@crimebat hooray mental breakdowns
“I can’t—stop THINKING,” Edward groaned, sounding beyond frustrated as he pinched at the bridge of his nose. Eddie was as much of a mess as the hideout seemed to be and he looked exhausted. Darkened circles under his eyes told of energy drink fueled nights without rest. Tinkering. Plotting. Devising his next crime and the crime after that. Trying to put those compulsions at ease. “My mind REBELS at stagnation.” The man threw his hands in the air before he started pacing back and forth in front of the caped crusader. “I don’t know what I am doing anymore! I have to play my games. I leave you clues. You solve them–Which I both love and want to kill you for–You beat me. So I can’t kill you because you’re the only one at MY LEVEL. I need you.—I end up locked up. OVER AND OVER WE PLAY THIS GAME. An endless circle—How many sides does a circle have? Ha! Two! Inside and outside—NO. STOP. THINKING.” Nigma groaned in frustration as he curled his fingers tightly in his hair.
“You! YOU understand me, right? Darn it! Tell me you do!” Despite his heavy breathing, Nigma didn’t give the vigilante even a second to speak. “I know why you’re here. Yes. The art gallery was me. You found me. Well done. Well done as always. But I need MORE. My mind still won’t quiet.” The Riddler stopped in front of the masked man and pointed a finger at him. “Riddle me this Batman! ‘Behind bars I sit, singing my tune, never to see the light of the sun or the moon. What am I?’” Edward then lunged forward to grab Batman. “TELL ME the–the answer! Get it right! Get it right or what good are you?” The man shook the hero frantically, as if he could shake out the answer.
