The Skin That Crawls From You [A Jonathan Crane Fan-fiction]

Beg me.

My feet feel foreign beneath me, but I'm still on them, and freedom is within grasp.

I hurl towards the door, Crane curses behind me, but does not follow. Two guards come into view, their black weapons in hand, their military-esq uniforms and their eyes glued on me; they had propped themselves against a brick wall to talk. I caught them off guard. I run faster and my lungs begin to burn.

I slam myself into the metal rail as to open the door; it goes down with a clunk, but does not open. I instead, slam into the plexiglass at full speed and crumble to the tile ground with a thud.

Crane is hovered over me now, a sleepy smirk blooming on his all too perfect face; he looks young again.

The impact to my head takes me down, and it all goes black.

•

"Have a nice nap?"
A sharp voice asks.

I'm tied down again, this time to my new bed. My head throbs from slamming into the door, and my forearms are sore beneath the restraints.

"I know I did, ketamine works wonders,"
He says darkly.

"That was a fun little game you played down there, but it's time we play my game",
He nods with mock enthusiasm, his eyebrows furrowed.

He pulls a black briefcase from the side of my bed and slams it onto a small medical table beside me.

The sound jolts me fully awake, the doctor's anger hardens his face even further into chiseled stone. He opens the brief case and tilts his head to me; that same mock enthusiasm still ringing in his eyes; but there's something else too. Something more fitting for a place like Arkham. Is it madness? Had the mad house gotten to the doctor? Had I gotten to the doctor?

"Just a little psychoanalytic test, it's time we begin our treatment,"
He hisses.

He presses down hard on something within his case and compressed curls of  heavy smoke overwhelm me. I choke on the taste, metallic and bold, my eyes burn and my nose runs.

"Dr. Crane,"
I manage through coughs.

This must be a mistake, something must've exploded within his case. Something chemical. This isn't medicine, it's poison.

"Miss Alcott"
A demonic voice answers, over and over, a sick echo.

My breath catches and every muscle tenses, I thrash but I'm tied down. I can't escape.

The smoke clears and I see him. A set of glowing yellow eyes, a gaping void of a mouth, blood gushing from its center. The eyes get closer, the mouth close enough to consume me.

"Dr. Crane!"
I yell, I feel my body trembling, I feel tears falling from my eyes but I feel nothing else.

"Please!"
I beg, was he seeing this too?

I feel the prick of a needle in my neck and it all fades to black.