Birds of a Feather (Oswald Cobblepot)

Dreams In Darkness

   I stand in darkness. There seems to be a light shining under me but, I can barely see in front of me and...and I can't move. I try as hard as I can, but my muscles remain motionless. I can only stare forward as I see a figure in the distance, illuminated by an overcasting yellow light. Its features are hidden by shadows, but it looks like a man with his hands in his pockets. He steps out of the shadows to reveal he’s Oswald, dressed in a long overcoat, dress shirt, and bowtie. The dark circles under his eyes as well as his sinister grin are emphasized by the dim lighting. My first thought is that he’s going to attack me, try to kill me. I’d prepare myself for a fight, but my body is frozen in place.

He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out something small, something I can’t quite see. He slowly starts pacing toward me, the small object held out in front of him. As he approaches ever closer, I realize the object in his pale hand is his mother’s wedding ring. No...no no no no no.

He passes the light and into the darkness, although I can still the faintest contours of his body. He brings the ring up to his face, and the deafening sounds of ripping flesh can be heard from him. I want to scream, I panic, looking for any route of escape, and I realize I can suddenly move my head around. I look to my sides and realize why I can’t move, my wrists are shackled and I’m strung up on chains. The grey metal chains lifting me off of the ground seem to connect to nothing, trailing off into the darkness, soundlessly swaying back and forth.

Oswald reappears into the light, mere feet away from me. His eyes are gone, replaced only by empty, bloody sockets that seem to stare into eternity. I start hyperventilating as tears are pushed to the brim of my eyelids. He holds up the ring, which is covered in blood along with his hands. There’s a wide smile stretched across his face, and his breathing is heavy, visible from his chest. I lower my head, both in shame and in fear of his gaze. He lowers my left arm, the chain making a metallic clinking noise as more chain is revealed. Holding my hand, he slides the ring onto my left ring finger, and I sob as the cold metal and blood fall to my knuckle, the blood slipping further down my arm.

He lifts my chin so that I’m forced to face him. His sickening smile resembles that of a cheshire cat, and his long, dirty, monstrous teeth are coated in blood. He leans in, close enough so that his warm breath grazes my neck,

“My dear Trixie, remember, love is blind.” he whispers before closing the space between us and kissing me on the neck.

   I’m jolted awake by a pounding on the door. I look around, and move my hands, waving them in front of me, making sure I can move again. And no ring...thank god no ring.

I look outside and see it’s morning, the majority of sunlight hidden by a combination of clouds and urban smog.

I stumble out of bed to answer the door, and fling the door open to reveal a very frazzled Mrs. Cobblepot,

“Where is my son?! He did not come home last night...he never stays out this late...is he with you?!” she peers over my shoulder and into my room accusingly.

I rub my eyes, still adjusting to the light, “No, Mrs. Kabelput, your son didn’t come home with me last night.”

“Then where is he?!” she beckons.

“He’s-” I stop myself. Yes, this woman has been a thorn in my side for the duration of our acquaintance, but, do I really have the right to be the one to tell her that Oswald’s dead?

“He’s off...with...with another woman.” I conclude rather shakily.

She gasps, “No! Tell me, who is this girl?”

“I, I do not know her well,” I shift my eyes around, trying to make up a story, “she was blond...with fair skin...very tall, and lots of makeup.”

Mrs. Cobblepot gasps, “I knew this would happen...if not with you then with some other woman!” she crosses the hallway, “Oh, my son, gone into the hands of a venomous snake!”

“Hey lady, would you shut up?!” the man next door shouts from his doorway before slamming it shut.

I cautiously approach Mrs. Cobblepot. She’s just lost his son, and while it’s no place to be the one to tell her, that doesn’t mean I can’t show some pity,

“Mrs. Kabelput, if it’s any condolence, I think your son wa-...is a wonderful man.”

She stops in her tracks, “Yo, you do?”

I nod, “Yes. He offered me a helping hand before I even realized I needed one,” I scoff at myself, “I was alone in this city before he...literally, stumbled into my life.”

She relaxes slightly, and smiles, “Yes, I did raise him, you know,” she sighs, “you know, it does get lonely in the house without Oswald around. Perhaps you’d like to join me for some breakfast?”

I hesitate, but my guilt overpowers me, “I’d like that.”

   Oswald stumbles down the grassy road, just having passed a sign stating “Gotham City 9 Miles”. Having just survived faking his death and being swept to the other side of the river, he’s incredibly disheveled, from his clothes to his hair. He needs to hitch a ride if he’s ever going to get home. There’s a sharp, constant pain in his left foot where Fish stabbed him. He groans as he realizes that this may be permanent. It sure makes travel a pain. When he gets back, he’s gonna get back at all of them, Fish, Gilzean, Trixie…

Trixie, that was what he’d least expected, of all the people to betray him. He thought they had something, a mutual agreement. Sure he’d overstepped his bounds a bit when he’d tried to have his way with her, but he thought she’d forgiven him for that. Guess she doesn’t forgive as easily as he’d thought.

But...getting dumped into the Gotham Bay, being left for dead and then killing that poor...defenseless fisherman, all of this has given him a new perspective. He was patient, courteous, and gentlemanly to her, and what did that get him? A cold goodbye and a trip down the river, is what. If he wants something, he should just take it, like how he took the sandwich from that old fisherman. Chewing the last bits of it in his mouth, he tastes the familiar flavor of government supplied tuna. It seems like more and more people have to apply for government rations every day.

He looks out to the other side of the bay, the dark skyscrapers of Gotham City looming over him. He’d always been entranced by Gotham’s towering high-rises, how they seemed to rise above everything else. These buildings, he’d be like one of them, ascending above all others for the rest of them to look up to, to answer to. With Trixie’s betrayal, he’ll have to rearrange his plans considerably, and his promise to Falcone complicates things even further. Complicated as they are, his goals are far from impossible, his only concern is whether or not there’s still room in his plot for Trixie...should he forgive her for betraying him? He wants to kill her, then again, he wants to do a lot of things to her. The best thing would be to simply kill her, she knows too much. But...she’d still make a wonderful ally, if only he could get her to see things as he did. And if she couldn’t...well, he’ll just have to kill her, won’t he?