Arkham Chapter 4

[b]This chapter brought to you by The Doctor, controlling the doctor.

[center]Chapter 4:  Question Authority[/center][/b]

Running.  Sweating.  Panting.

And yet, he was going nowhere.

Bright lights, murderous grinning faces, and those horrible red noses.  The deranged funhouse he found himself in was full of these white-faced monsters.  And no matter how hard he ran, he never seemed to escape.  He wore a fur-lined jacket, an emblem on the back emblazoned with a certain Arctic bird, a ski mask hiding his face.

"Get away from me!  S-stay back!"

Haunting, distorted laughter answered him, and suddenly he was tripped to the ground by some unseen force.  The horrible, purple-clad figures began surrounding him, leaning over, grinning down at him.

"The irony of this amuses me."  A voice echoed around him, that horrifying voice.

"Make it stop!"  The thug yelled, backing up against a wall as the grinning figures came closer, throwing all sorts of deranged items at him.  Whoopie cushions, chattering teeth, water balloons.

"All this can go away, if you tell me what I need to know."

The man covered his face.  "A-anything!  I'll tell you anything you want!  Just make them go away!"

"Arkham City.  What is it about?"

"I-it's some sorta new prison, run by Hugo Strange!  That's all I know about it!"

"And what about the gangs?"

"I-it's the..."  He gulped.  "clown, and Penguin!  They got this massive turf war goin', over who's gonna own Arkham City!"

"And judging by your outfit, you've signed up for the Penguin's forces."

"Y-yeah.  Joker's dead meat.  He's sick with... somethin'.  I dunno, but he's dyin'.  It's pretty obvious who's on the winnin' side, and..."

"And?"

The man looked again at the white faces.  "I hate clowns!"

There was that laughter again.  "I know."  Suddenly, everything melted away.  The funhouse, the lights, the horrible clowns all disappeared, revealing once again the normal surroundings of a back alley, covered in snow.  The thug almost grinned in relief... and then looked down.  There was... some sort of yellow light, holding him up, pushing him against the wall of a building.  The light was coming from some strange ring, worn by...

"No!  No it can't be you!  Everyone said that Croc ate ya!"

"Perhaps he did."  The masked man replied.  "But I am here now, aren't I."

The thug shuddered, trying to press himself back against the wall.  "Oh man, oh man.  You're some sorta zombie or somethin'.  Takin' revenge on all your enemies.  That it?"

"It very well could be.  Now,"  The paid muscle was tossed across the alley, to the entrance, the yellow light releasing him.  The masked man was surrounded by the same light, and began to rise into the air.

"You've told me everything I need to know.  Scurry back to your employer, because I have a message for him."

He rose further, until he was high above the thug, silhouetted against the moonlight.

"The Scarecrow [i]lives![/i]"
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[i]"The Scarecrow may live, but does he have a life?"[/i]

Crane suppressed a groan.  The radio he had retrieved in the Solomon Wayne Courthouse had, in reality, been a mole within Edward Nigma's, also known as the Riddler, employ.  Which meant that the narcissist could and would contact Scarecrow at any time, simply to annoy him as revenge for taking a radio that had been meant for the Batman.

The Scarecrow and the Riddler had never been exactly friendly.  In the criminal underworld of Gotham, they could somewhat be seen as rivals.  Both had genius-level intellects, and were bent on unmasking the Batman.  This, of course, created tension between the two whenever they met.  Inevitably, they would end up bickering more with each other than concentrating on taking down the Batman.  But Scarecrow was not going to let that happen this time.

"Speak for yourself, Nigma.  Who's the one hanging gigantic green question marks all over Arkham City?"

And the Scarecrow had seen them.  They were hard to miss, really.  After all, they were large, and glowing a neon green.  Some had pressure plates, or buttons, or were hidden behind cages, but no matter where they were, they were always in sight.

[i]"They're part of a brilliant plot that would have ended in the Batman's ultimate destruction and embarrassment at [b]my[/b] hands, one that [b]you[/b] have put in jeopardy by stealing that radio!  Not that I expect your weaker mind to comprehend the complexity behind my schemes."[/i]

Crane rolled his eyes beneath his mask.  The Riddler's narcissism was a legitimate mental disorder, true, but that made it no less irritating to deal with.

