here-comes-the-sunday

[here-comes-the-sunday]

“Stay back!” Replies the voice of a clearly frightened young woman.

“Keep away from me!” The bush adds. “Keep your hands where I can see them and step back!”

Grey blue eyes peek out from among the leaves.

Sunday lands roughly. She’s not sure where exactly she is. But it’s forested. And she gets the feeling she isn’t in Kansas anymore.

She more carefully secured her scarf around her.

“Okay… I just need to find people… I can do that… maybe I’ll climb a tree…” she mutters to herself.

@here-comes-the-sunday

Logan was riding his bike away from the Institute. Summers had been getting on his nerves and he needed to get away for a bit. He smelled someone��unusual near the road however and stopped his bike to get a better sniff.

[here-comes-the-sunday]

Sunday moves to start climbing when she hears a bike pull over. And so instead. She panics. Hiding in the bushes.

Sunday lands roughly. She’s not sure where exactly she is. But it’s forested. And she gets the feeling she isn’t in Kansas anymore.

She more carefully secured her scarf around her.

“Okay… I just need to find people… I can do that… maybe I’ll climb a tree…” she mutters to herself.

@here-comes-the-sunday

Logan was riding his bike away from the Institute. Summers had been getting on his nerves and he needed to get away for a bit. He smelled someone…unusual near the road however and stopped his bike to get a better sniff.

[here-comes-the-sunday]

Sunday blinks rapidly. “Alright…” she smiles awkwardly.

“Uh if it’s all the same to you gentlemen. I’d like to go home now.”

@nothing-to-fear-but-fear-itself

Johnathan had been fired from teaching at Gotham University for rumors of his criminal activity, and he didn't appreciate that. He decided to check the online chat boards his students used and found that most of them were complaining about their new professor, his rival and an overall terrible psychiatrist. One comment had stood out the most, a comment about the new professor's behavior towards his favorite student, a comment alluding to inappropriate behavior of some kind. He had to take action against that, it simply wouldn't do.

After a weeks worth of preparation, he flooded the university with fear toxin, each building had a sudden mass panic and no way out of them. He makes his way through the panicking crowds towards his old classroom, the strongest concentration of the fear inducing gas hovering near the ground and pouring out of the vents, the eerie green color making it look almost like a videogame scene

Sunday had finished her work and was quietly reading when a few people started coughing.

She looked up as the girl in the chair next to ehr started to tremble.

“Hey, Sylvia are you-“ she reaches towards her.

The girl lets out a guttural scream.

Sunday falls out of her chair.

There’s a wave of shrieking and Sunday covers her ears. Noticing the green fog.

She rushes over to the fire alarm and pulls it. Hoping the water from the sprinklers might douse whatever this stuff is.

She covers her mouth. Ears ringing as people rush for the doors.

“Windows!” She shouts but nobody hears her.

She gets into the fetal position on the ground covering her head with her arms as people flood to the exit stumbling over her.

It takes a moment for her to realize she’s finally alone in the room. Well maybe alone isn’t the right word.

There’s a person standing in the room. A burlap sack over his head.

Her eyes widen. And she watches him carefully. Shaking a bit from the shock of people trampling her. But mostly staring at the man with curiosity.

“Who are you?” She asks.

[here-comes-the-sunday]

“Are you okay?” Sunday asks again. Standing to look the man over.

“Pills are better than nothing. Even if the therapists are terrible.” She points out.

“I’m so sorry… Batman I assume? I’m Sunday. I didn’t see you at all!” She offers him a hand to shake.

@nothing-to-fear-but-fear-itself

Johnathan had been fired from teaching at Gotham University for rumors of his criminal activity, and he didn't appreciate that. He decided to check the online chat boards his students used and found that most of them were complaining about their new professor, his rival and an overall terrible psychiatrist. One comment had stood out the most, a comment about the new professor's behavior towards his favorite student, a comment alluding to inappropriate behavior of some kind. He had to take action against that, it simply wouldn't do.

After a weeks worth of preparation, he flooded the university with fear toxin, each building had a sudden mass panic and no way out of them. He makes his way through the panicking crowds towards his old classroom, the strongest concentration of the fear inducing gas hovering near the ground and pouring out of the vents, the eerie green color making it look almost like a videogame scene

Sunday had finished her work and was quietly reading when a few people started coughing.

She looked up as the girl in the chair next to ehr started to tremble.

