(Myca's Point of View)
Jon tells me that he needs my blood today. He has to extract at least a vial full of it. He has the tools to get it, but he said it'll be painful. He'll take a large needle and literally 'suck the blood out.' Honesty, I don't care about getting hurt or being in pain anymore. From the stories Jon told me, they were so tragic. How can so many terrible people turn such a sweet innocent little boy into a murderer? Its almost feels like a sin to do that to something or someone so fragile and people must pay for it.
I've been reading more and more of Jon's books. Some of them have to do with different ways to die. It fascinated me so much, the concept of death. I started becoming intrigued about the Guillotine in France. Did you know that the human head has enough blood to remain living for five seconds when its severed from the body? I did.
This must be the fascination to know more about a certain subject must've been what Jon felt about phobias and knowing everyone's worst fear. Jon already knows my worst fear, cockroaches.
Through my fascination with death, I wanted to make my own alter ego like Jon. He has scarecrow and he terrifies people. Jon's story moved me and touched my heart so much that I wanted to make people like Bo Griggs and Sherry Squires to pay dearly. I want to be rid of them all. Something in my mind just snapped, now I want to teach people a lesson through torture. I smile at the thought of people begging for mercy after days, maybe weeks of torture. I imagine some random man being ripped in half on The Rack or crushed by The Scavenger's Daughter or split down the middle by The Spanish Donkey.
I want my alter ego to have something that involves death more specifically, head cutting and medieval torture. I picked up a pencil and some paper. I began to draw my new alter ego, my second me, my other half. I drew a woman wearing black pants, black shirt with white skull on its front, black raincoat, black combat boots, and finally, a black executioner mask with yellow eyes. Her weapon was a battle ax and under her coat would be a horseman's pick. I call her 'The Executioner.' She was perfect in every way.
I hear Jon unlocking the door and stepping inside.
"Jon, I want to show you something. Come here." Jon walked into the room with a forced smile. I handed him the drawing and the side notes I wrote down. Her name, weapons, etc. His smile had completely vanished.
"Don't you like it?"
"It seems like you're trying to copy me in a way. What possessed you to make this?"
"I realized how unjust the world is. I want to punish the unjust, the cruel, the people who pick on the underdog. You're not the only one who was humiliated in high school by the popular kids."
"So thats what this is about. I knew I told you too much. Maybe letting you out of Arkham was a mistake." Jon said throwing the sketch on the bed and walking away. I started chasing after him.
"Our pasts are not so different."
"You want to know the differences? One, your parents still wanted you. Two, you didn't have to get beaten by your fanatically religious grandmother. Three, you never got picked on at school for being too skinny or pale or too smart. Did your parents try to have dozens of crows attack you on purpose? Did you try to kill your younger sibling because your mother loved him and not you?"
Jon had me backed into a corner. I felt so foolish. I pushed him off of me and ran out of the apartment, crying.
(Jonathan's Point of View)
I felt absolutely horrible for making Myca run out like that. She needed to hear it though. The thought of her wanting to kill people and seek revenge like I did was completely... insane.
'See, Jon. You two aren't so different. You two want the same thing. You two are both utterly mad,' the voice laughed.
"I don't want her to end up where I am. Alone, insane, and talking to an imaginary voice inside my head."
'Hey, I have feelings too. Go find her, moron! Before she does something stupid like kill herself.'
"She wouldn't kill herself." I tried to reassure myself.
'Who are you trying to convince, Jon? Have you seen her drawing? She's snapped and you made it happen, buddy. You framed her for the robbery, you told them to send her to Arkham. Its your fault she's so fucked up, all your fault.' I try hitting my head off the wall, slap myself in the face, anything to make the voice stop.
"Shut up! You don't know anything!"
'I'm inside your head. I know everything.'
"Just shut up until I find Myca," I said grabbing my coat and ran out the door.
I look all over the Narrows to find Myca. She could be anywhere in Gotham by now. I just pray that she's alright. I hoped she wasn't murdered or raped or anything. I remembered the Vlasca address from Myca's files.
I went on the metro to go to the middle class region of Gotham. I sit down in the front so I could get off faster. I noticed sniffling noises coming from the back. I see a girl with brown hair and her head buried in her hands. I go to sit next to her, hoping it was Myca. I reached my hand out to touch her shoulder.
"Don't touch me," she said before I reached her. It was Myca.
"Myca, I'm sorry for yelling at you, but you have to understand. Just because its too late for me, doesn't mean its too late for you. Don't be like me. You're perfect the way you are. Sweet and gentle hearted."
"My heart isn't gentle anymore. I hate people. I hate my parents for letting me rot in an asylum that I didn't even belong in. You know that they did favor my little brother more than me."
"Why?"
"They've always wanted a son and I had too many complications. When I was eleven, I was diagnosed with schizophrenia. I was never treated for it, thats why its not in any of my records. I saw things that I didn't know were real or not. I would scream in the middle of the night because I saw cockroaches crawling all over my walls, my windows, even my sheets and my skin. My parents got so sick of it. They treated me like a leper and my brother got the attention. The normal child. After five years of roach hell, the visions stopped, just like that. Then, when I went to Arkham, I had that nightmare and I was scared that the visions were starting to come back." I just held Myca's hand.
"Lets just go home."
