SwordStitcher-Can you blame him? Jonathan's clueless and they've gotten their one free pass for the year. And I know-the only nonfans I know are my grandparents and my mum.
Piezelle-Yes, she is my OC. And The Couch is a stereotypical punishment in relationships-one half of the couple is banished from the bed to sleep on the sofa. Usually the banished one is male, but not always.
Voodoo-Mutant-Child-Yay for fiction! And I didn't think of that one. Damn. Oh, well, maybe next year.
AN: The idea came to me while I was listening to a song called 'Awaken' by Disturbed, hence the title.
It isn't as though they can do anything else to him. The brief time he spent in custody saved him from being sent to prison. He is insane, after all. Hearing voices isn't normal. So the worst they can do is send him back to Arkham, and he can escape from there within a week. Idiots.
He rubs his hands together and surveys his handiwork. It isn't the best-this was all rather spur of the moment-but it will do. Who will be expecting him to have rigged Gotham's corn maze with traps? Nasty, deadly, scream-inducing traps. And he will be there, of course, disguised as a scarecrow. Oh, it'll be beautiful.
He hears the voices of the first group and stills, his thin hands wrapping around the cross he's standing on. It's time. He has been reborn. At long last, he has found his life's calling.
Here they come! Any minute now they'll break the delicate wire that will trigger the fear gas. And then the screams will begin, and they'll run by him.
Sure enough, a shrill scream splits the night and he tenses, prepared to spring. Any minute now they'll run past, panicking.
Ah, here they come now! He can hear them screaming-at least one person thinks there's bugs on them-and he grins behind his mask.
The first one to stumble through the corn is a young woman, maybe sixteen or seventeen. She catches sight of him hanging there and tries to turn around. Oh, that won't do at all.
He jumps from the cross and grabs her, forcing her to look at his face.
The shrill screams make his eardrums rattle. Perfect. This is all just perfect.
"Is there something on my face, sweetheart?"
She squeezes her eyes shut and pushes at him. He tightens his fingers on her shoulders and inches one hand up to her neck. It wouldn't take much for this one, just a little squeeze…
He is knocked to the ground by something heavy and black. What on…oh, come on! Can't this lunatic bother somebody else for the evening?
"Come on, Crane."
His mask is yanked off his head and he is dragged through the corn. Back to Arkham it is, then. Unless they hit one of his other trip wires.
He'll do better next year, he decides. He'll plan more. He'll spend all year building up to it.
He lets his head fall back and enjoys the last of the screams as they exit the maze.