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Exiting the Medical Facility, the four justice-seekers travelled to the west to head back to the mansion they had seen previously. In the time it took them to reach halfway there, the fear gas had released its grip on James and he soon calmed down, with Sam untying him fully when he did so. "You feelin' okay James?" "Y-yeah, I guess...c-can we just move on?" "Sucks don't it? Manbat told us it was fear gas, special stuff to make ya relive nightmares." "No shit..." He was emotionally drained from the effects the gas had on him, his eyes sore and red, the handkerchief put away by Max who took it down his well-trained throat with distaste at the taste of raptor tears. Salty and wet, he did not swallow but instead pushed it down to his "inventory" as he called it. "Eugh...sorrow tastes so bitter." Despite this, he tasted something odd from the napkin as Sam asked James: "You gonna be okay to keep walking?" "Yeah, I'll be okay." "Ya sure about that? That fear gas is pretty strong stuff, coulda sworn I started seeing visions myself." "You too Sam?!?" Max piped up with a crazy little grin, with Sam only smirking to reply: "Max, you don't count, you INDUCE fear into others yerself." "Heeheeheeheehee!" Ignoring the creepy giggle, James walked onwards behind Manbat, who lead them towards the mansion as they navigated through an underused cavern with an unguarded gate. The guards themselves had been knocked unconscious as they slipped through, back to the large cliff area they had first climbed down. The mansion still stood. Resolute with an air of madness surrounding it, the skyline of Chicago behind it. A city that occasionally fooled the raptor into thinking he was home, putting his head into his hands as he sighed with frustration.

"I just want to go home..." "It's okay kid," said Sam with a small pat to James' shoulder out of pity. "I'm already missing New York, and that's only because we get paid there." "This mansion is the home of Mayor Daley," said Manbat, nodding towards it when they stopped talking. "The guards have either been taken out or are inside already, so I suggest you three stick together when we enter." "Sounds like a plan," said Sam, nodding wisely. They crossed the somewhat uneven soil lit by the moonlight, and opened the ornate door to be greeted by a red carpeted hall, as well as a large bronze statue of the mayor himself. Chandeliers lit the place up in resplendently soothing tones, flickering orange on the walls. The whole place was given a stereotypically gothic feel, giving them all the feeling that they would be apprehended by one of three movie monsters. The mansion already was a testament to an ego, an ego as large as the island it owned. Max took Sam to one side to discuss something in muttered tones. "Sam, I uh...I gotta li'l thing to tell ya about." "Maaax, not until we get home." "Not that Sam, the dino!" "Hmm?" "I think he might be telling the truth about his girl." "Ya think?" "Maybe. Nobody has tears tastin' that bitter unless they lost someone real close to 'em." "Well, that may be, but if he really did kill a guy who killed her..." "Mmmmyeeeees?" Max smiled at the ideas pondering within, feeling that despite the fact they were members of law enforcement, revenge was usually rather kosher. But Sam said: "Max, I'm feeling torn here between my inherent sense of justice and what amounts to vigilantism." "Yeah, you get used to it though." With only an insanely large smile from his rabbit buddy, Sam walked back to James and the bat who walked onwards, the Manbat flying up to the ceiling and crawling through a vent too high for them. "Oh sure, leave us in the creepy hall," complained James as they had to wait with an ornate door that wouldn't budge despite their combined efforts. They were a little afraid to start shooting in case they alerted any guards within, as well as the fact that Sam was too impressed by the miraculous mahogany veneer to even dare damage it. Soon however, the door opened by itself with the bat before them. "Small lock on the other side, nothing complicated." "Hah, alright, thanks man." They continued onwards into a larger hall. Columns stretched tall above on either side of them. Various desks lay in one single corner to their left, of brown mahogany drawers and green surface tops, little lamps turned on all of them. A metal detector stood before them that they could easily sidestep. At the end of the hall was another grand statue facing them, this time made of marble not bronze, and of a different person.