“Hey, Sylvia are you-“ she reaches towards her.

The girl lets out a guttural scream.

Sunday falls out of her chair.

There’s a wave of shrieking and Sunday covers her ears. Noticing the green fog.

She rushes over to the fire alarm and pulls it. Hoping the water from the sprinklers might douse whatever this stuff is.

She covers her mouth. Ears ringing as people rush for the doors.

“Windows!” She shouts but nobody hears her.

She gets into the fetal position on the ground covering her head with her arms as people flood to the exit stumbling over her.

It takes a moment for her to realize she’s finally alone in the room. Well maybe alone isn’t the right word.

There’s a person standing in the room. A burlap sack over his head.

Her eyes widen. And she watches him carefully. Shaking a bit from the shock of people trampling her. But mostly staring at the man with curiosity.

“Who are you?” She asks.

[here-comes-the-sunday]

She starts the engine and switches gears starting to back up before she looks in the rear view mirror.

Thud.

She slams on the breaks.

“Oh dear!” She turns off the engine. And exits the vehicle.

“Sir? Are you okay?” She asks, panicking clearly in her tone.

“John!” She calls into the building. Before crouching next to the man.

@nothing-to-fear-but-fear-itself

Johnathan had been fired from teaching at Gotham University for rumors of his criminal activity, and he didn't appreciate that. He decided to check the online chat boards his students used and found that most of them were complaining about their new professor, his rival and an overall terrible psychiatrist. One comment had stood out the most, a comment about the new professor's behavior towards his favorite student, a comment alluding to inappropriate behavior of some kind. He had to take action against that, it simply wouldn't do.

After a weeks worth of preparation, he flooded the university with fear toxin, each building had a sudden mass panic and no way out of them. He makes his way through the panicking crowds towards his old classroom, the strongest concentration of the fear inducing gas hovering near the ground and pouring out of the vents, the eerie green color making it look almost like a videogame scene

Sunday had finished her work and was quietly reading when a few people started coughing.

She looked up as the girl in the chair next to ehr started to tremble.

“Hey, Sylvia are you-“ she reaches towards her.

The girl lets out a guttural scream.

Sunday falls out of her chair.

There’s a wave of shrieking and Sunday covers her ears. Noticing the green fog.

She rushes over to the fire alarm and pulls it. Hoping the water from the sprinklers might douse whatever this stuff is.

She covers her mouth. Ears ringing as people rush for the doors.

“Windows!” She shouts but nobody hears her.

She gets into the fetal position on the ground covering her head with her arms as people flood to the exit stumbling over her.

It takes a moment for her to realize she’s finally alone in the room. Well maybe alone isn’t the right word.

There’s a person standing in the room. A burlap sack over his head.

Her eyes widen. And she watches him carefully. Shaking a bit from the shock of people trampling her. But mostly staring at the man with curiosity.

“Who are you?” She asks.

[here-comes-the-sunday]

“Well who’s in charge of hiring! They should hire from metropolis.” She frowns, her hand on his lower back.

She felt bad for what she had to do.

“When I get my doctorate. I’m going to try and help. I mean that John.” She grabs the keys from his pocket with a quick movement. And presses a kiss to his forehead before rolling out from under him and rushing out the door.

She fumbles for the right key knowing her time is limited and eventually gets into the car locking herself inside.

Her hands are shaking as she puts the key in the ignition.

@nothing-to-fear-but-fear-itself

Johnathan had been fired from teaching at Gotham University for rumors of his criminal activity, and he didn't appreciate that. He decided to check the online chat boards his students used and found that most of them were complaining about their new professor, his rival and an overall terrible psychiatrist. One comment had stood out the most, a comment about the new professor's behavior towards his favorite student, a comment alluding to inappropriate behavior of some kind. He had to take action against that, it simply wouldn't do.

After a weeks worth of preparation, he flooded the university with fear toxin, each building had a sudden mass panic and no way out of them. He makes his way through the panicking crowds towards his old classroom, the strongest concentration of the fear inducing gas hovering near the ground and pouring out of the vents, the eerie green color making it look almost like a videogame scene

Sunday had finished her work and was quietly reading when a few people started coughing.

She looked up as the girl in the chair next to ehr started to tremble.

“Hey, Sylvia are you-“ she reaches towards her.

The girl lets out a guttural scream.

Sunday falls out of her chair.

There’s a wave of shrieking and Sunday covers her ears. Noticing the green fog.

