AN IMAGE FROM MY ARCHIVES.



RELEVANCE? NONE.

I FEEL LIKE TODAY WOULD BE A GOOD DAY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD.

INSTEAD, I'D LIKE TO GO OUT FOR MARGARITAS.

EMAIL ZOMBIECRANE@GMAIL.COM IF YOU ARE INTERESTED.

THE FOLLOWING IS THE CLOSEST TO A HOMOSEXUAL ACT THAN YOU WILL EVER SEE.

THE FIRST TO GO WAS THE PENIS. CASTRATION IS NOT AN ACT I HAVE PREVIOUSLY RESEARCHED, BUT IT WENT STARTLINGLY WELL. THE VICTIM WAS QUITE STRONG, BUT NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO ESCAPE HIS OWN MIND. DRIVEN MAD BY FEAR. AS MY KNIFE BROKE SKIN, I TRAILED IT ACROSS SLOWLY - AGONIZINGLY. HE SCREAMED, BUT NO ONE WAS THERE. NO ONE WAS AROUND FOR MILES. THEN, I ATE IT, SAVOURING EACH BITE. THE MAN HAD TEARS STREAMING DOWN HIS FACE.

"DON'T DO THIS. I HAVE A WIFE AND A KID," HE CRIED. WEAK LITTLE BLEEDER. AND I LAUGHED.

NEXT TO GO WERE THE ARMS. I RIPPED THEM FROM HIS BODY AND USED THEM AS A WRITING UTENSIL, BLOOD SPELLING OUT WORDS AND PHRASES THAT ARE UNTHINKABLE.

I NEEDED TO HURRY, HE WOULD BLEED OUT SOON AND I NEEDED TIME TO MAKE HIM SUFFER THE WAY I SUFFERED. THE WAY HIS FAMILY WOULD SUFFER. HE DIDN'T KNOW. HE NEVER SAW HIS DAUGHTER BOUND AND GAGGED IN THE BACK OF THE WHITE VAN. I PULLED HER OUT AND SMACKED HER TO THE GROUND. I SLIT HER THROAT AS THE MAN WAS FORCED TO WATCH, FOR I HAD SEWED HIS EYES OPEN. FOLLOWING THAT, HE DIED, IMAGES OF HER DISMEMBERED HEAD FLOODING HIS MIND.

LAST, BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST, HIS WIFE. I SPRAYED HER WITH THE FEAR TOXIN, WATCHING HER WRITHE AND SCREAM. ALONE.

I WAITED AS THE TOXIN TOOK HOLD OF HER MIND AND BODY, AND THEN SHE DIED.

PLEASE MAKE NOTE OF MY ALTERNATE JOURNAL, cynicalcrane.

BATMAN, YOU ARE SUCH A LITTLE PERVERT.






( MORE OBSCENITIES )

I DID NOT HAVE SEXUAL RELATIONS WITH THAT WOMAN!

I RATHER ENJOY THIS SHOW, "WIFE SWAP." PERHAPS MY TIME AWAY FROM THE OFFICE HAS HAD A NEGATIVE EFFECT ON MY HONEST SENSIBILITIES.

ASIDE FROM THAT, I'VE TAKEN A MUCH NEEDED VACATION FROM MY WORK. I'VE FOUND AN ALTERNATIVE FOOD SOURCE TO HUMAN BRAIN, SO THAT WILL PROVE USEFUL. I HAVE ALSO MANAGED TO GET BACK IN TOUCH WITH TWO OF MY PREVIOUS...PATIENTS. IT SHALL BE AN INTERESTING NIGHT.

GUESS WHO'S BACK

Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood: and how she would gather about her other little children, and make THEIR eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago: and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.

ETA: A smile makes you disappear.

DESTROY ME.

I see my final requests failed to be acknowledged. The claim that I left everything to one Mr. Harvey Dent is entirely false. I trust that Jeremiah Arkham will clean up the mess you made (and give Bruce my notes. He'll know what to do with them.)

ROCK-A-BYE, BATSY
IN THE CITY
WHEN THE WIND BLOWS
YOU'LL FALL TO YOUR KNEES
WHEN YOUR NECK BREAKS
YOU'LL FALL FAST ASLEEP
NEVER TO WAKE
FOREVER IN DREAMS

SO MUCH BLOOD POOLING AROUND HER HEAD. BRAIN EXPOSED. BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA. DOA. BLOOD. BRAINS. SHE SCREAMED FOR ME TO STOP. "DON'T DO IT" SHE SAID. WHY WOULD I LISTEN TO HER? THIS IS THE FATE EVERY FANGIRL MUST MEET. THE FEAR IN HER EYES. BLOOD. BRAINS. FEAR. TOXIN. SHE DIED ALONE.

THERE'S A REASON THEY CALL ME THE MASTER OF FEAR.

NOT JONATHAN. NOT CRANE. NOT LOVER OR BUDDY OR FRIEND.

SCARECROW.