Let's Start Over Again (Nygmobblepot)

• Chapter Seven •

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A knock rapped upon the door to the Cobblepot mansion. Oswald stood outside, upset. After all, it was cold out and Ed had asked him here. Another knock.
Why wasn't he answering?
Oswald huffed and annoyed, tried the door. To his surprise, it was open. Rule of thumb for kingpins was lock any door as best you could. 'Something's wrong,' Oswald thought quickly pulling out his gun. He pushed open the door, quickly looking around.
No one. Great, peachy in fact. Oswald swung the door open fully, allowing himself in. A blood curdling scream stopped Oswald in his tracks.
"Ed?!" Oswald yelled. No answer
Oswald rushed in, limping towards the screams. They where gibberish, or at least seemed to be from afar. The house echoed, the noise came from everywhere. Oswald circled the dining room table. He was frightened, it sounded like one long shriek now.
Was someone other than Ed in the house?
Was Oswald even armed? The kingpin checked. No gun, but a pocket knife. Who was he kidding? It was a small straight razor. You could barely shave with it, let alone fight. Spectacular.
Should he try to make a presence known?
Oswald was pacing thinking and didn't notice the screams where becoming spastic. A scream that would last two seconds at most followed by some long ones, up to five minutes. The voice was becoming raspier. The screams where slowing, with a bumbling cut off.
"OSWALD PLEASE HELP ME. OSWALD WHERE ARE YOU?!"
The kingpin looked up and around at the ceiling. Stop being a pussy and find Ed. Oswald huffed and began to limp up the stairs. The horse, now softer, yells still echoed. Reaching the top of the stairs, Oswald was disoriented. "Edward, I'm here where are you?" Oswald looked around.
Peculiar.
The screams stopped.
Oswald quickly became worrisome. He began to raid the first few rooms, looking for any sign of Ed. None.
Leaving the second room, Oswald sighed while turning into the hallway. He immediately straightened.
"Ed?"
There at the end of the hallway was a bloodied Nygma. He looked as though he'd been through hell. His hair was a rats nest. He had dark circles. He was pale. He was profusely sweating. The most notable part with all of that?
He was bleeding.
Each man at the respective end of the hallway made hard eye contact. They were both scared. Both scared of each other, they met each other with wide eyes. Oswald gulped, he could feel that something bad could happen.

And boy was he right.

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