Enochlophobia

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Enochlophobia ~ Fear of Crowds

"Shit!" Darcy cursed at the blaring of sirens outside her apartment.

She quickly shoved things in a duffel bag and ran down the fire escape.

She pulled the hood of her jacket up and glanced behind her every so often.

I'm going to kill that stupid scarecrow. Darcy thought to herself

She stumbled over her feet and found herself across from a club. She glanced behind her before hurrying past the bouncer.

The music blared through the speaker, the colorful light lasers danced across peoples faces as they danced too close together. Darcy's chest tightened, she loathed crowds. Especially drunk ones.

Darcy hurried across the floor and to the bathrooms where she locked the door behind her and set her duffel bag on the counter.

She pulled out a pair of scissors and brought it to her hair but paused as the sound of deep breathing filled her ears. She spun to see Scarecrow standing in the corner.

"You," she hissed.

With a couple long strides he had her pinned against the wall.

She chuckled. "Are you going to kill me?"

He grasped her chin in his hand, stroked her soft skin and leaned forward. His icy blue eyes stared into her forest green ones. His full of mischief and want. For what, Darcy wasn't sure. Her eyes were worried and calculated.

A smile graced her ageless face and she leaned in so their noses were mere inches apart.

"Good move," she said. "I'll let you play out this little fantasy of yours....However, sooner or later it will be my turn to move my piece."

The door to the stall flew open and in waltzed a figure in a cloak of black, hidden by the shadows. Scarecrow backed up and disappeared while the figure and Darcy had a stare down.

"Mistress of Fear," the figure said in a deep voice. She sneered at him and then she held out her arms as if to praise him.

"The big, bad, bat," she grinned. "At last we meet. I was beginning to feel quite distressed that it took so long for us to finally be able to chit chat. Too bad it'll be cut short."

She pulled a knife from her pocket and lunged. Batman blocked her attack with a counter and she blocked his counter.

It went like this for a while. A dance with both partners trying to lead each step. Both experienced, confident and elegant with each move.

The dance only ended when Detective Gordon snuck up behind her and used his taser. She spasmed for a moment as bolts of electricity ran through her body and stayed upright before falling back to the ground, unconscious.

Gordon cuffed her. "We'll have her moved to the secure wing of Arkham," Gordon said. "I'm sure Dr. Crane can further analyze and diagnose her."

"Are you sure Dr. Crane is best fit for this?" Batman asked. He had his suspicions about the lanky doctor.

Gordon sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Crane's our only option. Let's get her to Arkham."

Philophobia [Dr. Jonathan Crane]Where stories live. Discover now