he had shared this rock with.

Now he knew better. That statue was everything. The statue was the key. The statue was his path to greatness. The statue would be his guide unto ascendance and salvation.

And so, the man left the alleyway...and walked towards the roiling waters of the ocean.

The man walked. He was in no great hurry after all. No one would recognize him, even with the gas mask upon his face. There were a great many homeless people in Gotham, and most of the average citizens kept gas masks in their houses now. He—and a few others in this city who used chemical weapons—had seen to that.

Two gentlemen wearing black coats stepped out of the alleyways to his right and left simultaneously, and he heard footsteps behind him. One of the men withdrew a switchblade and said, "There's a price for passing through here, buddy. Now pay up." His companion crossed his arms, and the man could guess that their third comrade was doing the same.

Ah, not gentlemen then. From what the man could see, they seemed to belong to Cobblepot's crowd, or at least had once belonged to it. A shame he no longer had his toxins and other gear. Perhaps they wouldn't have bothered to waste his time then. No matter, nothing worth doing was very easy after all.

"He said pay up buddy--!" The third criminal let out a gasp of surprise as their victim ducked and weaved behind him, withdrawing a blade as long as a man's forearm somewhere from within his ragged cloak. The man did not enjoy physical combat, but he admitted that it did have its uses, especially since he learned from watching Him fight.

The man plunged the blade between the third mobster's ribs, piercing his lungs and causing his blood to fill the air giving organs. The criminal fell instantly, gasping for air that he was quickly losing. The man with the switchblade stumbled back while the second man charged forward.

"YOU BAST--!" His cry was quickly cut off as the cloaked man swung the blade horizontally across the criminal's throat. Blood seeped out of the wound, and the second man fell dead. The first mobster dropped his switchblade and fell on his buttocks as the cloaked man approached him, blade wet with the blood of his comrades...and still thirsty for more.

"Please..." The last remaining mobster whimpered, body shivering from the sheer overwhelming terror that he felt. The cloaked man suddenly paused.

Then he began to chuckle. And his chuckles grew into a deep, bellowing laugh that would haunt the mobster for whatever time he had left.

"Ah yes...fear," The cloaked man began. "Oh, how I wish I had time to savor it..." The dark eyes of the mask stared into the mugger's own. "But I have a schedule to keep." He raised his blade. "So I'm afraid that I will have to cut this short."

There was a scream, then the sound of flesh and bone being severed from flesh and bone.

And then, silence.

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The cloaked man walked towards the old, abandoned hovel that lied on Gotham's roaring shores. It had been there for longer than anyone could ever remember, and yet almost no-one knew of its continued existence. The cloaked man opened the door, stepped beyond the threshold of this dark and dreary place, and then stared at the statue. No one could ever keep their gazes for too long on this thing, for those who observed it for longer than three minutes were driven mad. None could properly describe it either, for those who tried gained a painful headache, as if their brains were being crushed by the pressures of the deep ocean itself.

The cloaked man was different though. He could not explain it through the means of science, but the animal part of his brain knew he was special in some way. Almost as if he was chosen. As if the deity behind the creation of this small, dark hovel was preparing him for something.

And so, Jonathan Crane—also known as the Scarecrow—shrugged off his cloak and prostrated himself before the statue. "What is thy bidding, my master?"

And then his vision went dark, consumed by the ocean.

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Paindarknesssufferingdrowningohgodohgodwhywhywhywhwy—

WHYDIDYOULEAVEMEMOMMA—

THOU SHALT NOT COVET

Jonathan listened to the words, knowing that his ultimate master was trying to show him something. Something wonderful. Something grand. Something that he could use to strike down his enemies and ascend to godhood.

Then he saw it. A child in dark clothes accepting a blessing from his master! But the boy had not the will to use this power, for to him it was a violation of the greatest kind.

Crane did not blame the boy for seeing the gift that he had been given as evil. Most people would. Crane was not most people. He coveted the thing, even beyond all reason as whatever manner of creature was connected to the boy used the gem of R'lyeh to violate the pink haired girl's mind and use her wretched past against her.

He turned to the figure behind him and spoke. "Is this what you wanted me to see, my master?"

The figure smiled. Its mouth was full of razor-sharp teeth, not too dissimilar to a shark. It leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "MEALS COME FREE"

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Crane awoke sometime later. Had minutes passed, or hours. It mattered little to him. He had a purpose now. He had to go to Jump City.

To his destiny.