Experiment Scarecrow

Chapter 23

A low, muffled voice broke the longing silence; Brooke's head seeming to sway, while her slow returning vision wavered, revealing a figure hovering before her.

"Ah, welcome back, Ms. Brooke,' the familiar booming voice of Dr. Madden hissed with disdain.

Forcing herself to blink once more, she lifted her eyes to meet his own; the spectacles glinting lenses hiding his eyes.

"H-How do you kn-know my name?" she stuttered, words slurring with her head still spinning.

The psychiatrist smirked, lifting to reveal the phone in his hand. "This." 

Gasping, panic surged through her, trying to raise a hand to grasp at the phone, but her hands didn't move. Her eyes trailed back down to her hands, spotting the straps pinning her wrists to the arms of a wheel chair.

"Not that you can truly use it," he snickered, tossing it onto her lap before drawing away to near the silvery operation table behind him--the familiar slender figure of Scarecrow strapped down to its surface, ruby eyes flicking around the room in a panic behind his locks of dark hair. "So, what are you to him, that you were so willing to put yourself in danger for? Hm?"

Out of the corner of her eye, the faint figure of Scarecrow struggled against the restraints, shaking his head desperately--clanging against the metallic surface. 

"I-I don't know him... I was just curious..." she lied, soon gritting her teeth as she tugged at her own restraints. 

Nodding, Dr. Madden looked to Scarecrow, fingers trailing across the metallic tray beside him. "See, I would have believed that before, but... my Experiment said something so strange. When he woke up, he kept asking if 'Brooke' was safe." With a jarring scrape against the metal surface, he lifted a scalpel.

"So I assume you are either a friend... or perhaps his girlfriend of some form."

Brooke fell silent, anxiously chewing at her bottom lip, eyes fixated on the scalpel in his hand. 

Twirling it in between his fingertips, he shook his head. "Fatal, fatal mistake for him, truly..."

"I-I know what you've done to him!" she blurted, eyes narrowing at his words. "Yo-You've hurt him! And for what purpose? It is practically torture!"

Suddenly, Dr. Madden spun on his heel, advancing toward her causing her to shrink in the wheel chair. "Do you know  what his parents did to him? I saved  him... I gave  him a second chance," he hissed, leaning close to her face, voice quivering. "I walked past their home each day. His parents would beat him endlessly, and once they accidentally killed him, I took him. They didn't want him, and he was perfect..."

She pressed back into the wheel chair as far as she could, heart echoing in her ears with each beat. "Pe-Perfect for what...?"

A low chuckle escaped him, pulling his face away to straighten his figure. "The cure."  He began to wander back to Scarecrow, the white fabric of his coat gently flowing behind him. "I was able to bring him back, giving him a second chance at life. He still had his memories, which I found fascinating. And when I came to that realization-" Dr. Madden shook his head, reaching to brush a hand across Scarecrow's stitched cheek.

"He  was the first example of the cure. If I could reset each patient's brain, it would possibly eliminate the mental illness effecting them... but, the only obstacle was now he became immortal," he said quietly, retracting his hand as Scarecrow flinched from the interaction.

Still fighting the restraints, Brooke shook her head. "You can't cure every  mental illness! It's not possible!"

"What do you know? You are not a psychiatrist, or a neurologist! You. Don't. Know. And you don't SEE what I must observe EVERY DAY!" he turned to scream, the dim light giving an alien-like appearance to his glasses; heavy shadows casting across his face, eyes still hidden.