The door swings open, and Jane asks herself why.
It had been a dare, but she'd rather escape with her life then a sense of satisfaction and one-upping her fellow students.
Jane jumps as the floor creaks, and she tightens her grip on the flashlight.
Nothing to be afraid of, nothing to be afraid of...
The light beam hits an object in the corner, and something slams shut.
Get out!
The doorknob won't turn. Why won't it turn?
"Did you know that over seventy percent of murders begin with stalking?"
That's not her voice. Who's voice is that?
Janes' light flickers out.
"You see, Jane, I know that your mother left you when you were very young. I know that you have an older sister you've got quite the vendetta against. She's prettier, sweeter, and more fun than you'll ever be." He–it sounds like a he–lets out a cackle that sounds similar to nails on a chalkboard.
"Who–who are you?" Her lips finally manage to form words.
"So now you want to know my name? It's very rude to pry," His voice sounds closer... "Though to answer your question, I go by many names, aliases, blah blah blah, but you'll probably get to know me as–Scarecrow!"
The light comes on, and the last thing she sees is a white cloud advancing toward her.
Jane screams.
After a moment of clamping his hands over his ears, the lights cone on and Jonathan Crane rips off his mask to shove it in her mouth.
