Lover- It took an amazingly short time to think all of this up! It made me happy!

Thanks!

Lady Draculea - Gomen Nasai! Gomen Nasai! Im sorry! Im sorry! I knew I should have done my research before writing that particular chapter! I just think that a ticklish Bruce Wayne is so incredibly cute! Wow...I just called Bruce Wayne cute. He's gonna kill me now!

Kemowitch92 - Am I that obvious?! huddles in a corner and cries

dubbs german accent I vill do my best to find out vhy they were so out of character!

"Tonight there are two kinds of darkness in this city, Lieutenant. First, there's that darkness which is merely the absence of light. And then there's that darkness which is the physical presence- the very manifestation- of the ultimate, Satanic evil. That second and malignant form of darkness feeds upon and cloaks itself in the first and more ordinary kind of darkness, cleverly disguises itself. But it's out there! Therefore, I don't wish to have shadows close to me this night, if I can avoid it, for one never knows when an innocent patch of shade might be something more than it appears." -Darkfall by Dean Koontz

...It's Never Enough

It was going to be worse this time. Crane could feel it, no, sense it in the stranger's aura. This man had probably already killed a small handful of people; maybe even with the possibility of raping them as well, there was no telling. Especially with the raging rejects of Gotham. The crime was in fact, more so here than any other city in the world. It was outrageous. This man had probably been in such situations before, that he relied simply on brute strength to get what he wanted. If that was it, then Jonathon was done for. Scratch that, he knew he was. In the deep, most southern part of Jonathon's soul, he knew that this guy was not going to engage him in some ridiculous battle of wits. Like the batman.

Speaking of which, shouldn't the Dark Knight be here by now? It was high time for his ass to be saved, and he needed to be saved now. God, he sounded like some kind of crazed church fanatic.

The greasy-haired mugger approached him with a maniac grin, the killer smile, some liked to call it. Nothing like the Joker's cruel smile, but close enough so that it got his bones shaking. It was the kind one wore when about to slaughter a victim, or when a roadside bomber succeeded in killing dozens of soldiers. It wasn't natural. The sadistic side in people usually came out in Gotham city.

He was shoved to the ground by grimy hands, and began to panic when he realized that he probably wouldn't make it out of this alive. Or at least with his mind intact. And if he did, it would be a miracle.

Jonathon made a scramble to get away, his hands fumbling on the ground, but before he could so much as get an inch, he was jerked back by his left shoulder. The wound was still sore from those uneventful few weeks ago, and he yelped in pain as he was brought to his knees before the sadist.

"Well now." The man said, his voice thick and gruff. Just like his fat and bulky body. "We have one that hurts as pretty as he looks, eh?" At his words, Jonathon became terrified. The beginning of true fear shown through his wide, baby blue eyes, the tremors coming more violently now. In a minute, he was sure he was going to get cut to ribbons.

Jonathon's chin was grabbed roughly, and his face was forced upwards to look at the opposing man. His face was brought forward into a bruising kiss, and such was Jonathon's shock and anger, he bit the invading tongue. As blood from the other man filled his mouth, he knew he had pretty much just signed his death warrant.

"You lil' bitch!" The man yelled, jerking his face away from Jonathon. A sharp pain on the entire left side of his face suddenly flared up impossibly fast, and his head was snapped back. It took him a minute to realize that the mugger had slugged him right in the face. Oh well, it always came to this point. Where Crane simply took it.

Jonathon felt his hair being grabbed and his head was yanked upwards without forcing him to stand. It hurt like hell and he grit his teeth to prevent the man from getting the satisfaction of hearing him make another sound.

"Let's see how ya like this." The sentence was growled out ion that horrible, hoarse voice, and the sharp combat knife was brought to his right cheekbone. Jonathon hissed in pain as the blade dug into his skin, a little above his jaw-line and just below his eye. The sadist dragged the dagger along the upper part of Jonathon's face, cutting a semi-straight line across his nose and under his opposite left eye. The pain caused Jonathon to yelp and the man loosened his hold on his hair. The brunette fell forward on his hands and knees and the man said, smugly, "See? All ya hafta do is keep making those pretty sounds and it won't hurt as much." Blood began to pour out of the semi-deep wound and ran down Jonathon's face and over his lips. The taste of his own blood was horrible.

Meanwhile, Jonathon was becoming more and more scared, but not without good reason. The crows were back, their giant, black feathers fluttering every which way. They were perched on streetlights, mailboxes, and the tops of several buildings. Their orange beaks were opened and they were cawing. The seemingly mocking laughter carried until it was driving Crane crazy, and he began to scream and write on the ground, clutching his ears to block out the sound.

The man still standing above him sensed the change, and climbed atop of the psychiatrist's hips, straddling the man. He gripped the knife like an untrained monkey would and jabbed it under the man's shoulder blade.

Jonathon let out a blood-curdling scream as the crow's calls grew louder, and a brilliant pain flared up, covering his entire back. The man had dragged the knife in jagged, zigzagging lines across his back. The lines ran down to his lower back and began filling with blood almost immediately. The dark liquid seeped through his now torn and ragged shirt and pooled onto the ground under him. It was like he was slowly dying. Wait, he was.

He didn't even notice as the now laughing sadist was thrown off of him and hurled to the ground by a black and foreboding presence. The knife flew out of the man's hands and skid across the pavement until it stopped just next to Jonathon's face, the razor-sharp blade still covered in his own blood.

Startled, Jonathon grabbed it, and with a ton of willpower, yanked his body up into a standing position, his vision weaving in and out. The psychiatrist swayed on his feet almost like a drunken man in a stupor and unsteadily looked around to see where his attacker had gone off to.

He didn't have to wait long, however, for the man was suddenly hurled onto the ground behind him, and a looming figure stepped just inside the light of the street lamps.

Batman.

It was the Night Crusader. The Dark Knight. The Batman. The Bat. He had so many names, but to Crane at that instant, he was nothing more than fear itself. Crane raised his knife as if to attack, and the being vanished from his sight. The sadist that was behind him suddenly touched his shoulder softly from behind, and Jonathon screamed. The brunette whirled around and jabbed the knife right into the left, upper-corner of the man's breast.

Inside, Jonathon's heart was racing, and when he stepped back to get a better look, he realized exactly what he had just stabbed. The world seemed to freeze on the spot, and Jonathon suddenly stopped breathing.

The batman watched him, seemingly unhurt from the knife currently protruding from his chest and Jonathon as at a loss of what to say. He wore that same expressionless face he always did and frankly, Jonathon had no idea how he managed it. He had just stabbed him in the chest for crying out loud! The brunette stumbled back slowly, muttering his apology to himself more than anything, but he had no doubt that the Batman would hear him.

"I…I…didn't…" Jonathon could say no more, and he fell, leaving the darkness to claim his vision.

Just before he blacked, Jonathon could've sworn he saw the crows. They had taken flight from their perches, their feathers fluttering slowly down to earth. But there was something else amongst them. The cawing was turning into short, loud bursts of ultrasound, and finally Jonathon saw it. The crows were the ones that were terrified now.

They were being chased by bats.

Unable to stay conscious any longer, Jonathon closed his eyes and let the blackness take him, unaware of his surroundings for what had to be the second time in two days.

Lover - There's a grasshopper thing in my house! I can hear it! Well, tell me how I did!!