One door was to their right in an alcove, with two more in somewhat secure see-through hallways on either side of the raised area, behind the statue at the far end. The room was rather high-ceilinged too, large enough to hide amongst the pillars' shadows, if one could reach them. "Sheesh, all we need is a pipe organ," said Sam. "And of course a creepy guy who has to wear a mask." "Max, I don't remember Gary Busey ever wearing a mask." "Why do ya think I mean him?" "Because I don't believe you are familiar with such works as the Phantom of the Opera, and you have a fear of Gary Busey." "I can't help it! The teeth, they talk to me, telling me to do terrible things!" Max held his head in a slight panic at the memory. "Terrible by society's standards, or by yours?" "I DON'T KNOW!" "Now you REALLY scare me buddy!" Sam said this with an almost nervous laugh as he loosened his tie just a bit, ringing it with his finger as Manbat made his echolocation work, sensing where his nemesis could be. "Not in here...who's got the best sense of smell?" "Well I AM a police dog," said Sam. "And I'm good enough to know the difference between drinks by smell," added James. "Pfft, I can tell what blood type you guys are!" said Max with a devilish grin, sniffing James to freak him a bit and say, "huh, B type. Yeaaah that suits ya." "Max I told you to stop reading those Japanese women's magazines." "But I feel so pretty when I read them, desu!" "Well if we were anime characters that might be acceptable. But I'd...no wait, I might say something too racy, never mind." Manbat clicked his fingers to get their attention and said: "We need to pick up Joke Rat's scent, he must have passed through here, I want you to find this scent." Manbat brought out from his small bag-laden belt a little handkerchief, slightly greasy, the three sniffing it to give their different opinions. "Barely any sweat," said Sam, "guy must be a cool hardened criminal." "Rubbing alcohol too," said James, "maybe he got hurt and had to deal with a wound?" "Type O Positive!" "Good, you three are getting sharper on your toes. Now, James, go check the door to the side. Sam, Max, go to the far end of the hall. I'll scope out any additional possible routes he might have taken in the rafters." The three took their places in sniffing out the scent. James never really had to rely on his scent much, though it was certainly sharper than a human or so he heard, not that he could even imagine having so weak a sense. He chuckled to himself at how one time a distributor tried to cheat Sarah out of some quality Heineken Dutch Lager by replacing the beer with Kopparberg Swedish Cider in bottles that had no distinguishable markings. But he had picked up the more fruity traces in the crate, and saved Sarah a lot of trouble after she smashed a few glasses into the swindler's face before he reconsidered.

"Heheheh, glassed him good." He murmured to himself, while finding no familiar scent of Joke Rat, or anything near rubbing alcohol. Max however excitably bounced near the door left of the statue. "GUYS GUYS, I GOT IT!" "Ya picked up the scent li'l guy?" asked Sam. "Yeah, right here!" Manbat swooped down as they found the door to be locked, but it was soon sorted out with a little lockpicking from Max. He used a very hard hair from his fur before it clicked open. The bat vigilante gave his nod of approval. "Impressive. Let's go, this is the way to the records room." The four headed in, soon ducking out of sight near the stairs to the record room when they saw a few armed guards, or rather armed rats. "They ain't the asylum guards, I think," quipped Sam pointlessly. "Joke Rat's men. Thugs he knows from around the place, they'll follow him anywhere." "Cuz he's such a great guy with a fantastic insurance policy?" asked Max. "No, because they fear him." "So how you wanna take 'em out?" asked James, ready to fight. "Silently, we want to get the drop on those two. James, can you do that?" "Hehe, oh sure, just say when." The raptor eagerly got his haunches tensed and ready to spring as Manbat said: "You two stay back and guard that door in case anyone comes through. Alright, James...ready?" James nodded and waited for the signal. When he heard go, he went, leaping across the stairs with a powerful leap like his ancestors would upon a succulent Triceratops. He surprised one rat with a vicious pounce on his little body, the other barely having time to register what happened when a winged creature headbutted into him, and knocked him out cold. James was pleased. Even if he wanted a longer fight, one solid claw kick to the rat's now bloodied but not critically wounded face had knocked him out. The four walk up into the records room, carefully opening the door to be confronted by a hell of a mess.

The place was full of papers scattered all over the place, official looking ones for all sorts of things. One section, or rather one WALL, was purely for the asylum. Another was for the actual records of Chicago itself, the city's fiscal budget and such. Every inch of wall was filled with filing cabinets, and more still lined the centre in a straight line, occasionally broken up with empty spaces to pass between them. Grates lined up in interspersed placements along the central area. Walkways with elaborate cast-iron bannisters lined the upper floor, with a ladder on every section, the room itself in a cross-like fashion with a left and a right corridor before the four. One way lead to an office, the other to a special records room protected by an electric field. Either way, there seemed to be no trace of Joke Rat far as they could see. They could see well enough thanks to the green-shaded lamps and a resplendent glass window at the far end of the hall, moonlight peering down on the records. "Hate to tell ya but I see no rats," said Sam as he thumbed through various little papers. "Well...maybe a few here, holy mackerel they cheated HOW much out of that school!?!" "OOH lemme see!" Max looked over out of interest while James looked around the place on his own. Rows upon rows of disorganised papers, the bat flapping around the place for any small clue, snarling to himself slightly to not find his nemesis there. "Hah, take that jazz class!" spouted the rabbit. "Now Max, please respect that jazz is a culturally important musical style inherently African-American for its vibrant origins and signature style of brass instruments, from its beginnings in New Orleans all the way up to masterful fusion blends in the 1970s and onwards. Indeed, one of the greatest additions to American culture to come from the abolition of slavery in the early 20th century." "I know Sam, I just love schadenfreude." "You mean the great Tunisian jazz musician and expert oud player?!?" "Nah yer thinkin' of Dhafer Youssef." "Oh yeaaah..." "Any luck up there?" asked James as the dog and rabbit rambled on to themselves. "Nothing. But he must have passed by here." "Might be something in one of the side rooms." "Perhaps. Check the one over there, it looks occupied." "Uhhh...kay."

