What If [Nygmobblepot]

Ch8: Menacing and Weird

Edward's POV

"Mr Nygma."

Snapped out of my thoughts, I realize I'm frozen in the middle of work, staring into nothing as my mind is going on overdrive.

"Miss Kringle." I reply politely as I notice her and quickly proceed on looking for the file I needed.

She hesitates. "I just noticed something really weird."

I glance at her. "Oh?"

"This note Officer Dougherty left for me..." She shows it to me but I look at her instead of the letter. "The first letter of every line spells out your name." I look at her, baffled that she really noticed it and suddenly terrified of me being linked to his disappearance at all. She hands it to me and I take a hold of it carefully. "You see? N-y-g-m-a." She spells my name and I look at her, partly in amazement. She really noticed it.

I smile quickly as she looks at me. "Yes." I just say. "How- how- how odd. Wha- what an amazing coincidence." I observe.

"Coincidence?" She repeats.

I shrug and keep smiling. "What else could it be?"

She seems dubious. "So, you know nothing about this?"

"I? Me? No. No." I shake my head and turn back to the files. "No." I repeat, giving her a smile.

"Huh." With that she walks off and glances at me one more time at the door before closing it between us.

I stand there for a while, staring at the door and waiting for her to leave. Then I laugh. Actually, I laugh so much my vision goes a little off quickly and I feel dizzy.

You're the guy that likes riddles.

"Why are you laughing?" I ask myself quietly. "You fool, it's not funny."

What a creep.

"She'll keep digging." I tell myself. "Why did you have to leave a clue?!" I demand, hitting the file drawer. "Why?!" Things around me seem to spin and multiply so I take a deep breath. "Relax." I sigh. "What can she find? What can she prove? Nothing. There's no body. Stop worrying." I try to focus on the files but another thought hits me and I turn to look at the door. "But she looked so sad and angry. I hate it when she looks at me that way."

Menacing and weird.

Everything people have said about me seem to ring in my head, making more sense every passing second.

"Please." I say to myself. "Like it matters. Like you stand a chance with her! She knows how you feel about her, and she treats you like dirt." Like dirt. "I don't care. I still love her." I roll my eyes at myself. "Ugh!" I groan. "Listen to yourself! Be a man!" I slam the drawer shut forcefully.

You're an odd man, Mr Nygma.

"You'll do better with that one if she's a little scared of you." I mumble with a smile that falls off my face quickly. "Stop talking like that!" I yell immediately, my heart beating faster.

No riddles.

Formal complaints about you.

"Just keeping it real." I say casually. It's all okay. I look up quickly, a riddle entering my mind. "What's black and white and read all over?" I cover my ears, holding on to my head that feels like it's spinning. "Stop it!"

I wouldn't quit your day job if I were you.

I laugh. I find it it's the best solution after all. It relieves so much more anxiety than yelling at myself. The reality of everything is crashing over me and I let it. I throw my head back as I laugh, I know I've gotten away with it.

You killed a man, Ed. Oswald told me. I think you should come to terms with that.

I chuckle quietly, somehow aware of the fact that I'd consider someone in my condition going through a kind of a breakdown, possibly a psychotic one, and yet blissfully uncaring about all of it. I feel more alive than I have ever before.

He's so weird.

So weird.

AN: Sorry for this short chapter, I felt it necessary anyway.
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