"He knows it was you, Penguin."
A voice chortles from the other room. Oswald opens his eyes blearily. Ed had been tracking down Butch's whereabouts all night and Oswald had been half-heartedly helping. He had fallen asleep at one point, but he could still hear papers shuffling and mild-mannered cursing as he had drifted. The voice from the other room sounds familiar and makes Oswald a little unnerved. He likes for only his close friends or people he is about to kill to call him Penguin. He grabs a nearby walking stick and scrambles to his feet. He limps to the doorway and looks around the corner.
"He knows you killed Isabelle."
There goes the voice again. Oswald has yet to find the person the voice belongs to. If said person does not reveal himself, Oswald has just the tendency to slice his voice box directly out of his throat. He does not like to be toyed with and he most assuredly hates it when people waltz into his house without invitation.
"Isabella." He corrects softly.
"Aha! So, you admit it?"
Oswald's hands clench against the stick, scraping it against the floor as he wobbles past the large dining hall. There is a light fixture flickering in the bathroom just down the hall. He makes a small comment to gage where the voice is coming from. It must be the bathroom. Oswald breathes heavily before thrusting the door open. The room is completely empty, aside from the flickering light. Angry, Oswald pulls a revolver from his belt and fires at the light, shutting it out entirely.
"What're you going to do, Penguin?"
The voice chills his blood. He grips harder on the gun, turning it in all directions before coming clear to the mirror. He nearly fires until he realizes the eyes staring back are of his own reflection. He clicks the barrel back and slides it back into his belt. Oswald quivers to the sinks to wash his eyes out. He grabs a towel to dab his eyes when something catches his eye in the mirror. His reflection isn't washing his eyes and is instead staring at him.
"How is this possible?"
"You killed Isabella." His reflection states matter-of-factly. "I suppose you could say we did it, but who's going to believe that?"
"I must be insane."
"You are." His reflection concedes. "But that has nothing to do with this."
"You're not me. Who are you?"
The reflection stands taller but looks younger. He smiles in a wicked way and lets out a hollow cackle. "My name's Ozzie."
"I despise that name." Oswald cringes at the sound of it.
"Oh, I know. Your, or should I say our, dear Aunt Geraldine brought me to life that fateful night when we were what, eight?"
Oswald's face drains color. "That was real?"
START FLASHBACK
A lovely blonde woman with natural curls enters a magnificent ballroom with her young son. He is dressed smart, in a little tuxedo and bowtie. His hair is done to perfection and he has an identical imaginary friend at his side. He has had this friend for a few years now, but he has no name. The friend wants to name himself but has never come up with the perfect name. Oswald is told to run and play with the other kids, despite that he would rather be alone with Nameless a nickname he has grown used to calling his friend.
A frizzy red-haired lady marches over to pinch his cheeks and mutter 'What a cute little Ozzie-doll, Ozzie-bear', and other such gushy pet names over and over. She messes up his hair and wrinkles his tie each time. He frowns only a little but constantly covers it up with a sardonic smile, sarcasm lost on the adults. She seems to be the only person interested in him other than his mother. 'Ozzie' makes him sound so childish in his opinion childish and unimportant.
Oswald doesn't realize it, but he and Nameless begin to tail the redhead his Aunt Geraldine. She is the mother of a set of twin boys slightly older than Oswald. Nameless hates them and often insults them before realizing Oswald will need to fight in his place. Oswald is too polite to fight, since he wants his mother to stay with him always. The two overhear Aunt Geraldine rudely insulting Oswald's greasy hair and Gertrude's his mother's ratty dress. Oswald twitches. He doesn't care much for his hair at the moment, but he is certain his mother worked hard for that dress only to have to stitch it up and sew extra frames on it.
Blood boils in Oswald's body as he listens in on Aunt Geraldine, blatantly insulting his mother the woman's sister-in-law. Just because his father her brother left Gertrude, that gives no right to this treatment.. Oswald twitches violently and Nameless watches in fascination. He thrashes madly and Geraldine's attention is suddenly pulled toward him. Her sons stare at Oswald with wide eyes at first before one starts giggling and the other joins in. There are only a few other children and they are watching. Oswald's mother hurries over and tries to set him up.
"The doorbell's ringing, Mother."
Oswald speaks in a clear, firm voice taken over by his imaginary friend. His mother's eyes widen in acknowledgement. She gingerly helps him to his feet before running off in search of the front door. The young boy glares at the crowd before him. Some have gone away but a select few have remained. Geraldine is back to her sweet aunt ways. She moves to pinch her nephew's cheek, but he swats her hand away.