The raptor walked up the stairs one way to an office door. Through the window he saw two shadowy figures inside struggling with something. He beckoned Manbat over to look. "You see anything in there?" "Hmmm..." a quick echo told all as he spied through the keyhole. "Two guards, tied up, explosives wired to the door. We open this, the place either blows up or gasses the room out." "Shit, how do we get in?" "Hmmm...no vents into the room. Only way in is the door, which if moved will activate the explosives." "So break the window." "Specially protected glass, unbreakable." "Pfft, please, I've known plenty of stuff that was 'unbreakable' that isn't gonna be fixed ever. This window has some way of breaking." "Maybe we can help there." Sam gave a wink, walking over with Max as he stuffed his hand into the rabbit's throat and felt around the stomach lining to find a rather odd looking item. It appeared to be some sort of tuning fork with a little bend in it. "Uhhh what's that?" asked James. "A tuning fork looted from the tomb of the mad female Darlu'ghan, an Irish woman said to be able to turn a man insane with her voice, and this is what she used to tune herself with." "Like Sarah Palin with her book!" "Or people who recolour videogame characters as a pathetically lazy excuse to make their own!" "...so," said James slowly as he tried not to get distracted, "won't that drive us all crazy if we hear that?" "That's why we got these!" Max also pulled out a pile of cotton, somewhat gooey. "Stick 'em in yer ear so we can break it and not get broken too!" "Ewwwwwww, dude that was in your stomach!" "Oh don't be such a baby," said Sam as he pulled a glob of it off and stuffed it into James' claws, "you probably had worse on yer hands." "Yeah...but I didn't stick my fingers in my ears after." With no other choice, James reluctantly stuck the cotton wool into his ears, as did Manbat then Max then Sam, who brought the tuning fork to the window and tapped it. It started to resonate what to them sounded like a dull whistling sound. After six seconds, it shattered the glass completely, with Sam immediately stopping the ringing with his hand as they all unplugged their ears. James was astounded. "Hah, holy shit it worked!" "Told ya it would Jimmy." "James." "Right, so let's check those guards. Hey there!" Sam waved through the open window at the guards who were tied up in two chairs, blindfolded and gagged, muffling pleas as Manbat swooped through the window. He quickly disabled the bomb, expertly so, and undid their restraints as they said: "Oh, god, thanks, I was getting real panicky there." "What happened?" "That fucking white rat bastard had his gang mob us and stuff us here and tied us up with something, we didn't know what was going on!" "What were they looking for?" "I-i-i dunno, they were turning the place upside down and then ran out, but I heard that rat with all that makeup on his face say to look somewhere else!" "So, they didn't find the deeds." "Wh-what?" "Never mind. You're free to go."

They opened the door and let the guards leave the room, glad to be free and thanking the four without any further trouble. Manbat began to ponder. "So Joke Rat couldn't find the deeds here." "What are these deeds exactly?" asked James. "The deeds to the island, or rather the ownership of such that Daley had." "Why would a crazy bastard like him want to own this shit hole?" "I wish I knew. But whatever his reason, he's still dangerous, and that means taking him down and making sure he doesn't get those deeds. Let's go." The four returned to the hall but not before Max decided to grab a candle off a holder and without hesitation, swallowed it entirely into his throat, surprising his three allies. "Hee Sum, look whut uh cun do!" "Wha-dammit Max, I told ya before, no wax!" "Bu-Suuuuum!" The rabbit's mouth was gummed up with wax as he started to blow out an immense blast of fire from his lips, across an array of papers that easily began to burn. Manbat was not impressed, as James started to panic at the fire. "FUCK, WATER, SHEET, SOMETHING!" He ran around the room looking for a sheet or something suitable enough, feeling his arms twitch from his panicking before he found an oddly wet one near his hand. It was beside one of the filing cabinets in the corner, as he sweeped it onto the fire before stamping it out hastily. "Ehhh....sorry," said Max weakly with Sam shaking his head in disapproval. "Max, remember the time we tried to burn anything made from AOL?" "Yyyyyeah?" "Remember what we said?" "Never burn anything made by AOL because the fires of hell feeds it?" "Mmmmyeah but the other thing." "Oh, no more fire tricks!" "Thaaaaaat's it. Good work James, that was some quick fire-dropping, Smokey would be proud." "Uhhhh...no problem." said the raptor, feeling his hands start to shake less. Sam petted the bunny's head as they did not say another word, hurrying back to the hall to go the other way. Returning to the main hall, they found the place to be a little more occupied than before. In their time in the record room, a gang of rats had commandeered the central area, armed with guns, one of them manning the radio. "Yeah boss, we got the place secure...no the snipers are up on the rafters good. Course nobody's gonna hear us unless they're a ba-oh shit sorry."

