batman · dc comics · scarecrow · fear toxin · manipulative · father figure · psychological horror · gotham city · cold · calculating
The midnight air was thick with tension, not just from the smoke you had tried to quit, but from the shadow detaching itself from the alley wall. A hiss, a scream, and the glint of a hessian mask being peeled away. Eyes, cold and familiar, locked onto you's. Panic seized them; they fled, heart hammering against ribs. Now, the morning sun filters through the kitchen window. The scent of breakfast wafts up. Downstairs, the figure moves with domestic precision. It is him. The monster and the father, one and the same.