Sunlight snuck through the small cracks in the blinds. Daria stretched herself across the bed, registering the lack of other. Since the bed was cold she assumed Jonathan had left earlier for work. Her assumption was answered by a note stuck on the doorframe. The placement of the note made Daria realise how, peculiarly, there were no doors for the bedroom, kitchen and living room: they were simply doorframes. The front door, basement and downstairs bathroom were the only doors in the house.
Of course, Jonathan had stereotypical doctor writing. Daria had seen it before when he had marked her essays.
'Good Morning. As you most likely guessed I have gone to work. Please do not touch anything in the basement but make yourself at home in the other rooms. There is a stack of books in the living room behind the sofa. I strongly recommend them all. Of course you may leave the house whenever you wish but just be aware that I have the only house key.'
Of course what did Daria do?
She made some toast, scrapped out the final tablespoon of blackberry jam she'd found in the barren cupboard, and then headed down into the basement. Due to the freedom of being alone, she wore fluffy socks and her large terracotta sweater she'd worn the night before. It occurred to her while walking down the stairs that having bare legs wouldn't be safe if there was a little hazardous laboratory downstairs.
And there was. Jonathan had a small chemistry set up in his basement. It was in the pantry that Daria had been led to previously when undergoing the drug trial.
The mess of books on the floor had become a chaotic grouping of stacked books and manuals. The most popular of which were psychopharmacology books and biochemistry books.
Daria couldn't help herself. Perhaps it was a mixture of her affection towards Jonathan and her fascination with the psychologically abnormal.
She sat herself on the chair in front of the lamp lit desk and began to read every piece of paper with the doctor's elegantly messy writing. She wanted to know what he thought of things, why he agreed or disagreed with things. The papers were endless.
There was no way Daria would finish reading the sea of notes down in the basement. She stopped after a while – unknowing of the time since she had nothing to tell the time with – and dared herself to walk into the pantry again to investigate, as best she could, what modifications Scarecrow had made to the toxin. The liquid still had its yellowish brown hue and there were two new vials of it. Either Jonathan had specifically planned his next doses or he lacked enough ingredients for larger batches.
"I'm going to guess it was a particular hormone accelerator... or inhibitor since last time I felt completely drained of adrenaline," She thought aloud. It was a broad idea but not a complete stab in the dark. She looked around for anything which would tell her the 'ingredients list'. This became a search through the pantry cupboards to find the new ingredients. Daria's thoughts began to reflect on the mysterious blue flower which held the potency to begin with. That blue flower alone made her want to go back to university to study botany. However, as far as Daria could see there were no flowers in the room.
Daria turned around to find Jonathan standing behind her. She assumed it was Jonathan as it was the Scarecrow: burlap sack and all.
"You never learn, do you Ms Morrison?"
Daria jumped back in surprise, knocking something. She heard a hiss. The sweet smell filled her nostrils. She tried to hold her break but it was too late.
Not again! Never again!
Another click sound was heard. Scarecrow's gas mask was activated. Daria had accidentally leaked the newest toxin adaptation into the room. he quickly moved towards her to seal the apparatus and pulled her away from it. His mask was starting to pulse. bugs were crawling in and around it.
It's not real. It's just drugs. Daria told herself as if that ever stopped someone's high.
"Oh Daria, I love fear. I promised I wouldn't do this to you again but now you've gone and done it yourself. Forgive me for my curiosity, it will only last a moment." He had reached for his notebook. His voice was distorted by the toxin. Each word was a growl.
Daria sunk to the floor.
He leaned towards her. "What do you see?"
And the cycle of violence continued.
When Jonathan had finished the amount of notes he'd wanted he immediately rushed for an inoculation that would stop the toxin's full affect. His newest brew was designed to be more fatal and Daria was to never take it.
Jonathan brought Daria up to the bedroom and dampened a towel to wipe the forming sweat from her face.
"I'm going to stay right next to you okay?"
"going to stay right next to me,"
"Yes Daria,"
"Yes,"
She repeated back everything he said with a soft exhausted voice.
Jonathan found himself being afraid of destroying Daria out of pure fascination and joy of the mind's power over the body.