"Oswald, what has gotten into you?"
"My name, is Ozzie." He states calmly.
"Oh, Ozzie-dear." She tuts, reaching again for his cheek.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
One of her sons laughs at the comment. Ozzie doesn't fully look at him, but looks fiercely at him from the corner of his eye. Geraldine doesn't take the message seriously. She nudges her son to quit laughing and reaches out once more. Ozzie grips her hand with his perfectly manicured nails and bites. He bites hard enough to pierce the skin and draw a large amount of blood. When she attempts to wrench her hand away, his nails dig deeper and keep a firm hold. He lets go with his teeth and moves to her wrist. He bites down with equal strength not looking away from the woman's eyes.
Her sons begin to scream, finally gaining their collective voices as their mother's blood begins to pool out. Ozzie hates the screeching. With his profound strength and sudden limp, he keeps hold of Geraldine's wrist as he marches toward a closet, urging the boys to follow. His burning scowl is enough to keep them quiet. The eight-year-old finally lets go of his aunt. The nail-marks and bite marks are exceedingly visible. Ozzie forces one of his cousins to take his place and bite his mother's wrist. The threat of killing his twin is enough reason for him to do so. The older boy accidentally draws more blood and starts crying. Ozzie, on the other hand laughs maliciously. He throws one twin into the other, also enjoying the sound of their two skulls rushing into one another.
He leaves the closet and heads to the front door. His mom is sitting on the front porch, unclear of why she had come out there in the first place. When she sees Ozzie, her face brightens. She stands and takes him in a warm, loving embrace. As they climb into the car to leave, Ozzie separates from Oswald. The boys look at each other Oswald with confusion plus a little excitement, and Ozzie with pure malevolent exhilaration.
END FLASHBACK
"Very real." The evil Ozzie laughs. "We gonna quit lying now?"
"Lying about what?" Oswald grumbles.
"He knows it was you. And you know he knows, don't you, Penguin?"
"Shut up. You're just trying to make me paranoid." Oswald hisses. "Ed knows nothing. He thinks it was Butch."
"Right, Leader of the Red-Hooded Gang." Ozzie scoffs. "You don't think it was strange how that was set up? He's pressuring you to kill the man who stood by you when Mommy died."
"Don't you dare talk about"
"Hush." Ozzie holds up a hand. "While I like seeing you all riled up, I actually liked Mommy. I'm the immature killer in you, but I loved Mommy."
"Whatever." Oswald throws his hands up. "Ed thinks it was Butch and it's going to stay that way."
Oswald storms out of the bathroom. He angrily limps to his oversized lounge chair and collapses. He picks up a wine glass and pours some Chardonnay. When he looks up from the glass, before taking a sip, Ozzie is sitting on the couch.
"What do you want?"
"Maybe you're right. Maybe Ed does think Butch did it. But Eddie knows better."
"Eddie." Oswald repeats, downing a glass.
"Don't play dumb. It goes Riddler and Penguin, Ed and Oswald, Eddie and Ozzie."
"No, that's just some made-up load of"
"Oswald!" Ozzie shouts, causing Oswald to flinch a little. "You are not that dense! You are definitely not the only tortured soul in Gotham with an inner personality beckoning to be released!"
Oswald downs the rest of his alcohol and smashes the glass. "Go away, Ozzie. I need to think."
"Of a way to kill off more competition in an inconspicuous manner? Face it, brother. I'll be with you all the way whether you want me or not."
Oswald scowls heatedly. "We, are not, brothers. I killed my stepbrother and stepsister and made my stepmother eat them before I killed her too. That was all me. Not you."
"Yes ." Ozzie sounds upset. "You wouldn't move your ego. Your passion. You could let me capture Eddie while you take Ed."
"While, I, take, Ed?" Oswald slows his rage.
"You want him. He trusts you. Eddie would drop you in a heartbeat and Riddler would instantly kill you if not for Ed. Of course, Penguin doesn't even relish the kills. He wants it done nice and easy, and usually with someone else to do it for him. I, on the other hand, would attack him for you. If he is going to love you, I will step aside and you can take control. But if he goes off the deep end and hates you with one iota, I will take him down. You have my word."
"I," Oswald turns to face his counterpart with a wicked grin. "Thank you, Ozzie. This is going to be one hell of a friendship."
[][][ I didn't really know where to stop. Let me know what you think! I can't wait for the next episode! ][][]