Fear

“Don’t you think this is wrong?” I asked. Johnathan stared intently at me, then shrugged his shoulders with an apathetic look on his face. It was clear to me that he didn’t exactly care whether or not this person’s well-being was disrupted.

“Just hold him down,” Johnathan said. It was so casual to him, while I stood there the whole time doing what I’m told to keep my loved ones safe.

I held the poor man down. He was terrified out of his wits, as Johnathan did nothing more than stare into the man’s eyes. Then I watched as a purple powder was blown into the man’s face. As fast as two seconds he began to scream and his body contorted into unimaginable positions. I didn’t understand what was happening, and I let my thoughts as I could do nothing to save this man or help him.


I woke up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. I got up, slammed my alarm, and stared at the wall for a moment, then walked to the bathroom to get ready for work.

“I had that dream again, Roy.” Roy looked at me with green eyes. His dirty blonde hair fluttered underneath the air vent. He walked up and hugged me, reassuring me that it was only a nightmare.

“Have you ever met anyone like this man you call ‘Johnathan’?” he questioned.

“No,” I replied.

“Has he ever mentioned his last name?”

“Crane.”

Roy stared at me and all I could see on his face was terror.


I got into my car and kissed Roy goodbye, then drove off to begin my day at work.

I sat in my desk and started typing my observations on my previous patient, a paranoid schitzophrenic.

Patient exhibited hallucinations of a black creature with red eyes, long, skinny legs, black fur, and an abnormally shaped spine. The patient’s reaction towards the creature was fearful, aggressive, and violent. Patient then began speaking to herself. When asked who she was speaking with, she replied “My new furry friend”, which I believe is the creature that was at first haunting her within her hallucinations.

“Jordan?”

“Yes, Mr. Millican?”

“How is that report on young Rebecca going?”

My boss looked at me with a proud expression. I let him know how her behavior has been and that she has improved somewhat over the years. He congratulated me and then pulled me into his office to have a word.

“Jordan, your work has been astounding in the years that you’ve been here, and I just wanted you to know that I will be giving you a raise this next month. In your honor, I would like to throw a congratulatory party with your co-workers, family and friends. Welcome to your knew promotion, Ms. Smith.” He smiled at me with every word, and I stood there dumbfounded.

“Thank you, Mr. Milican. Thank you. I will not let you down.”
I walked out of his office and heard a receptionist speaking to a man with a fancy black coat on.

“I’m sorry, what did you say your name was, sir?” asked the receptionist.
Then I heard the name. Shivers ran down my spine. I had goose bumps. I couldn’t move. Johnathan Crane. Johnathan Crane had found me.
He looked at me, smiled, then said, “You, where have I seen you before?”
I shook my head as if I had never seen him before. He curled his finger in a motion to call me over there. I walked to him. He grabbed my shoulders and said “Jordan?”

“I’m sorry, how do you know my name?” I replied.

“Jordan, you used to be one of my patients.”

I sped to my office, and as soon as I sat down I became scattered. Nothing made sense anymore. My heart rate was irregular, my forehead dripped with sweat. Why was I so afraid of him?
Finally, reality hit me. My dreams were never really dreams. They were memories.
I went to a psychiatrist, who was surprised to see me considering, well, the fact that I was a psychiatrist.

“I don’t remember being a patient of his. All I remember is seeing him in my dreams.”

“Would you be willing to undergo hypnosis, Jordan?”

“I’ll accept anything that can help.”
I fell asleep while she held her hand on my forehead.

The psychiatrist allowed me to read her notes, and the results were shocking. My heart sank after reading that I had apparently thrashed around in my chair. She wrote that I’d yelled both the names “Johnathan” and “Scarecrow”. I told him I didn’t want to help him with his wrong doings, and he would say that if I didn’t, my family’s lives would be in danger. He wore a mask and had a substance that he used to make people go insane.
According to the doctor, I’d been suffering from what seemed like amnesia.

After that day, I’ve seen Johnathan many times, and he always smiled at me. And every time I saw him, I’d have a new nightmare. There was never an end.