A Sting of Conscience (Eddsworld) ♢ SLOW UPDATES ♢

[2] Vengeance

Tord.

Almost everything about him had changed. His demeanor, stoic expressions, steady glare, way of breathing. Tom noticed it all.

Half of Tord's face was littered with deep cuts that have yet to heal, likely from the crash. His outfit was the same red hoodie, overcoated by a threatening army uniform. His face no longer bore a smug smile, but replaced with a frown and a pair of lonely eyes. His right arm was a crimson, robotic limb. Tord was like a tree - he looked stern and intimidating as he towered over Tom, who shook his head in disbelief.

"No," Tom said. "You're dead..."

"THAT'S WHAT YOU THOUGHT!" Tord snapped, kicking the chair down with full force. Tom heard the chair break as he crashed, his vision blurring in and out of focus.

"THIS," Tord said, pointing to himself. "This is what you've done to me!"

Tom stared up at him from the ground. He didn't know this side of Tord, a vengeful, cruel part of him fueled with intense hatred. It was as if he were a different person, a total stranger. Tom shuddered as the communist's face began to gain a mad disconnection to the world. Then Tord staggered back, as if he realized he stepped off his map.

"How are you still alive?" Tom finally asked.

Tord's glare returned. "You weren't quite the sharpshooter."

"I missed?"

"What else? You made me question the strength of my weaponry. A harpoon - imagine, Tom - a harpoon? Such a thing reduced my complete weapon of destruction to utter garbage that day."

"You asked for it, commie!" Tom yelled. "Don't you see? It was all your fault! You're the one who nearly shot me to death, and you almost killed everyone!"

Tord stood his ground, unamused.

"And you tricked, no, betrayed all of us! Do you realize how this has affected Edd? How this has affected everyone?!" Tom said.

Tord locked his eyes on the floor, hands clenching into fists as he pictured everything. He refrained from lashing out on his prisoner. He wasn't like that anymore. Tom was like a vicious dog with a leash, barking even if it wouldn't work. Tom knew he'd be in deep trouble if he kept fuming, but he just couldn't help it. He wanted to say what was in his head.

"I can't believe you just le-"

"SHUT UP!" Tord drew his pistol and pointed it. "You and your friends were complete idiots! If you thought like them, nobody would've gotten hurt in the first place! But you! You were stupid enough to think!"

Tom couldn't get himself to retort. Not with his life on the line. Tord had the power to take his life, and all it'd take was a pull of a trigger.

"Why did you bring me here?" Tom's voice was a whisper, a dull, ugly croak.

Tord pulled back. His violent demeanor faded once again, but he refused to drop the gun. "You really want to know?"

Tom gulped.

Tord walks to the side of the wide, blinding room. He returns with some sort of remote on his hand.

"I'll give it to you straight," he deadpans and clicks a button. Tom heard its beep echo across the room.

He couldn't move in fear. But it seemed the remote didn't do much of anything.

"First," Tord began. "Two of my soldiers found you wandering alone in the city. They contacted me, asking if they could seize you while they were disguised as cops. It's mostly your fault, in fact, giving us a brilliant opportunity like that. Second: I captured you, because I see you and your friends as obstacles. Potential foes. Potential... well, resistances, that could harm my progress for world domination. I want to admit, I'd prefer to get them out of the way. I mean that in a permanent state."

Tom began to fill himself up with anger, but he discovered the inability to speak. Something was holding him back. Something was controlling him.

Then he realized: he couldn't move.

Tord pushed another button. Tom's eyes widened as he felt something prickle the skin of his neck, until it grew uncomfortably stronger. The pain surged through his bloodstream. He convulsed, but couldn't even scream in his state.

"You're going to do all of that dirty work for me," Tord said. "But the process of this task is a bit grueling, so try to cooperate with me 'til the end."

Before Tom faded into the void of unconsciousness, he heard a voice say:

"I'll make you all suffer."

* * * * *

It was dark. Raining. Tom could not move on his own will as he opened Edd's front door. He was merely a puppet, and Tord pulled on his strings.

He couldn't remember how he got here. He woke up and found himself walking lifelessly on the street while he was out. He didn't know how he was being controlled, but he was sure that didn't require consciousness. His body was cold, shaking. His neck felt itchy, but he continued walking like nothing else mattered.

Tom's drenched body approached the kitchen, leaving a trail of mud and water beneath his squishy shoes. He grabbed the handle of the nearest knife and lifted, his finger touching the tip of the blade.

"Dull," Tord's voice buzzed through a tiny earpiece. He released a heavy sigh. "Oh, well. This'll do. Dull knives still pierce, just not swift enough."

Tom's hand spun the knife, as if he had the skill.

Tord chuckled. "Now that I think about it, that would be satisfying, considering you all deserve a slow, painful death after everything that's happened."

Tom seethed. He wanted to cut the invisible strings with this knife and free himself from control. But he couldn't even try. He couldn't even speak out. The commands were difficult to disobey.

"And now for the main event," Tord said, remotely dragging his puppet around the house. Before long, Tom found himself facing the door to Edd's room, with a knife clutched tightly in one hand.

Tom felt his heart sink.

Time was slow as the door was pushed open. The light touching Edd's musty carpet spilled across the room. Instead of sobbing in his bed, Edd was at peace, sound asleep. This was rare and most of the time, relieving. But that time isn't today. His friend was in dreamland for once, in a state of tranquility. Unguarded. Unconscious.

Tom's feet stepped forward. As much as he wanted to sprint out of the room, Tord bent his will and ordered him to stay.

"Stop," Tom thought to himself, hoping Tord could hear.

Nothing happened.

Tom's hands gripped the knife over his head, preparing to tear through flesh. Through Edd's frail body.

"Goodbye," Tord said. "Old friend."

For the first time in his life, Tom felt suspended in time.

° ° °

Agh, I honestly don't know what to write next? I have writer's block. Thanks for reading, by the way!

Please do comment your thoughts and suggestions! It would be 100% cool for me to hear them!