Diabolical | T. Drake ✔

[23] Deathly Silence

The medication spread in his body through the bloodstream and Jonathan closed his eyes, waiting for some sort of pain or terrible feeling to strike him. Tim was closely observing him, his pen at the ready to take notes.

It seemed as if the drug was working. He looked calm, if he had any disturbance going on mentally, that must have come to a stop.

Tim could take that as a sign of success. He wanted to create a toxin that would be able to bring the raging voices in his head to silence. But he was still not sure of what the prolonged effects of using an artificial way to manipulate his brain would have on him.

He had already read from his file that there was no way to have a correct psychological evaluation on him because he already knew how all the tests worked and could easily trick the tests into proving himself to be clinically sane or insane, depending on the circumstances. But his brain worked in a far different way than normal people so there was a high chance that the tranquilizer Tim had administered for him might not function exactly the way he expected it to work on an average person.

"Doctor Crane," he asked cautiously, keeping his voice low, "how do you feel?"

There was no response from him initially. It seemed as if he had drifted away into a completely different zone and did not want to return.

His eyes fluttered open, the very calm blue staring ahead of him. He didn't remember when was the last time he had felt that way.

Engulfed in silence, peace, tranquility. It was as if all the madness had come to rest or put to sleep by that drug injected into him.

"I feel... Normal," he breathed out but added after another long pause, "no... This can't be normal..."

"It's not," Tim was scribbling into his notebook, clearly writing down his response as well as his expressions. "It's a manifestation of the absence of unwanted thoughts, sounds, or in your case, voices. A temporary state of not having to hear everything that you usually do."

"So silent... Like the grave..."

He paused at that analogy, "the grave?"

"Don't you see, boy? Pure silence, only the sound of you and I talking, everything else shushed... Muted into nothingness. Non-existent. Not alive. Dead..."

Tim got slightly worried, just then noticing that the way he spoke currently was different from how Crane usually did with him. His voice did not hint at any upcoming aggression but that calm in his tone felt unnerving nevertheless.

"Doctor Crane, are you alright?"

"It's almost as if I'm dead... Buried under the silent Earth... Too silent, too still, too terrifying..."

Tim edged away from him, watching his calm blue eyes start to turn frantic again. His eyes had widened in alarm and it seemed as if tears of desperation were starting to well up within.

"Too silent that it's unbearable!"

Tim stumbled back but his hand had locked onto his ankle, dragging him down on the floor toward him. It seemed as if Crane was going through something painful and was trying to hold onto the only thing close to his reach which unfortunately happened to be Tim.

On the other hand, Tim realized what had gone wrong. For a man who had spent so long living with the voices in his head, when offered utter silence, he had felt relief at first for a fleeting moment. But then that very relief had morphed into torture as he was not accustomed to the silence.

That silence became louder than the voices he heard, making it unbearable for him to deal with it.

It was just as he had said; too terrifying for him to handle.

Tim knew he had to get him to calm down or else he would erupt and that could be dangerous for him as well as Crane himself. He needed to give him the other dose of tranquilizer he had brought with him in case things spiraled out of control. But Crane's grip was tight on his ankle and he was not letting him go.

"Doctor Crane, please, let me go and I can put a stop to this," he tried to persuade him, failing to pry his fingers that were latched tightly on his leg, "I can help you but you have to let me go first. Please..."

But it seemed as if Crane could either not hear him or intentionally shut his voice out. The terror in his eyes was transforming into anger and Tim knew he had made a terrible mistake in coming to the basement alone.

He could feel the man in front of him switching into the deadlier alter. He had read in his file that Scarecrow took over when Crane was feeling either angry or vulnerable. Right then he had been afraid of the silence and that had somehow triggered the switch.

In the past, Crane had used that Scarecrow mask to somehow monitor the switch and keep the Scarecrow in his control. But now there was no mask and no control, only Scarecrow.

"Doctor Crane, it's going to be alright. You have to stay here," Tim tried to keep Crane rooted but it was very clear that he had gotten late. "Listen to me, talk to me, don't let this consume you. Please."

Those terrified blue eyes snapped towards him, only they no longer seemed frightened. Instead, a crazed look raged within and Tim gulped, feeling alarmed for his own safety.

"You were right... This helps but not in the way I want it to," he remarked, his grip tightening further on Tim and the boy yelped, feeling that his delicate bones would snap under the pressure.

"Doc, you are hurting me, don't do that..."

But he was no longer talking to Doctor Crane.

The Scarecrow had taken over.

A spine-chilling cackle escaped the man as he let go of Tim, only to watch him scurry away as quickly as possible. He could feel the fear and panic grip the sixteen-year-old, making him crave that sense of power that came from watching a prey struggle in the predator's grip.

He had nowhere to run, he was trapped and the Scarecrow had the upper hand.

Tim seized his bag from the counter, desperate to find the dose of the other tranquilizer. He had barely managed to get the syringe filled when the ground gave way under his feet as he was dragged across the floor again. His head hit the side of the counter as he was dragged away, making everything spin for a brief instant.

"What do you fear, boy? What is it that you fear most?" The Scarecrow might not look as scary without the mask but seeing him take full control of Crane was terrifying in itself.

It was almost as if Tim didn't know the man in front of him, hadn't talked to him, or spent any time with him at all. Those blue eyes were vacant, crazed and his lips were turned up in a vicious smile. Mask or no mask, Scarecrow lived up to his name.

"You can't get rid of me, you know," that scratchy voice was also different from how Crane usually spoke, "he's a fool for believing you might be able to help him. You can't even help yourself... Look at you right now, so helpless... So pathetic... Just a boy meddling into things he should have stayed away from and haven't you heard, peach? Meddlers get punished."

For the first time ever, Tim was actually afraid. Not because of Scarecrow and not because of the current situation but he was afraid that he might have created a toxin that brought about all that mess. He surely didn't want to do that, he only wanted to help Crane get rid of the tormenting voices but it had backfired.

"I'm sorry, Doctor Crane," Tim hissed, plunging the needle into his neck, injecting the tranquilizer that he hoped would paralyze him for long enough for him to escape.

But he couldn't escape because that act angered Scarecrow even more and he slammed Tim into the wall behind him. The tranquilizer began to take effect in a while, making Scarecrow become unresponsive as he finally let go of Tim who was shaking, pain shooting up in every cell of his body.

Tim slid down to the floor, dark spots dancing in front of his eyes as it felt as if his whole body had been violently shaken. He held his head, trying to see whether Crane was back in charge of his body or not.

But the darkness began to increase, clouding his vision entirely and he realized that he no longer had his spectacles on either. It was getting impossible to see and slowly, everything blacked out into pitch darkness.

***