She rushes over to the fire alarm and pulls it. Hoping the water from the sprinklers might douse whatever this stuff is.

She covers her mouth. Ears ringing as people rush for the doors.

“Windows!” She shouts but nobody hears her.

She gets into the fetal position on the ground covering her head with her arms as people flood to the exit stumbling over her.

It takes a moment for her to realize she’s finally alone in the room. Well maybe alone isn’t the right word.

There’s a person standing in the room. A burlap sack over his head.

Her eyes widen. And she watches him carefully. Shaking a bit from the shock of people trampling her. But mostly staring at the man with curiosity.

“Who are you?” She asks.

[here-comes-the-sunday]

“Have you considered talking to someone about…” she gestures vaguely. “All of this?” She asks.

She nods. “Because of that. I left, and I refuse to become him. My father. I- I have his temper. I just fight it. My sisters don’t.”

@nothing-to-fear-but-fear-itself

Johnathan had been fired from teaching at Gotham University for rumors of his criminal activity, and he didn't appreciate that. He decided to check the online chat boards his students used and found that most of them were complaining about their new professor, his rival and an overall terrible psychiatrist. One comment had stood out the most, a comment about the new professor's behavior towards his favorite student, a comment alluding to inappropriate behavior of some kind. He had to take action against that, it simply wouldn't do.

After a weeks worth of preparation, he flooded the university with fear toxin, each building had a sudden mass panic and no way out of them. He makes his way through the panicking crowds towards his old classroom, the strongest concentration of the fear inducing gas hovering near the ground and pouring out of the vents, the eerie green color making it look almost like a videogame scene

Sunday had finished her work and was quietly reading when a few people started coughing.

She looked up as the girl in the chair next to ehr started to tremble.

“Hey, Sylvia are you-“ she reaches towards her.

The girl lets out a guttural scream.

Sunday falls out of her chair.

There’s a wave of shrieking and Sunday covers her ears. Noticing the green fog.

She rushes over to the fire alarm and pulls it. Hoping the water from the sprinklers might douse whatever this stuff is.

She covers her mouth. Ears ringing as people rush for the doors.

“Windows!” She shouts but nobody hears her.

She gets into the fetal position on the ground covering her head with her arms as people flood to the exit stumbling over her.

It takes a moment for her to realize she’s finally alone in the room. Well maybe alone isn’t the right word.

There’s a person standing in the room. A burlap sack over his head.

Her eyes widen. And she watches him carefully. Shaking a bit from the shock of people trampling her. But mostly staring at the man with curiosity.

“Who are you?” She asks.

[here-comes-the-sunday]

She smiles. Stroking his hair.

“Well if you have any recommendations a im all ears.��� She replies.

“The last boyfriend I had my father ended up killing because he and I were planning to escape town. He was sweet. But he couldn’t protect me. He couldn’t even protect himself.” She sighs.

@nothing-to-fear-but-fear-itself

Johnathan had been fired from teaching at Gotham University for rumors of his criminal activity, and he didn't appreciate that. He decided to check the online chat boards his students used and found that most of them were complaining about their new professor, his rival and an overall terrible psychiatrist. One comment had stood out the most, a comment about the new professor's behavior towards his favorite student, a comment alluding to inappropriate behavior of some kind. He had to take action against that, it simply wouldn't do.

After a weeks worth of preparation, he flooded the university with fear toxin, each building had a sudden mass panic and no way out of them. He makes his way through the panicking crowds towards his old classroom, the strongest concentration of the fear inducing gas hovering near the ground and pouring out of the vents, the eerie green color making it look almost like a videogame scene

Sunday had finished her work and was quietly reading when a few people started coughing.

She looked up as the girl in the chair next to ehr started to tremble.

“Hey, Sylvia are you-“ she reaches towards her.

The girl lets out a guttural scream.

Sunday falls out of her chair.

There’s a wave of shrieking and Sunday covers her ears. Noticing the green fog.

She rushes over to the fire alarm and pulls it. Hoping the water from the sprinklers might douse whatever this stuff is.

She covers her mouth. Ears ringing as people rush for the doors.

“Windows!” She shouts but nobody hears her.

She gets into the fetal position on the ground covering her head with her arms as people flood to the exit stumbling over her.

It takes a moment for her to realize she’s finally alone in the room. Well maybe alone isn’t the right word.

There’s a person standing in the room. A burlap sack over his head.

