The Two Evils.

He often battled with himself. In the real world he would never hear it, but in his solitude, the voice never stopped talking to him. It was his own voice but somehow different. Powerful and frightening, the voice commanded and ordered, and the doctor did as he was told. When he closed his eyes, he saw the mask, the hollowed eyes glaring at him. It made him smile to know that this was what he was, a combination of two beings.

At night when they were alone, they would converse. Dr. Jonathan Crane would speak aloud, and the Scarecrow would reply inside his head. They agreed on most things, except the issue of terminating the life of their test subjects. The doctor found it more amusing to watch their minds shatter, whilst Scarecrow would rather fulfil his bloodlust once the sufficient notes on the subjects had been made.

Scarecrow took a toll on Jonathan’s mind, though. He left no time for Jonathan to develop a personal life, let alone a love life. As far Scarecrow was concerned, Jonathan Crane was an asexual being who had no need for the unnecessary attachments of love or friendship. Jonathan, however, knew he was being starved. He was a man, after all, and it was not normal for red blooded males to have ignored their sexual desires for this long. At every opportunity he could, when Scarecrow was not predominant in his head, he would feel the tingles in his crotch, and the desires he had been deprived of.

Although he had control over most people, he had no control over Scarecrow whatsoever, and so he became frightened of what Scarecrow would do to him if he was caught red-handed. So far, the face and voice of the Scarecrow had been blocked out from his mind during the rare times of his self-pleasuring, replaced by provocative women moaning and posing in his mind.. But he was still scared that Scarecrow would know, and that he would punish him somehow.


It was mid-morning, and Dr. Crane had just finished in a meeting. He held his briefcase strategically in front of his crotch as he walked down the corridors of the asylum to his office. There had been a woman sat next to him who he had not been able to help but stare at. Her pencil skirt clinging to her hourglass hips, the tight business-casual shirt accentuating her bust, the luscious curls of deep red hair flowing delicately with the breeze of the air conditioning.. What man could resist? Even the mere remembrance made his cheeks blush a hot pink. He fumbled in his pocket for his keys, accidentally touching his cock through the fabric. He cringed and pulled his keys from the pocket, his hand shaking, jingling the keys as he struggled to get one to the keyhole.

He locked the door behind him and hurriedly tugged his suit jacket off, dropping it on the floor. He sat on his swivel chair, kicking his briefcase under his desk, and unbuckled his belt. As he unzipped over the bulge in his slacks, he got goose bumps from the anticipation. He sighed heavily and pushed the slacks down his legs, letting them slump over his shoes. His hand squeezed his cock over the cotton of his boxers, and he groaned a quiet “aah”.

”What do you think you’re doing?” boomed the dark voice in his head. Jonathan’s pupils became like pin-pricks and his eyes snapped wide open. He parted his lips and tried to speak. “I.. I..”
”It was to my understanding that we had things to do today.. But if you can take time out of your busy schedule, then I suppose I can, too. Are you going to let me join in?”

Jonathan didn’t understand. Both frightened and confused, he bravely spoke his thoughts. “You said.. You said you had no interest in this sort of thing.. You’ve never said anything befo-“
”No, but you’ve been smart enough to never bring it to my attention before. Go ahead. Touch yourself. What’s the worst that I could do?”

‘That’s exactly it,’ Jonathan thought, ‘what can he do?’

His eyes relaxed, and his attention was once again drawn to his stiff cock pulsing against his palm, still covered by the cotton. He was worried, but still rolled the boxers down to his thighs, the elastic bunching against his skin. “Aah,” he groaned, louder this time, as his cock was freed and was able to protrude upright without restriction. He leaned to the side to open the top drawer of his desk, pulling out a tube of hand lotion. Biting his bottom lip, he squeezed the milky clear lotion into his hand, and when he put the tube back into the drawer, he rubbed his palms together to warm it.

He let one hand take the shaft, and the other massage his balls. He rolled them gently, causing goose bumps and tingling jolts up his cock from the sensitivity. He stroked the warm lotion up the hard flesh, and then peeled back the foreskin, exposing the red-purple head. Susurrus “mm”s spilled involuntarily from his mouth as he pulled himself, savouring every little sensation.

”That’s right, doctor,” the voice barked, ”enjoy yourself..”

Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut and tried to shake the voice from his mind. He could feel that he was close to his climax, albeit a considerably short amount of time for orgasm to be approaching. He was pent up from weeks and weeks of being forced to ignore his desires, so his resistance had gone down. He flicked his wrist more quickly, his breathing becoming hasty as he drew nearer and nearer to his orgasm.

”I know you wish you were fucking that pretty redhead.. It’s too bad you’re stuck with me.”

“Y-yes,” he groaned loudly, “I.. Ah!”

Jonathan’s hips jerked up from the chair, causing his tight grip to pull the skin down further. He came furiously, his hot come shooting up his shirt; some hitting his chin and bottom lip. He pumped his cock gently, squeezing the last globules of semen from the head. His head fell back on the headrest of the chair, and his chest heaved. His eyes closed, and again, he saw the Scarecrow’s burlap mask.

”Time waster,” it said, calmly.