The Story of Oswald Cobblepot
Chapter 1: The Penguin's Heart
By The Laughing Fish
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story which it all belongs to DC Comics. All I own in the stone, and the story folks :)
Oswald Cobblepot rested by the fire he had made a couple of minutes ago, head in hand, with the distant echoing of an owl's hoots to be heard within his sleeping chambers. His small, rotund silhouette reflected off of the lit stone wall, as he doze off reluctantly, tired from his encounter with the costumed vigilante, Batman.
Earlier that night Oswald had attempted stealing a rare, priceless, gem called "The Penguin's Heart." He had longed for it ever since he heard that is would be shipped to Gotham from the Netherlands. Maybe it was the bitter blue color of the stone or its name that had attracted him to it. But in his lonely mind he believed it called to him. After all, where would The Penguin be without his heart?
He had planned and staged his robbery of the Gotham Museum thousands of times. This would be his most triumphant act ever. Oswald felt that he had rehearsed the break in better than an opera. Every exit memorized, every movement meticulously planned, and all the best were hired or bribed. Even his fellow rogues would have been jealous of him he believed. He had visualized in his mind the way the others would have reacted. The Joker would have laughed his head off. Ivy would have had hid amongst her garden sulking. And Two Face wouldn't have known whether to hit him or kill him, or do both. Although the Penguin, deep down, knew that none of his fellow scoundrels would envy him. None of them wanted a precious little jewel; all they wanted would be to kill Batman. He normally shared that same vision, but this time, he thought to himself, I just want my stone.
On the night of the heist, the Penguin sat a top a crate outside the museum, anticipating the moment when he would be reunited with the gem. He felt the cold zephyr ruffle his hair and tickle his chin. He bent down and picked up a duffle bag at his feet and pulled out a top hat placing it gently upon his balding head. He grabbed an umbrella and hobbled towards the entrance of the museum. The doors were unlocked and he entered. He had bribed one of the security guards a few days before to leave the double doors unlocked for him when the clock struck 10, leaving him two hours until the guards came once again, leaving Oswald with just the electronic security to take care of. He turned around so that his plump body faced the doors he had just entered, and motioned with his hand for the others to enter. The Penguins hired help came in, the gun's triggers latched on by trembling hands, wondering when their superior would lead the way. The Penguin pointed to a steel box on the wall and all three men looked. The Penguin then slowly moved his index finger towards one of the quivering men with the other's curious eyes following like ducklings to their mother. The Penguin then whispered to the man at whom he had pointed to, whose eyes widened in fear.
"Rick, go shut off that wretched security system," after a brief pause the man Rick didn't do anything except stare from the metallic box to The Penguin, which irritated Oswald, "Now! I haven't got all day and neither does the Dark Knight. If you don't want him to catch us then do what I hired you for!" Rick nervously walked towards the defense system, stumbling a couple of feet in front of it, then with shaking fingers, began to turn off the metal structure. After five minutes or so, all of the security cameras and other security defenses were shut off. The Penguin waddled towards the staircase with anxious men behind him. Oswald turned around to stare at his men.
"Well? Get to your stations; we don't want that pestering vigilante to ruin my plans." The Penguin began turning around when another man, who was broad-shouldered and hairier than Rick spoke.
"Mr. P, what happens if we see the bat?" The man said with a very thick Brooklyn accent. The Penguin looked over his shoulder.
"You shoot him!" With that, The Penguin parted from his team and opened a door leading to a dark stairway. After climbing three flights of stairs, The Penguin eagerly opened the door leading to the gems and rocks section of the museum panting heavily.
"Now I know why nobody cares to take those god forbidden stairs anymore." Oswald murmured under his breath looking at the elevator in praise, still wheezing from his tiresome walk. He toddled sluggishly towards the glass container which cased "The Penguin's Heart." Once that he was in view of the jewel inside, he gave a loud cry.
"Damn it all!" he screeched as he scuttled towards the glass. In the jewel's place was neatly composed note which read, "I got you."