Her eyes widen. And she watches him carefully. Shaking a bit from the shock of people trampling her. But mostly staring at the man with curiosity.

“Who are you?” She asks.

[here-comes-the-sunday]

“This is safer for if I need to run again. My father keeps sending men. They’re incompetent thankfully.” She smiles thinly.

“I’ve been a bit distracted… keep seeing things. It just my anxiety I know.” She melts underneath him starting to Forget why she did this.

“John are you single?” She asks as she comes to herself. Her hand resting on the small of his back.

@nothing-to-fear-but-fear-itself

Johnathan had been fired from teaching at Gotham University for rumors of his criminal activity, and he didn't appreciate that. He decided to check the online chat boards his students used and found that most of them were complaining about their new professor, his rival and an overall terrible psychiatrist. One comment had stood out the most, a comment about the new professor's behavior towards his favorite student, a comment alluding to inappropriate behavior of some kind. He had to take action against that, it simply wouldn't do.

After a weeks worth of preparation, he flooded the university with fear toxin, each building had a sudden mass panic and no way out of them. He makes his way through the panicking crowds towards his old classroom, the strongest concentration of the fear inducing gas hovering near the ground and pouring out of the vents, the eerie green color making it look almost like a videogame scene

Sunday had finished her work and was quietly reading when a few people started coughing.

She looked up as the girl in the chair next to ehr started to tremble.

“Hey, Sylvia are you-“ she reaches towards her.

The girl lets out a guttural scream.

Sunday falls out of her chair.

There’s a wave of shrieking and Sunday covers her ears. Noticing the green fog.

She rushes over to the fire alarm and pulls it. Hoping the water from the sprinklers might douse whatever this stuff is.

She covers her mouth. Ears ringing as people rush for the doors.

“Windows!” She shouts but nobody hears her.

She gets into the fetal position on the ground covering her head with her arms as people flood to the exit stumbling over her.

It takes a moment for her to realize she’s finally alone in the room. Well maybe alone isn’t the right word.

There’s a person standing in the room. A burlap sack over his head.

Her eyes widen. And she watches him carefully. Shaking a bit from the shock of people trampling her. But mostly staring at the man with curiosity.

“Who are you?” She asks.

[here-comes-the-sunday]

She shakes her head. “Just hold me for a while. That should help.”

“Sometimes I ask the other workers at my fair to hold me. It makes me feel better. I’d never been held before in a way that didn’t hurt.” She pulls him oh top of her.

@nothing-to-fear-but-fear-itself

Johnathan had been fired from teaching at Gotham University for rumors of his criminal activity, and he didn't appreciate that. He decided to check the online chat boards his students used and found that most of them were complaining about their new professor, his rival and an overall terrible psychiatrist. One comment had stood out the most, a comment about the new professor's behavior towards his favorite student, a comment alluding to inappropriate behavior of some kind. He had to take action against that, it simply wouldn't do.

After a weeks worth of preparation, he flooded the university with fear toxin, each building had a sudden mass panic and no way out of them. He makes his way through the panicking crowds towards his old classroom, the strongest concentration of the fear inducing gas hovering near the ground and pouring out of the vents, the eerie green color making it look almost like a videogame scene

Sunday had finished her work and was quietly reading when a few people started coughing.

She looked up as the girl in the chair next to ehr started to tremble.

“Hey, Sylvia are you-“ she reaches towards her.

The girl lets out a guttural scream.

Sunday falls out of her chair.

There’s a wave of shrieking and Sunday covers her ears. Noticing the green fog.

She rushes over to the fire alarm and pulls it. Hoping the water from the sprinklers might douse whatever this stuff is.

She covers her mouth. Ears ringing as people rush for the doors.

“Windows!” She shouts but nobody hears her.

She gets into the fetal position on the ground covering her head with her arms as people flood to the exit stumbling over her.

It takes a moment for her to realize she’s finally alone in the room. Well maybe alone isn’t the right word.

There’s a person standing in the room. A burlap sack over his head.

Her eyes widen. And she watches him carefully. Shaking a bit from the shock of people trampling her. But mostly staring at the man with curiosity.

“Who are you?” She asks.

[here-comes-the-sunday]

“You know the ren faire in town. I live and work there. And since it travels there’s not a lot of insurance. But the pay is really good.” She replies.

“Okay so you aren’t going to answer my question. Fine… you know what I’m not hungry anymore.” She replies heading to his room.

