Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve


Martha kept her eyes on Bugsy as they walked further towards the dark doorway just at the other end of the corn stalk hallway. She held the blade out, ready for an attack from him.

Bugsy walked with his usual strut, pulling up the baggy pants and tightening his belt. His lower jaw protruded out with frustration as he buttoned up the leather jacket that held a blood stained cut on the back. "Well, cousin, since Dicky boy hasn't lost enough weight to wear my clothes, I might have to go around naked tonight." He gave a chuckle.

"Stop calling me that, I am not your cousin." Martha declared, glancing quickly over her shoulder.

"Oh, don't be that way, Martha sweet. You and I have the same blood line." Bugsy joked. "You just inherited the insane portion of our family."

Martha scoffed. "I am not the crazy one, you are."

"Insanity is a gift, cousin, you of all people should know that. Embrace it." He smiled.

"I told you to stop calling me cousin!" Martha snarled.

Bugsy laughed as he stopped at the doorway. His skinny face glanced over his shoulder. "Make me." His voice cracked with a whisper.

Martha curled her upper lip. "Keep moving."

Bugsy lifted up both hands and walked into the darkness, disappearing into the abyss. "I am unarmed, but she isn't. Kill her." He joked.

Martha stopped just at the enterance. "Find a light source."

"I've got an idea, I have a lighter, perhaps I could light you on fire and send you into the room." He chuckled with a sinster cackle.

The room on the other side of the doorway lit up with a blinding white light. The room was painted a solid white and in the center of the room was a hallway made of glass mirrors.

Martha stepped in and turned to her right to see Bugsy puffing on a lit cigarette. His blood soaked fingers wrapped around the cigarette as he pulled it away to blow out smoke.

"What do you think you are doing to Richard's lungs?" Martha demanded with a mother like voice.

Bugsy laughed. "They are my lungs now, Richard's lungs are fine." He lazed his eye lids. "For a person of science, you really do not understand our anatomy." He smacked his lips and drew up the cigarette to his lips again.

Martha shook her head. She started to walk into the hallway of mirrors and saw a large blood trail leading down the hallway's white floor. At the other end of the hallway stood her reflection, blade in one hand and a fearful look on her face.

"From the look of things, I assume a maze of mirrors stands before us." Bugsy said, walking up to Martha.

Martha darted towards him, pointing her weapon at him. "Don't move."

Bugsy smirked as he blew smoke out of his nostrils. "Look ... I thought we went over this, I don't want to kill you know. Piss me off just enough, then we will talk."

"For a chronic liar, tell me, how can I believe you?" Martha asked with a sarcastic glare.

Bugsy rolled his eyes and tossed his cigarette to the side. "Fine." He popped his neck. "Even though I hate it, I'll let you trust the other brother." He held out his arms and smiled with an evil glare to his black eyes. "Hug me."

Martha scoffed at him. "Are you serious?"

Bugsy shrugged. "Over some days, Dicky boy and I have been experimenting on our ticks for transformation. If he is threatened, then I take the driver's seat. If I feel ... And I get sick by saying it ... Remorseful or caring, he strides in with a happy go lucky attitude. Other than that, Richard calls the shots."

Martha scoffed again and shook her head. "You are lying. I've seen you appear even without Richard calling for you."

Bugsy nodded. "Richard has to sleep sometime. Now hug me and talk to boy scout, or let me take the lead of this bloody dance."

Martha shook her head. "No chance in hell. Go." She pointed the knife to the hallway.

Bugsy shrugged and let his arms fall to his sides. "Suit yourself, I don't give a damn anyways. I just go with the flow." He twisted and started to strut down the hallway, like a lizard with a bobbing head.

Martha followed him carefully, watching him.

The two moved down the hallway, glancing at themselves walking on either side of them. As they followed the maze of mirrors to the left, the number of mirrors grew to where mirrors sat on the ceiling and at the floor. Bugsy walked with one hand out in front of him; whenever his hand smacked into a mirror in front of him, he would follow the mirror into the area he should go. Martha followed close behind him. At some point, Bugsy stopped, darted his eyes left and right with his arm outstretched. A smile grew on his face and he darted to the left!

Martha stepped forward, looking for the missing Bugsy. "Where did you go?! Bugsy?!" She turned down a hallway of mirrors on the right and watched herself scramble to find her insane guide. "Bugsy!" She called out in a loud whisper. "This isn't funny."

Martha continued to stumble through the maze, following hallways and smacking into mirror coated walls. Finally, she caught the sight of Bugsy's frame running down another hallway. With knife out, Martha gave chase.

She stopped in the middle of the hallway and saw Bugsy standing in front of her. He ran his bony fingers through his straight black hair.

"I love this place ... Everywhere around me I see a handsome devil." Bugsy snickered.

Martha stomped up to him. "I will relish the day I finally kill you." As she neared the man, Martha's face smacked right into a mirror. She stumbled backwards and rubbed her nose.

The reflection of Bugsy cackled, turned and ran off.

Martha groaned. "I swear to God, I hate you."

"You have to swear for that?" Bugsy's disembodied voice echoed through the mirrored hallway.

Martha held out her hand and walked carefully but quickly through the hallways. "You are a virus from Wilmore, Richard's father. That bastard created you in a test tube."

"You are right about one thing, dear old Daddy was nothing but a bastard. In Richard's words, a sexual deviant. But, virus? Really Martha, I thought a person with your I.Q could come up with a better vocabulary for someone like me." Bugsy's voice seemed to follow behind her.

