Let's Start Over Again (Nygmobblepot)

• Chapter Six •

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All in your head, it's all in your head.    
Ed hadn't slept in days. Even without the pills the Hallucination showed itself. Sure, not in its usual manner; but it was there. The distortion had worsened and it took on an anger, more abusive personality. Ed feared all hours. The distortion was here, there.. everywhere. He was soggy and decaying. Ed knew he was alive but the Hallucination was still dead. His cold and clammy skin barely hung to the bones. Flesh was missing. Seaweed infested the rotting corpse. Sometimes he tore himself apart for his amusement and Ed's terror. The Riddler shook in his boots at all time and had set up a fortress in the only room left. His room. Oswald's room.
  Shaking in the fluffy comforter, Edward felt his mind working. Migraines filled his dull head. The distorted Hallucination appeared in the room. His sickly sweet voice rang out, "Edward dear~" Ed cringed, lowering himself into the bed. "Oh silly boy~ You know that won't work," the Hallucination giggled. His laugh was no where near to the actual Oswald's rich laugh. This one was light and airy, contrary to Oswald's.
  "please," Ed whispered to the air, "don't do this; I beg of you."
  A hand lunged to his throat, choking what little life hung to Ed. "Begging. Does. Not. Work. Eddie." His body began to move towards Ed. "We both know that."
  The Distortion began to pool river water, blood, sweat, and tears on the bed now that he was leaned directly on it. Ed felt stuck and suffocated. The nonexistent hand on his throat was taking air out of his lungs and liquid dripped on his face. Ed just wanted him gone. Oswald wouldn't have done this to him. Oswald wouldn't do this to him.
  Keyword being Oswald.

  In Ivy's small home, Penguin sat alone in the small (yet efficient) guest room. He was reading a small paperback about anatomy and how to kill men with it. A phone ring struck the quiet room. Oswald slowly looked up, rolling his eyes. He moved forward a bit and grabbed the phone. "Yes?" he answered in short, hassled voice.
  "..Oswald?"
  A soft word. A soft question. A simple ask for a name, an answer, a solution.
  "Ed-Edward, is that you?" Oswald spoke in a softer tone, flabbergasted.
  "yes it is.. can you come to the manor tonight?"
  Penguin looked at the clock it was 8:23. 'A bit late to ask,' he thought. After a few moments of deliberation Oswald slowly spoke, "I'll come over in a bit ok?"
  From the line softly came, "..yes, thank you Oswald."
  "Goodbye Mr. Nygma," sighed Oswald. He put the phone back on the receiver before Edward could speak again. Oswald slowly stood up to prepare himself to leave for Ed's- no, his house.
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