When he arrives she’s crying. It seems the shock must have worn off.

@nothing-to-fear-but-fear-itself

Johnathan had been fired from teaching at Gotham University for rumors of his criminal activity, and he didn't appreciate that. He decided to check the online chat boards his students used and found that most of them were complaining about their new professor, his rival and an overall terrible psychiatrist. One comment had stood out the most, a comment about the new professor's behavior towards his favorite student, a comment alluding to inappropriate behavior of some kind. He had to take action against that, it simply wouldn't do.

After a weeks worth of preparation, he flooded the university with fear toxin, each building had a sudden mass panic and no way out of them. He makes his way through the panicking crowds towards his old classroom, the strongest concentration of the fear inducing gas hovering near the ground and pouring out of the vents, the eerie green color making it look almost like a videogame scene

Sunday had finished her work and was quietly reading when a few people started coughing.

She looked up as the girl in the chair next to ehr started to tremble.

“Hey, Sylvia are you-“ she reaches towards her.

The girl lets out a guttural scream.

Sunday falls out of her chair.

There’s a wave of shrieking and Sunday covers her ears. Noticing the green fog.

She rushes over to the fire alarm and pulls it. Hoping the water from the sprinklers might douse whatever this stuff is.

She covers her mouth. Ears ringing as people rush for the doors.

“Windows!” She shouts but nobody hears her.

She gets into the fetal position on the ground covering her head with her arms as people flood to the exit stumbling over her.

It takes a moment for her to realize she’s finally alone in the room. Well maybe alone isn’t the right word.

There’s a person standing in the room. A burlap sack over his head.

Her eyes widen. And she watches him carefully. Shaking a bit from the shock of people trampling her. But mostly staring at the man with curiosity.

“Who are you?” She asks.

[here-comes-the-sunday]

She blushes again. “Can I call you John?” She asks.

“John I’m flattered but I have a shift tonight and if I miss it my pay gets docked. This can’t become a regular thing.” She washes her hands. “Not if it gets in the way of my work and my studies.”

She takes a deep breath. “But more importantly. Not until you’re truthful about why you really want me here…” she’s blushing again.

“I may be young. But I’m not stupid.”

@nothing-to-fear-but-fear-itself

Johnathan had been fired from teaching at Gotham University for rumors of his criminal activity, and he didn't appreciate that. He decided to check the online chat boards his students used and found that most of them were complaining about their new professor, his rival and an overall terrible psychiatrist. One comment had stood out the most, a comment about the new professor's behavior towards his favorite student, a comment alluding to inappropriate behavior of some kind. He had to take action against that, it simply wouldn't do.

After a weeks worth of preparation, he flooded the university with fear toxin, each building had a sudden mass panic and no way out of them. He makes his way through the panicking crowds towards his old classroom, the strongest concentration of the fear inducing gas hovering near the ground and pouring out of the vents, the eerie green color making it look almost like a videogame scene

Sunday had finished her work and was quietly reading when a few people started coughing.

She looked up as the girl in the chair next to ehr started to tremble.

“Hey, Sylvia are you-“ she reaches towards her.

The girl lets out a guttural scream.

Sunday falls out of her chair.

There’s a wave of shrieking and Sunday covers her ears. Noticing the green fog.

She rushes over to the fire alarm and pulls it. Hoping the water from the sprinklers might douse whatever this stuff is.

She covers her mouth. Ears ringing as people rush for the doors.

“Windows!” She shouts but nobody hears her.

She gets into the fetal position on the ground covering her head with her arms as people flood to the exit stumbling over her.

It takes a moment for her to realize she’s finally alone in the room. Well maybe alone isn’t the right word.

There’s a person standing in the room. A burlap sack over his head.

Her eyes widen. And she watches him carefully. Shaking a bit from the shock of people trampling her. But mostly staring at the man with curiosity.

“Who are you?” She asks.

[here-comes-the-sunday]

“You keep calling me a hostage. That implies you get something out of this.” She remarks. Heading over to prep the chicken.

@nothing-to-fear-but-fear-itself

Johnathan had been fired from teaching at Gotham University for rumors of his criminal activity, and he didn't appreciate that. He decided to check the online chat boards his students used and found that most of them were complaining about their new professor, his rival and an overall terrible psychiatrist. One comment had stood out the most, a comment about the new professor's behavior towards his favorite student, a comment alluding to inappropriate behavior of some kind. He had to take action against that, it simply wouldn't do.