Martha glanced behind her and shook her head. "Oh trust me, I can think of a few."

"Show me the true color to your words, dear cousin, tell me what you think of me."

"Beside the obvious, I think you are the scum on the bottom of Satan's shoes." Martha snarled.

"Nice, I love that one."

"You are nothing but a blemish to Richard's DNA, a tumor that has to be removed." Martha growled following a wall of mirrors.

"Blemish and tumor are two different things. One is harmful and the other is dangerous. In my opinion, Richard is the blemish to my DNA and I am his tumor. Yet, we seem to work together rather nicely."

"You dare have an opinion of Richard. He is far your better." Martha hissed, stopping to wipe some strainds of hair from her face.

"You seem to be comparing us a lot. Dicky boy and I don't really care for comparisons. He is the good guy and I am ... Well, I am the fun one."

"Fun?!" Martha exclaimed, bumping into another wall with her hand. "Killing innocent people is fun?!"

Bugsy's voice roared with laughter. "To me it is, but to insane people like yourself, it is the last line of defense made in tears and P.T.S.D afterwards."

"Richard would never kill. He is the ideal in kindness, almost perfection." Martha said.

"You should hear what he says about you, dear cousin. You think you know everything about Richard, but he shares his secrets to me."

"Like what?" Martha asked with a curl to her upper lip.

"Like how you look at Zachary Taylor. He worries about you and Zachary, Martha." Bugsy's voice seemed to get deeper, almost demonic.

Martha shook the chill from her spine. "Richard is only assuming what I see in Zachary. Speaking of Zachary, if he were here, you wouldn't be."

"That is because I know the true nature to Count Mary Poppins. I see it in his red eyes. You might think of him as a charmer, but the man either has too many demons from the past, or is the demon in past men. I respect his power and know where I stand."

"Tell me, are you speaking your mind to Richard? Are you feeding him these lies?" Martha asked.

"Only the ones that he chooses to listen to. Funny how both of us are on the same ... Mind link."

Martha scoffed. "Funny how you never go away. Why don't you go back to the dark abyss in Richard's mind and leave him be. He has a life, a love and a family. Why don't you bugger off and leave him alone."

"You know something, why do you assume that I am harming Dicky boy's life? Has he complained about me? Have you given the thought that maybe Richard grows tired of hearing you bitch at him? Did you even think that maybe he wants to just let go to let me fight his battles for him? You see, when he is out and about, I wake up feeling like I did something good. When I am out and about, he wakes up feeling refreshed, like he just let loose on the entire world. Imagine the feeling we get when we let the other take control. Imagine the constant fear and worry melt away while someone else takes care of the situation. Maybe Richard likes that?"

Martha turned a mirrored corner and ran into the thin frame of Bugsy! His long skinny arms reached out and grabbed her. He grabbed her knife weilding hand and twisted it just enough for her to drop the weapon. With great strength, Bugsy turned Martha around and held her close to him. He wrapped his bar like arm around her neck tightly. With a smile, Bugsy leaned into the frightened woman's right ear.

"Maybe, Richard likes it when I take control?" Bugsy's voice was sinister and filled with horrible intentions.

Martha closed her eyes tightly. "Just get it over with, you evil bastard."

Bugsy cackled and nodded to a mirror in front of them. "Look."

Martha slowly opened her eyes and stared into the reflection of her in the grasp of Richard standing behind her. His eyes looked into the mirror in confusion and fear.

"Martha?" Richard asked as he slipped his arm away from her, releasing her. He quickly searched his jacket pockets and pulled out a pair of glasses from the right inside pocket. "He told me he wouldn't harm you. I'm glad he didn't." He said in a calm voice.

Martha's face filled with emotion as she wrapped her arms around him. "Richard! Thank God!"

Richard hugged his cousin. "I guess Bugsy thought it would be better if we spoke."

Martha pushed herself away and exmained the blood stained tear on his back. As she forced Richard to turn around for the exmaination, Martha discovered just clean skin behind the tear, as though there was never a wound.

Richard twisted back around and adjusted his belt. "What are you doing?"

"You were stabbed! I saw it. I mean, I knew you had quick healing, but I have never seen you heal that fast." Martha exclaimed in amazement.

Richard loosened his belt and placed it where he had it before his change. "That ... Bugsy said that whatever we go through before a transformation, we loose when we transform from one to the other ... Like when he is drunk and passes out, I don't feel the effects when I come to."

Martha looked at him in confusion. "Like being born all over again?"

Richard shrugged. "Bugsy is the one with the brains ... I just have the heart ... His words by the way."

Martha looked at him in shock. "I guess we haven't let Bugsy out enough to study the transformations, but it doesn't matter now."

Richard nodded and glanced around the mirrored area. "The last thing I remember was ... I was stabbed and ..." He glanced down the hall to the left. "You were taken by a giant bird and ... Chloe was taken by that Scarecrow man." He adjusted his glasses. "I guess you two have been making head way while I was out."

Martha darted over to the knife. She bent down and grabbed the handle. "We have to find Chloe, assuming she is still alive, and get you back to the lab for more Prantex."

Richard held up a finger. "But ... Bugsy did ..." He was interuppted by Martha's might grip on his wrist and was pulled down a new hallway of mirrors.

"We don't have time to wait around." Martha said, with a determined glare in her eyes.