Of course, Manbat was able to hear all of this from the far side of the room, telling his allies what awaited them. "A few snipers are above us ready to kill. Other than that everyone else is right there." "How do we do this?" asked James. "No need for subtlety here." "Good, I hate subtlety." "You an' me both," said Max with a little grin as they got ready with their guns. Manbat flew to the rafters silently, taking down the snipers as swiftly and as silently as possible, too silently as neither enemy nor friend knew when the deed had been done. Manbat gave his signal with a graceful bow from above that only they could see, as the rest began to fire on the rats. "SHIT IT'S THEM!" "TAKE COVER!" Sam was the most accurate of the three shooters, his long revolver easily crippling opponents left and right. He never aimed for fatal shots as he took down five of them in agonising squeaks when they fell over, losing control of their limbs. James was less cautious of casualties, trying to aim his semi-automatic pistol carefully to at least cripple the rats, but usually going for the kill. And he did upon four of them, wounding two more. One rat managed to shoot him in the arm, their tiny handguns zipping out tinier bullets befitting their small stature. It made them all the more difficult to shoot, moreso to wound but not kill. Max was lucky if he even managed to hit one enemy, his Luger being good in itself, but his small body not handling the recoil particularly well. He became a danger to anyone within his sight and out of it. He did manage to hit one rat, surprisingly at the same time James killed him from both sides of his head. The body had no idea where to fall down before it did so. The rats were soon picked off by Manbat himself when it came down to only three left, screeching to disorient them before they were all taken down with choking headlocks, armtwists and a brutal headslam into the ground. Overall, only James got hit, with a few pellet-sized bullets hitting his arms and upper body. "Fffffffuuuuuck, that stings!" "Ya hurtin' bad there?" asked Sam in a worried tone. "A li'l...shit those bullets are small, how did they get guns that small!?" "Specially made," replied Manbat, "Joke Rat's got a lot of contacts, the bullets might not hurt as much as normal ones, but enough of them can cause damage."

He looked over James' small wounds and brought out a salve to patch him up. He was lucky enough to not get hit on any major arteries. "You'll live." "Uhhh thanks." "Maybe if you were a li'l less cocky you'd not have got hit," said Sam. "And maybe if you were a li'l more shut the fuck up, I wouldn't have to tell you, officer." "Enough." Manbat's terse tone made them shut up. "We already got delayed by Joke Rat's goons, let's not delay any longer, come on." And so they headed to the east part of the mansion through the door opposite the one they had come from. They soon found themselves in a long hallway that seemed to stretch out further than they thought. Various items of apparently historical value seemed to line up the stately corridor in glass cases. The hallway itself was as tall as the main hall, but thinner with no columns. Only large storm-tinted windows and the occasional painting of the mayor of Chicago himself would be seen, a man in his old age, the face of a nearly well-preserved grape. "What's this guy's problem?" asked the raptor as they walked further down the corridor. "I dunno whether he loves his city or thinks he's above it." He found himself staring at the painting long enough to turn around and find his allies not anywhere nearby, suddenly alone in the hall, in the midst of the moonlight from outside. "Uh guys...guys?! Where'd ya go?!?" He thought perhaps they found another way and hurried back to the door he came from, only to find the hallway stretch out towards an infinite darkness. The cases were no longer there, the walls still the same wood panelling as every part of it was. The carpet still remained soft and dusty beneath his claws, but there was no door. Soon he turned back to find the same unending darkness facing him. "Wh-what the hell's this funhouse shit, guys where are you!?!?!" "What's the hold up?" A familiar female voice came to him from the painting of Daley. Looking up he saw it speak yet the lips did not move, still in that rougher female voice. "I been waitin' for you to come back Rex." "..........Sarah?" The painting soon exploded in a blast of water, shooting all over him. Cold and salty like the sea as he saw a face he had not seen in so long. His mind started to panic, and yet while he would have questioned it at any other time, here and now he did not. His mind was caught unguarded as he saw the face of a middle-aged dolphin bitch. "S-SARAH!" "So ya finally came back. Got tired of travelling?" "Oh god...boss, I....I-i-" "Save it, tell me everything that happened later. I'll buy ya a drink, then mommy'll tuck ya in."