After a weeks worth of preparation, he flooded the university with fear toxin, each building had a sudden mass panic and no way out of them. He makes his way through the panicking crowds towards his old classroom, the strongest concentration of the fear inducing gas hovering near the ground and pouring out of the vents, the eerie green color making it look almost like a videogame scene

Sunday had finished her work and was quietly reading when a few people started coughing.

She looked up as the girl in the chair next to ehr started to tremble.

“Hey, Sylvia are you-“ she reaches towards her.

The girl lets out a guttural scream.

Sunday falls out of her chair.

There’s a wave of shrieking and Sunday covers her ears. Noticing the green fog.

She rushes over to the fire alarm and pulls it. Hoping the water from the sprinklers might douse whatever this stuff is.

She covers her mouth. Ears ringing as people rush for the doors.

“Windows!” She shouts but nobody hears her.

She gets into the fetal position on the ground covering her head with her arms as people flood to the exit stumbling over her.

It takes a moment for her to realize she’s finally alone in the room. Well maybe alone isn’t the right word.

There’s a person standing in the room. A burlap sack over his head.

Her eyes widen. And she watches him carefully. Shaking a bit from the shock of people trampling her. But mostly staring at the man with curiosity.

“Who are you?” She asks.

[here-comes-the-sunday]

“You sure you aren’t scared I’m going to stab you?” She replies playfully.

@nothing-to-fear-but-fear-itself

Johnathan had been fired from teaching at Gotham University for rumors of his criminal activity, and he didn't appreciate that. He decided to check the online chat boards his students used and found that most of them were complaining about their new professor, his rival and an overall terrible psychiatrist. One comment had stood out the most, a comment about the new professor's behavior towards his favorite student, a comment alluding to inappropriate behavior of some kind. He had to take action against that, it simply wouldn't do.

After a weeks worth of preparation, he flooded the university with fear toxin, each building had a sudden mass panic and no way out of them. He makes his way through the panicking crowds towards his old classroom, the strongest concentration of the fear inducing gas hovering near the ground and pouring out of the vents, the eerie green color making it look almost like a videogame scene

Sunday had finished her work and was quietly reading when a few people started coughing.

She looked up as the girl in the chair next to ehr started to tremble.

“Hey, Sylvia are you-“ she reaches towards her.

The girl lets out a guttural scream.

Sunday falls out of her chair.

There’s a wave of shrieking and Sunday covers her ears. Noticing the green fog.

She rushes over to the fire alarm and pulls it. Hoping the water from the sprinklers might douse whatever this stuff is.

She covers her mouth. Ears ringing as people rush for the doors.

“Windows!” She shouts but nobody hears her.

She gets into the fetal position on the ground covering her head with her arms as people flood to the exit stumbling over her.

It takes a moment for her to realize she’s finally alone in the room. Well maybe alone isn’t the right word.

There’s a person standing in the room. A burlap sack over his head.

Her eyes widen. And she watches him carefully. Shaking a bit from the shock of people trampling her. But mostly staring at the man with curiosity.

“Who are you?” She asks.

[here-comes-the-sunday]

She smiles as he laughs. Drying her hands.

“I suppose that masked sense. So where do you want me?” She asks.

@nothing-to-fear-but-fear-itself

Johnathan had been fired from teaching at Gotham University for rumors of his criminal activity, and he didn't appreciate that. He decided to check the online chat boards his students used and found that most of them were complaining about their new professor, his rival and an overall terrible psychiatrist. One comment had stood out the most, a comment about the new professor's behavior towards his favorite student, a comment alluding to inappropriate behavior of some kind. He had to take action against that, it simply wouldn't do.

After a weeks worth of preparation, he flooded the university with fear toxin, each building had a sudden mass panic and no way out of them. He makes his way through the panicking crowds towards his old classroom, the strongest concentration of the fear inducing gas hovering near the ground and pouring out of the vents, the eerie green color making it look almost like a videogame scene

Sunday had finished her work and was quietly reading when a few people started coughing.

She looked up as the girl in the chair next to ehr started to tremble.

“Hey, Sylvia are you-“ she reaches towards her.

The girl lets out a guttural scream.

Sunday falls out of her chair.

There’s a wave of shrieking and Sunday covers her ears. Noticing the green fog.

She rushes over to the fire alarm and pulls it. Hoping the water from the sprinklers might douse whatever this stuff is.

