Phillip Selmon eyed the clock like a tiger eying his prey. In many ways, he was a tiger. He lived to kill, and while a tiger had the defense that it was killing for food, killing was part of Selmon's nature. Truth, his code made it impossible to kill anyone who didn't have it coming...But he was a monster. His hazel eyes were blank and souless as he eyed the clock. Time to suit up...
The Tengri Executioner eyed Gotham from the church, the rain falling down on his head. Finally, he jumped. Using his Mongolian glaive to help him slide down the building safely, his cape flew up like the wings of an angel...Or a devil. Finally, he landed. He stood on top of the nightclub. He could hear the voices of the thugs below. Murderers. Drug dealers. Rapists. Soul stealers. The enemies of the great God Tengri.
"I'm untouchable man! Hell, even Batman can't get me! All the courts, all the cops! Might as well give me a Murder Liscence!" slurred one of them.
A crashing sound was heard as something fell through the window above. The thugs inside the empty club pulled out their weapons, pointing it into the blackness. "You're a Bat wannabe aren't ya? Well, you busted the wrong man buddy!" A sighing sound was heard in the darkness.
"Do not scorn the weak cub...It may grow to a brutal tiger.", The Tengri Executioner whispered.
"Huh?"
"Tengri guide me!!"
The Tengri Executioner leaped from the darkness, spinning his glaive around and around. As one of the thugs fired at Selmon, the spinning, shield like effect of the glaive split the bullet. Another swing, and the would be assassin was dead, sliced like a leg of beef. Another thug swung an aluminum baseball bat at Selmon, who gracefully dodged it, impaling him on his glaive. As the third criminal reached for his pistol, Tengri Executioner swung his weapon up, slicing his arm off. The criminal sprawled on the floor.
"Look man...I'm sick, I need help! This aint normal, something's wrong with me! You gotta understand!"
The Jack-O-Lantern smile on Selmon's mask betrayed his true thoughts. "I do understand...All too well..." laughed Selmon, as he dug his glaive into the chest of his next victim. A single scream, and another victim was added to The Tengri Executioner's official hit list.
Meanwhile...
The meeting was not going well between Scarecrow and his dealers. In fact, that was an understatement. After an hour and a half of talking, the dealers trigger hands were beggining to twitch.
"Crane, you scammed us! You told us your drug was the trip of the century and you screwed us over like a 5$ whore!"
Jonathan Crane laughed as he sat in his chair. He picked up a capsule containing his toxin and examined it playfully. "Gotham tourists...I have to say, it is a shame that the rumors of my serum hadn't reached outside the city...But now that you know the serum's abilites, think about how it could devestate your enemies! How entire cities could bow before your awesome power..."
The main dealer pulled out his sidearm and pointed it at Crane. "New deal! You give me all the toxin you have or a splatter your creepy ass brains on the f*cking ground!"
The lights began to flicker on and off, between light and dark. The dealers turned around. "Crane, this better not be one of your damn tricks!"
Crane laughed, relishing the nervousness in his opponents voice. "It's not me...I promise you that."
The lights went out for a full 5 seconds as the sound of gunfire hammered in the silence. Two slicing sounds were heard following some whirring ones. The lights turned back on to reveal two dealers, their torsos split open. The three remaining ones turned around, sweating intensley. "Dude.."
The lights went out again as two more slicing noises were heard before the lights came back on. Now, The Tengri Executioner stood very visible over the head dealer, in front of a mass of dead bodies. The dealer cowered in fear, holding his hands up before finally being cut down. Scarecrow clapped.
"Impressive...But it'll take more than that to stop me..."
"I don't want to stop you...I want to help you."
Scarecrow turned his head. This hooded figure was certainly fearsome and a true disciple of his teachings. He could prove useful. "How so?"
"Here's the deal: We are both very alike in so many ways. You need subjects for your studies on fear, and I have the prowess to get you these subjects. I will go out and capture criminals for you to torture and study. In return, you teach me everything you know about fear and how to become the ultimate monster. This way, you'll be safe from the police and Batman, and you get new subjects every night. But you stay away from innocent civilians...I've been working on my own little fear toxin, and you touch one innocent, and you get the privilege of being my first test subject."
"An interesting proposal...You have yourself a deal. Your name, apprentice?"
"I am The Tengri Executioner. Learn it well..."
With that, Phillip disappeared into the shadows, leaving Scarecrow to think things over. As Phillip got home, he removed his mask, beggining to take of his costume. As he lay in bed, he grabbed his calendar to take a look at when school was going to start again. 3 days...Funny, Phillip often felt that he knew more from his nights as The Tengri Executioner than his students did in their 4 years in his class.
To be continued...
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