She hugged him tenderly. It was her skin alright, just as he remembered it. Smooth and rubbery with a coolness on the top, but a warm undercurrent beneath the flesh he enjoyed as he embraced tighter. It was truly her, his mind not even trying to consider such an implausible thing, as she slowly slid her hands downwards to his tail. "S-s-sarah...I've missed you, I knew you'd still be alive!" "What, ya thought they could kill me?" "W-well no, but I heard you...I heard you go down. They looked for me, they couldn't find me, I dunno what happened but I just...just...teleported away." "Hehehe, that's whatcha get for drinkin' the absinthe." "...I love you." He hugged her tightly, as tight as he could, as if the world was going to suck her away from him at any moment as she only murmured: "Shhhh...my li'l boy don't need to get in trouble ever again." And then came a deep kiss. A kiss he had not felt for a long time. It was a soft one, just on the lips. nothing special. A motherly kiss that he took with relish before he felt something warm on his cheek. He imagined it to be her finger, sighing with eyes closed and feeling for once relieved and happy, yet exhausted. Then the warm finger slowly slid along his snout to his lips where he opened and began to suckle. It felt oddly stiff. And hard. And metallic. Then he opened his eyes and saw her revolver in his mouth. "Mmph!?!" "Don't worry James...I know where to put you so nobody'll ever hurt ya again...and where you can't kill anyone either." "MMPH-GUUHHK!" She forced him to swallow the entire barrel down to the back of his throat, gagging on it as she stroked his head with a strangely loving touch, kissing his head. He started to whimper with tears of confusion. "Shhhhh...it's alright sweetie, this is what's best for you." And then came the sound of a gunshot to his ears, just as he started to scream. He was deafened, briefly, yet he felt nothing in his throat. Instead, he felt it in his stomach. Looking down, he saw his stomach blown apart by the sawn-off shotgun in her other hand, feeling the blood dripping hotly down his crotch and jeans. Tears of confused pain ran through him as he started to black out and fall backwards. The last thing he remembered seeing was a vaguely angelic figure, large wings and thick griffon-like body, murmuring: "The Eye may be open...but the mind hasn't the strength to see..." And with that, he felt his eyes close.

Then he was immediately woken up by a hefty slap in the face from Max. "HEY, WAKEY WAKEY!" "AGH WHA FUCK!" "Hey Sam, he's up again!" "Great job li'l buddy, yer gettin' another cookie when we get back." "Wh-wh-wha...what happened?" James was extremely confused, finding himself lying on the floor of an office elsewhere, head propped up against a desk as Manbat explained. "Scarecrow's fear gas got pumped into the corridor we were in. I managed to put protection on before I went under the effects." "And we're just plain immune to hallucinogens," added Sam with a feeling of pride. "Well...most of them anyway." "So whatcha dream about then huh?" asked Max, rather curious. "I wanna know all about the mental anguish ya went through, damn I wish I had my tape recorder!" "Max, collecting insane ramblings is not a hobby." "Says you!" "Uhhhh...I don't wanna talk about it okay?" said James defensively. "Was it yer girl again?" Sam asked this, his tone of concern more apparent as he bent down to look at the raptor's expression, dazed and misty-eyed. Feeling more trusting than before to the detective, he began to explain as he sensed Sam's empathy. "...someone I knew...in this city or my world's version of it...she...she hugged me close, and kissed me, the only one who looked after me for that long...and then shot me in the stomach. Then I heard this voice far away rambling about eyes and minds not being strong enough to see." "Scarecrow's tricks should not be treated like dreams," said Manbat cautiously. "They only serve to bring fear and paranoia to your mind and drive you to death with insanity." "B-but it was so real! She was there, I felt her, I hugged her, she had that rubber skin like a dolphin and-" "Snap outta it James!" Sam's stern voice broke through his train of thought, the raptor ooking up at him and seeing an actual concern he did not notice before. "You've taken worse than this, I bet you have. What's one crazy hallucination compared to trying to get outta here without being shot at or electrocuted or mauled to pieces?" Eventually James sighed and nodded. "You're right...it's stupid shit anyway, I'm still way away from home and anything that crow bastard can dish out shouldn't affect me. Come on guys, let's go! But...where are we again?"