The Bridge to Insanity
Chapter One: Guilty Abyss:
Edward was trying to keep his mind occupied as he strategically rearranged the furniture in the mansion for the hundredth time. He had begun to hum softly to himself. The ever growing feeling of being watched had become so unbearable and painstakingly nerve-racking that Edward felt his mind starting to go mad with anxiety and perplexed curiosity.
Upon scanning the empty room and coming up empty a shadow caught his eye. Sudden anger flashed through his body making his face grow hot and his mind to assume the blatant obvious of the situation. That a child had broken into the mansion and was acting a fool.
"Hey! Who's there!? I'm warning you! If you don't come out I will call the cops!", Edward tried to muster all the anger he had left to ensure that intruder took him seriously.
Silence. There was nothing but silence all around him. He felt drained and tired. He felt like he could sleep for a thousand years. Above all his heart ached of loneliness. He wanted to hear Oswald's voice again, but he knew that he would never hear it again.
The suffocation of his guiltiness was too overwhelming and thick. He slumped down on a couch and allowed silent tears to moisten his cheeks. He heavily sighed and closed his eyes.
"And my mother watches oo-ver me...ha if that were the truth than I would have seen her by now. Ed? Why such the long face? get it? long face? hehehehehe", A soft angelic voice probed the empty air.
Edward opened his eyes and saw Oswald standing over him with his head tilted to the left and smirking as if he had a really good secret that he didn't want to make known. Edward was so confused yet relieved to see Oswald. He stood up to hug him but hugged nothing but air.
"Ed, I'm not real, you know that, don't you?", Oswald's voice reached Edward's ears and Edward fell to the ground sobbing.
"I need you, Oswald, *sob* *sniff*, I thought that killing you would make me feel better, but, *sniff*, It just made me feel worse, *sob*, I'm so sorry, *sniff*, For shooting you and leaving you for dead.", tears of pain, tears of sorrow, and tears of anguish poured from his eyes as he explained his pain to the ghost of a lost friend.
"There, there, Ed, there, there, I'm not going anywhere until you move on, then I would simply disappear like Kristen Kringle did in the mirror. Besides, you did shoot me, didn't you? Let's face it, this is just a sick grieving method isn't it, Eddie, darling?", Oswald's voice was understanding yet prissy at the same time.
"How, how do you know about Kristen Kringle and her being in the mirror? Are you a ghost?", Edward quieted and looked up at Oswald who was lounging on the couch and twiddling his cane back and forth between his hands.
"To quote you about ghosts, you said quote: "ghosts aren't real" end quote, so no I must not be a ghost but, merely ah, let's say a projection of impulse, same as Kristen Kringle, am I right? The only one that you are not seeing is Is-a-Bellllla, am I right? You see, you only see the people that you cared about if you actually killed them.", Oswald mused, smiling.
"But, what? Are you saying that I only see my loved ones after they died at my hands and have become overwhelmingly guilty? I only saw Kristen in the mirror that one time. I never saw her before or after that. And Isabella? Are you implying that I'll never hallucinate Isabella because I didn't have a hand in her murder?", Edward was exasperated and angered by the truth of things.
"Precisely, lover boy, you greatly admired me and are overwhelmingly guilty because you pulled the trigger, thus you were also overwhelmingly guilty when you saw Kristen Kringle in the mirror months after you accidentally strangled her to death because you killed her last boyfriend and she was terrified of oh, yes, YOU. Am I leaving anything out?", Oswald's temper was slowly boiling in his imaginary veins because Edward was becoming more and more angry at the topic of the discussion.
Edward stood up and grabbed the lamp and angrily chucked it at Oswald who had vanished by the time the lamp reached the couch. Sighing, he walked over to the couch and picked up the lamp and walked over to the lamp's original stand and put it back.
Grunting, he grabbed the lamp again and chuck it at the wall adjacent to the lampstand; it shattered on impact. Edward then ransacked the whole lounge before sinking back onto the couch weary and emotionally burnt out. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Thirty Minutes Later:
Edward awoke to a soft chuckling that came from everywhere yet nowhere at the same time. He sat up wearied eyed and sleep deprived and tried scanning the room again but sleep took over and he slumped backward upon the couch letting his heavy eyelids close and a dreamless sleep prevailed, or so he thought.
"Oh, Ed, you big, silly, lovesick, lover boy. How on earth do you cope with such tragedy and pain, and suffering? *pout* You are such an empathetic loser. Letting your emotions get in the way. You'll never run Gotham that way. You'll just be put back into Arkham at this rate. Hahahahahahahahahaha...", the laughter consumed Edward's mind as it slowing ate away at his soul. Oswald's voice echoed in the void.
It kept telling him that "he was a loser" and that "he will never run Gotham being as pathetic as he was". Oswald taunted and teased Edward with unearthly malice and hate.
"What would you even call yourself? McRiddles? Riddle Dee Dee? Oh, I know, how about Riddles the Clownfish? I'd would call you, oh I don't know, hmmm, the Riddleghiest. You know why? Because you would haunt people with your stupidly complex riddles, that's why.", Oswald's voice was crisp and angry, with good reason.
After all, he had shot the man that he had begun to hallucinate him; all because of murdered love in the first degree. Edward wrestled with his inner demon of sorts trying rid Oswald from his mind, body, and soul forever. There had to be a way to be reborn anew and without the Penguin.
Oh, how he wished for a clear sane mind as of now. Oh, why was Oswald so deep within his roots? Why wouldn't he just go away? Oswald's words echoed in his ears, "You need me Edward Nygma, You can't have one without the other." Deep down he knew that the Penguin would always be apart of him, however, a small part of him knew that he did not need the Penguin. At least not anymore.
He knew one thing for certain that he needed to distance himself from the Penguin as much as possible. Until then, Oswald would become an annoying poltergeist of sorts. Grunting, he focused on what Oswald was trying to convey. He needed a name and a reason for his schemes and criminal mayhem. For now, he needed sleep and lots of it.
He couldn't deny that there was someone inside of him dying to come out. But who? Was the question. That person needed to come out, and for that to happen he needed a name. For, being good wasn't worth it anymore and his evil side wanted to come out and play.