"I GOT YOU! I GOT YOU! WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSE TO MEAN!!!" Oswald barked, pushing over cases containing other rare gems. He let out a single tear of frustration as he punched the glass which confined the note. His hand released a few specks of blood as he kept on hitting the glass with his bleeding hand. His hand was covered in blood and his face streaked with tears now of both pain and aggravation. He let out a squawk and whispered faintly, "It's not fair." He shook his head and then an entirely different emotion filled up in him. Anger. His body began to vibrate with resentment as he stood up on his wobbly feet.
"It was that infuriating vigilante. He always ruins my plans! He knew I was planning to come here and he set me up! I know it was him!" The Penguin yelled. The quiet museum was now filled with Oswald's screams of rage.
"Come out here and be a man, not like the usual animal you are, you," Oswald hesitated a bit before he shouted out along with the other hate diseased words, "you, bastard!" He grabbed the umbrella off the glass covered floor with his good hand. He pressed on the button closest to his thumb and began shooting randomly at the empty spaces of the museum hoping that maybe the Dark Knight would be in one of those areas for Oswald to shoot him in his breasts infiltrating his awful, shriveled up heart.
Just as Oswald began firing at yet another vacant spot to his right, something plunged from the ceiling and lunged in front of him swiftly, snatching his weapon. The masked figure looked deep into Oswald's eyes. Behind the two tattered eye slits in the mask, Oswald saw Batman was hurt by his cruel words. The Dark Night quickly looked away for a moment and spoke in his usual gruff voice.
"Penguin, I know you don't want to fight neither do I, if you just come with me now to the police head quarters…" Batman paused and looked at the Penguin wearily.
"Never you devil! On the contrary…" Oswald quickly thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out two hand grenades. He stabbed his elbow into Batman's gut, leaving the Knight startled. "Bon voyage vigilante." He removed the ammo's latch and chucked one of them aggressively at Batman, holding firmly onto the other explosive. The Dark Knight quickly released The Penguins parasol and reached for the falling bomb. Oswald shoot up and reached for his much loved weapon, which fell into his arms. He gripped onto its handle with his unoccupied hand and pressed on a yellow button, which released three sharp propellers from its end. In a blaze he was floating over Batman, looking for a way out. He noticed with the corner of his eye a window with bright colors of green and blue for its frame. He raced towards it, knowing that in a matter of seconds the Dark Knight would have caught the grenade and that he would chase after him. He fluttered in front of the transom so that he could see the dark starry night dancing outside for him. He rammed into the window, umbrella first, and smelled the outdoors for what felt like the first time in ages as the propellers helped him soar in the sky. Oswald turned around facing the broken window he exited from and yelled into the dark luminous sky.
"Dark Knight, you haven't gotten me yet and let it stay that way." With that he soared into the night, empty handed, and feeling at loss, lost with words, and at a loss with his spirit and mind.
As Oswald lay on the floor of his old mansion which he had inherited from his father, he felt a gentle waft of air stroke his neck and fingers. He woke up dazed hurrying towards an open window that was situated at the rear of his grand bed. He shut it abruptly and looked around. He hadn't remembered leaving it ajar after his rendezvous tonight with the masked hero. He glanced from one place to another turning on one of the lights, his eyes now trying to focus to his surroundings after being in the dark for a few hours. He felt as blind as a bat to the light that filled his room. After a few moments his eyes became adjusted to the brightness and he saw nothing out of place. There was nobody in the room except for himself. He began to doubt that anyone had come here at all; he never got any robbers make a trip there let alone visitors.
He sat back down on a large, cushioned, blue chair and thought of his loneliness. Maybe I am crazy, Oswald contemplated to himself, I believed that stone was calling to me and I thought someone came into my humble estate. Or maybe I'm just a lonely man. Hell, the only friends I've got besides those selfish rogues are my birds. And surly birds couldn't count at all as socializing with a thinking, breathing person. He let out a soft sigh and went to sleep for the second time again that night.