She covers her mouth. Ears ringing as people rush for the doors.

“Windows!” She shouts but nobody hears her.

She gets into the fetal position on the ground covering her head with her arms as people flood to the exit stumbling over her.

It takes a moment for her to realize she’s finally alone in the room. Well maybe alone isn’t the right word.

There’s a person standing in the room. A burlap sack over his head.

Her eyes widen. And she watches him carefully. Shaking a bit from the shock of people trampling her. But mostly staring at the man with curiosity.

“Who are you?” She asks.

[here-comes-the-sunday]

“Oh… does it cling to fabric too? I really like this shirt.” She frowns. Pretending to be thwarted.

She follows him to the sink.

“Does the toxin affect you?” She asks. “You’re exposed to it so often. And you said it can kill in high enough doses.”

@nothing-to-fear-but-fear-itself

Johnathan had been fired from teaching at Gotham University for rumors of his criminal activity, and he didn't appreciate that. He decided to check the online chat boards his students used and found that most of them were complaining about their new professor, his rival and an overall terrible psychiatrist. One comment had stood out the most, a comment about the new professor's behavior towards his favorite student, a comment alluding to inappropriate behavior of some kind. He had to take action against that, it simply wouldn't do.

After a weeks worth of preparation, he flooded the university with fear toxin, each building had a sudden mass panic and no way out of them. He makes his way through the panicking crowds towards his old classroom, the strongest concentration of the fear inducing gas hovering near the ground and pouring out of the vents, the eerie green color making it look almost like a videogame scene

Sunday had finished her work and was quietly reading when a few people started coughing.

She looked up as the girl in the chair next to ehr started to tremble.

“Hey, Sylvia are you-“ she reaches towards her.

The girl lets out a guttural scream.

Sunday falls out of her chair.

There’s a wave of shrieking and Sunday covers her ears. Noticing the green fog.

She rushes over to the fire alarm and pulls it. Hoping the water from the sprinklers might douse whatever this stuff is.

She covers her mouth. Ears ringing as people rush for the doors.

“Windows!” She shouts but nobody hears her.

She gets into the fetal position on the ground covering her head with her arms as people flood to the exit stumbling over her.

It takes a moment for her to realize she’s finally alone in the room. Well maybe alone isn’t the right word.

There’s a person standing in the room. A burlap sack over his head.

Her eyes widen. And she watches him carefully. Shaking a bit from the shock of people trampling her. But mostly staring at the man with curiosity.

“Who are you?” She asks.

[here-comes-the-sunday]

She laughs slipping her hand behind him on the counter nearer to his keys.

“I’m not sure. Though I find that when men know you find them attractive it makes things worse. So we can’t exactly run experiments on that now.”

@nothing-to-fear-but-fear-itself

Johnathan had been fired from teaching at Gotham University for rumors of his criminal activity, and he didn't appreciate that. He decided to check the online chat boards his students used and found that most of them were complaining about their new professor, his rival and an overall terrible psychiatrist. One comment had stood out the most, a comment about the new professor's behavior towards his favorite student, a comment alluding to inappropriate behavior of some kind. He had to take action against that, it simply wouldn't do.

After a weeks worth of preparation, he flooded the university with fear toxin, each building had a sudden mass panic and no way out of them. He makes his way through the panicking crowds towards his old classroom, the strongest concentration of the fear inducing gas hovering near the ground and pouring out of the vents, the eerie green color making it look almost like a videogame scene

Sunday had finished her work and was quietly reading when a few people started coughing.

She looked up as the girl in the chair next to ehr started to tremble.

“Hey, Sylvia are you-“ she reaches towards her.

The girl lets out a guttural scream.

Sunday falls out of her chair.

There’s a wave of shrieking and Sunday covers her ears. Noticing the green fog.

She rushes over to the fire alarm and pulls it. Hoping the water from the sprinklers might douse whatever this stuff is.

She covers her mouth. Ears ringing as people rush for the doors.

“Windows!” She shouts but nobody hears her.

She gets into the fetal position on the ground covering her head with her arms as people flood to the exit stumbling over her.

It takes a moment for her to realize she’s finally alone in the room. Well maybe alone isn’t the right word.

There’s a person standing in the room. A burlap sack over his head.

Her eyes widen. And she watches him carefully. Shaking a bit from the shock of people trampling her. But mostly staring at the man with curiosity.

“Who are you?” She asks.