"Why don't you go buy some more green paint.  I have some [i]real[/i] work to do, Riddler."

[i]"Oh, go scare some five year old with your tricks, Crane.  Actually...[/i]"  Scarecrow didn't like that tone.  [i]"Because you went through the trouble to steal my radio, I can assume that you want to keep tabs on the other, more mentally incompetent, gang leaders.  But you can't get their frequencies on your own, can you, Crane?  You're a chemist, not a hacker.  But I, I have moles in just about every criminal organization there is to be found in Gotham.  Therefore, [b]I[/b] could give you the necessary frequencies to keep tabs on your competition."[/i]

Scarecrow once again had to roll his eyes.  That the Riddler had to launch into such a lengthy explanation of an obvious conclusion was simply obnoxious, and he was all too aware Nigma had done it simply to annoy him.  Still, he was right.  While he had also picked up the radio to keep in contact with Azumi, he had also been trying to use it to pick up the other villains' frequencies.  It would be a major advantage to be able to keep track of their movements.  He had very little luck with their encoded transmissions so far, though as, like Riddler had said, Crane was no expert in this field.

"You're not going to give me these frequencies without a price, are you?"

[i]"[b]Very[/b] astute of you, Crane!"[/i]  Scarecrow ground his teeth about being talked to like some child who had just figured out two plus two for the first time.  [i]"If you want the frequencies, then you're going to have to play my game in the Batman's stead.  It'll at least amuse me more than having no challenge, and I do admit that, while not as genius as I, you are fairly more intelligent than most of the morons in this city.  Just solve a few puzzles and you'll have your reward."[/i]

"No deal, Riddler.  I'm not taking part in your foolish games.  I can get the frequencies myself.  After all, any of these foolish henchmen are willing to talk under the influence if my toxin.  Even yours.  Goodbye."

[i]"I will not-"[/i]

The Scarecrow turned off the radio, leaving him to fly over Arkham City in peace.  Overall, he knew he was correct in not accepting the Riddler's rather desperate offer.  After all, it would take longer to collect all of his ridiculous trophies than to simply 'interrogate' some of the various gang leaders' minions.  But... perhaps there was something [i]else[/i] he could do.  Something that, if not defeating, would certainly embarrass Nigma.  And he did have all the time that he needed.  He didn't know what Strange's "Protocol 10" was, but he doubted it would affect him much.  After all, he was assumed dead.

With all this in mind, the Scarecrow began to plot.
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It had taken nearly two hours of work.  Tracking down Riddler's henchmen, scaring them into near catatonia, allowing them to pour information out to him, and even investigating into the Broker's little business.  It had all been worth it, the Scarecrow felt.  Anything to get back at the Riddler for his incessant nattering.

Crane looked at his latest work, and allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.  This would definitely work. He retrieved his radio, and dialed it to Nigma's frequency.

"Oh Riddler, I think you should take a look at your hideouts.  I'm sure you're monitoring them somehow."

[i]"What?!  How did you-"[/i]  There was the sound of movement as the Riddler scuttled to his monitors, then a short pause.

[i]"What did you [b]do[/b]?!"[/i]

"I gave the Batman a... cheat sheet, if you will."

Painted on the building the Scarecrow was currently hovering in front of, and several others throughout Arkham City, in bright yellow spray paint, were the words "BATMAN: THE RIDDLER IS HERE", and then an arrow pointing down at an entrance point, usually behind some fake wall, to the hideouts that most likely contained some death traps, and possible a hostage or two.

Crane chuckled, and gave a small wave to where he assumed the hidden camera was in front of him.

[i]"That's... you...  Crane!  That's cheating!  [b]That's chea[/b]-"[/i]

Scarecrow once again clicked off the radio before Riddler could finish his rant, causing Nigma even further frustration.

All in all, not an unsatisfying waste of two hours.

[u]8 hours to Protocol 10[/u]

[b]Technically speaking, that's not against the rules. Hope you guys like this chapter. Please review.[/b]