The birdman began chuckling under his mask. It sounded metallic and demonic. His breath beating against the metal mask while the nose shook lightly up and down with his laughter. The birdman collected himself and gazed with somber at the prosecutor before turning his back towards the door.
"HOLD IT!" The prosecutor commanded, pointing his courtroom finger at the dark figure. "I advise you give back those documents and that vial." Edgeworth didn't want to admit it, but there was something uncanny about this man that made him feel uncomfortable.
The birdman bobbed his head with another chuckle before turning on his heel to look at the prosecutor again. He raised the file and vial in hand slowly and playfully. He fiddled with the vial and waved the file lightly in the air, "do you mean these?"
The prosecutor gave an agitated look at the birdman. His shoulders began to tense and he clenched the fist that was by his side. "Hand. Those. Back."
"I don't think so, Prosecutor." The black eyes of the mask were still glaring at the the grey haired man. The birdman was walking towards Edgeworth. His presence was making the room darker as each step approached Edgeworth. The birdman stopped until his beak can almost touch the cravat on the prosecutor's neck. The mask twisted and turned as he was inspecting Edgeworth's face and demeanor. Edgeworth could smell the aroma of the birdman, he didn't know darkness itself can even attain an smell. He could only compare it to the smell of moisture and old paper books.
"Are you scared, Prosecutor?" His voice made a great emphasis on the last syllable. Edgeworth, as much as he hated it, the birdman was quite right. Edgeworth was still holding his stoic demeanor despite the mystery figure in front of him. The birdman slowly encircled Edgeworth, up and down. Inspecting, analyzing, judging the prosecutor with his pace. The birdman stopped beside him, his beak lightly touching the magenta shoulder of the prosecutor.
"You would be a very useful vessel." His tongue slithered by the last word. Edgeworth stood perfectly still, trying to hide all emotions behind his pokerface. His eyes darted to the black pointed beak with its white trim on his shoulder, holding the shudder that wanted to break from its hold and spread through his body. It was cold despite his suit keeping his skin and the metal from touching each other. The birdman continued, "I might even recommend you, Prosecutor. It would be an honor… for you…"
"Back up, pal!" Gumshoe demanded. The birdman didn't look around, but Edgeworth did. He saw detective Gumshoe holding his gun in his hands, who was pulling back the hammer of the gun to ready his shot towards the dark man. Ema was slumped on the floor, still unconscious and unaware of the scene that was in front of her. "Put your hands up, now!"
The dark man finally rotated and looked at the detective, still next to Edgeworth. A chuckled escaped the mask, until it started growing into full blown laughter. The laughter went into Edgeworth's ear and it felt like an earthquake. Edgeworth quickly squirmed and darted behind the morgue table. The birdman did not flinch, but snickered in his mask, both towards the detective and the cowering prosecutor behind the table.
"I said put them up now!" Gumshoe put his finger on the trigger, now more confident on his target since Edgeworth was out of the way. Gumshoe tried to stay calm and collected, but the birdman knew better.
"Now. Now, detective. It wouldn't be wise to give me orders. If you shoot me now, you would be unaware of the location of your wife." Gumshoe froze. His eyes widened, a cold sweat broke out while his body went cold and his heart sunk to his stomach. "M-Maggey?"
The metallic muffled voice continued. "Yesss, detective. Your beloved wife is now in my possession. I would recommend letting me go. And in exchange, I would release your precious love from her shackles." The dark figure shuffled in the breast pocket his coat and took out a picture of Maggie. Her eyes pink and tear stained, tied helplessly to a chair and a gag in her mouth. The background couldn't be seen, while a light that showered over the hostage.
"WHERE IS SHE?!" Gumshoe lost it. The goofball of a detective turned into a raging and protective wreck. The detective gave a frantic, but enraged look at the birdman. His gun was shaking in his hand, while the handle of the gun began to become slick with his sweat almost enough to slip from his grip.
"All in good time, detective. She will return to you. As long as I stay untouched and uninterrupted out of that door." The birdman gestured towards the door with the file in his hand. Gumshoe's breathing was borderline hyperventilating, contemplating whether to trust this evil stranger and let him walk out of the building with any chance of seeing his wife again. He looked over the table where Edgeworth was, his legs bent towards his chest, still in minor shock. It was his decision now. He had to choose whether to let the birdman go, trusting his word to release his wife or arrest him now and to never reveal her location. The cold feeling was replaced by heat and burning at his neck and his chest, 'Maggey...'
Gumshoe made his mind. He lowered the gun by his side, arms swinging by his sides now. His head down in defeat, tears about to break from the scruffy detective. "Go…"
"A very wise choice detective. You need not worry; always keep my word." The birdman bowed, file in hand and vial in the other. "I bid good day."
The dark man turned around and left through the doors, his dark coat swaying behind him. The doors swaying against each other let out a small gust of wind into the quiet room. The gust slightly brushing the trench coat of the detective, who's head was still spinning on whether he made the right choice. 'Maggey… I'm so sorry, Maggey...'
Gumshoe wiped his hand over his eyes and looked at Ema's passed out body. He bent down, lurching during his descent and pulled her over his shoulder. He went to Edgeworth and shook his shoulder to snap him out of his phobia, "Sir… let's go."
