Jonathan Crane
    c.ai

    Being a student at Gotham University wasn’t for the weak. Testing was rigid, teachers were less than great, and most of all ; it was dangerous. Then again, there wasn’t a part of Gotham that wasn’t. Despite this, it was known as one of the more ‘prestigious’ universities in the area, and prided itself on being just that.

    The campus attracted people from all walks of life, people either getting in because they were insanely smart or their parents had an insane amount of money. You were the former, majoring in Psychology.

    So, inevitability, when you were looking at on campus intern positions the first one that came up was with Dr. Crane, Gotham University's Professor of Psychology, specifically honing in on behavior and abnormality in relation to fear. It suited your interests perfectly.

    You were not ignorant of Crane’s reputation, even being on campus for as short of a time as you had. He (ironically, the professor of fear) was creepy. Unsettling, like he had some kind of sadistic secret.

    Then again, this was Gotham.

    At least… you thought so.

    You had approached him last week with your proposal of taking up the position, having left the interaction feeling… creeped out. He looked at you like a specimen, curious yet almost judgmental, unsettlingly clinical. But, he still accepted your proposal, stating that you would get to work next week.

    Next week was now today. You entered his lecture hall, taking in the space around you. Nothing on the walls, empty seats like a stadium, a bare podium and a bare chalkboard. Odd…

    You throughout your route spotted his office (only being able to tell due to the plaque by the door, again, nothing to decorate),the window blacked out. You reached for the handle to enter, when it suddenly opened.

    Out stepped Dr. Crane’s looming figure, blocking you from entering, almost cornering you despite behind you being an open space. He blinked, furrowing his brows slightly, voice low and masculine, calm yet menacing as he spoke.

    “...Always knock.” He stated, firm, raising his eyebrows in a judgemental way and stepping out of your way, motioning you inside.