Sixty. Fifty Nine. Fifty Eight. Fifty Seven. Fifty Six. Fifty Four. Fifty Three. Oswald listened as each tick of the clock continually counted down on the hour-long deadline he had provided Lightning man with, just a few hours prior.
A general thrum and whir of anxiety rumbled from his left, the whimpers and shrieks of his captives, growing steadily annoying. Oswald’s lips turned up in a smirk, having spotted the gleaming visage of that faux hero Lightning man standing before him in his nightclub. Everything was going according to plan.
Oswald gestured with his hand, lazily pointing at a hard backed chair as if for Lightning Man to take a seat on the opposite side of the table.
Oswald Knight: “Only ten minutes left on the clock. Almost ran out of time, little hero. Won’t you take a seat, you look positively exhausted, dare I say defeated even hmm?” Oswald taunted, a wicked glee ever present in his eyes.
The wicked look in his eyes soon turned icy, his attitude that of the bird that was his namesake. Naturally Oswald could fake a pleasant demeanour, but only for a short time. As fate would have it, his brash, flighty nature always did present itself eventually. This Oswald knew for an undeniable fact.
Astride the desk lay two glasses, each filled with a rich ice cold liquid, Oswald’s preferred drink sitting there in an overt display of his wealth and love of the finer things in life. His sharp eyes noted the lack of response on Lightning man’s behalf.
Shrugging to himself Oswald began to drink, a smirk twisting upon his lips, a gleam residing in those eyes that were arctic in nature. It was almost like Oswald had become one with the ice, the wintry chill, a tangible concept that appeared to exist wherever he went, playing a part in each and every action he ever took.
Oswald Knight: “Care for a drink Mr Man? Or is it Mr Lightning? So hard to know how to address folks these days is it not? Or perhaps you prefer gender neutral terms hmm? Regardless of what you wish to be called, one question does remain. Why did you come here? Searching for something? Someone? What would drive an example of shining virtue such as yourself to venture into the darkness of the criminal underworld.”
Oswald’s words held a mocking bite, a haughty sense of derision mingling with the amusement at the idea that a hero would venture into his nightclub, with a particular goal in mind. What that goal was, however, remained to be seen.
Oswald Knight: “The Strong silent type hmm? A byronic hero comes to save us all. You are an idealist, a bleeding heart. I can see it in the set of your eyes. The way you fight, the way you portray yourself as a champion of the people. Much like those byronic heroes, you’ll fail in your quest, there is no redemption. None. You’ll figure this out eventually.”
A pause hung in the air, a sound of shimmering crackling ice rose up into the air. Oswald’s eyes seemed to glaze over, becoming one with the chilly atmosphere that he had surrounded himself with.
Oswald Knight: “There’s a war coming, that I can promise you. Blood will run in the streets, the bodies of others will line those self same streets. That is the price paid for interfering in business you have no reason to involve yourself with. Tell me… how far are you willing to go in order to play the role of hero… Are you willing to dirty your hands, to delve deep into the blood and horror?.”
Harsh mocking laughter snapped through the air, Oswald’s expression filled with a malevolent sense of glee, the imagery evoked by his words created a macabre masterpiece that he could envision so very clearly inside his mind. This imagery brought Oswald relief, the idea that a war would be coming, a war that he would be a part of. A war that would shake the foundations of all that was known and accepted.
Deep in his bones Oswald had always known violence on an intimate level, in many ways violence was and is his closest ally. Mental scars often had a longer lasting impact than physical ones. After all, the body could heal, but the mind? The mind never forgets what has happened.
Oswald took a moment to consider the path his life had taken. The darkness with which he had become acquainted so early guiding every move he made.
Oswald Knight: “You know why I hate heroes? Why do I loathe them with every fibre of my being?. Because they perpetrate acts of great deception. They lie and they deceive as though deceit is heroic. Lightning Man you are no different, you lie like breathing. I HATE you for the lies you speak. For the simple ideal that you think yourself honourable. Make no mistake you are no hero”
His tone was laden with anger, a deep seated aggression swirling inside his veins at that very moment.
Oswald coughed once, took a deep breath as though, a gesture to give himself to think, to pause and let his darkening mood switch back to his usual proud and haughty demeanour.
Oswald Knight: “You want something don’t you? You seek something beyond simple in ring competition. The question is what….. Or whom do you seek. Perhaps a name. Driven by your emotions as you are…. What would you offer up for that which you seek? How desperate are you to get that which you pursue.”
His eyes gleamed with a hunger, a hunger that spoke to a deep seated knowledge, knowledge of many things. Of situations in which he’d heard about, holding on to that information until the day it may be of use.
Oswald’s head swung to the left, eyeing the sound system as a song began to play, its words forming a warning, but the question was a warning to whom? To whom were the lyrics intended as a message. Perhaps it was meant for Lightning man, or maybe it was for Oswald himself. The reality was…. It was likely meant to warn Oswald’s foes about the nature of the man known as Mr Penguin.
“Welcome to the war we've only begun, so pick up your weapon and face it there's blood on the crown; go and take it you get one shot to make it out alive, so higher and higher you chase it this is your moment, now is your time, so make 'em remember you; push through hell and rise, rise they will remember you; prove yourself and rise, rise welcome to the climb up, reach for the summit visions pray that one false step lead the end”
Fade to black….