A Sting of Conscience (Eddsworld) ♢ SLOW UPDATES ♢

[3] The Aftermath

The thunder rumbled in the distance. Raindrops pattered against the window. The knife caught a glint of light in the darkness as Tom watched Edd, who breathed softly like the sea at rest.

Tom was frozen, petrified inside. He stood unmoving for what it seemed like an eternity. It wasn't too long until he started to shake. His heart raced faster than ever, he could've sworn he'd die right where he was.

"Damn it," Tord's voice said.

Tom felt his grip on the knife grow tighter. His hands began to hurt as he neared the blade onto Edd's unguarded flesh. He tried hard to will it away, but he couldn't. Tord was in charge of him. Tord was the master here.

But even the master himself couldn't kill right then and there.

"DAMN IT!" Tord yelled, shoving and breaking objects in the other line out of frustration.

Tom sank to his knees, releasing short, rapid breaths. His vision became blurry and he swayed, attempting to balance himself in this sudden nausea. He felt his brain and body reconnect. His self-control returned like a shore wave.

It took him a while to realize that Tord was wheezing on the other line, same as him. Was he released? By accident?

Tom took the chance. He scrambled up and sprinted out of Edd's apartment, throwing the knife on the floor faster than the wind. As he ran, his neck started to feel itchy.

He entered his room and slammed himself in, leaning his back against the door. His hand shot to his neck and scratched, grazing a small, round object attached to his skin. Tom ripped it off in panic and his blood ran in rivulets, dotting the carpet below him. Pain stung his neck as he pressed the wound.

"No, no, no, no," Tord sputtered through the earpiece. Tom could hear him tap on buttons rapidly. "The controls stopped working. Why aren't they working?"

Tord kept babbling words in a foreign language. Tom glared down at his palm. The round object had a needle and a device attached to it, like it was some sort of pin. Was this the one controlling him all this time?

"You're stupid," Tom huffed. "Killing people who once treated you as a friend wouldn't help you. Not one bit."

Tord stopped. As if he heard it.

Tom grimaced as his body slid down the door. He sat without energy on the ground, still pressing onto his wound. He took a deep breath.

He had almost killed his friend. It was a shame. He wished he could care more, but he felt so apathetic and nauseous that he just wanted to sleep. The dizziness was about to heave him into the void of slumber.

"Listen, commie." Tom said. "You don't deserve friends. I hate you, and hell, I know everyone else will for as long as... you stay on... the surface of this... planet."

Tord said nothing.

Tom slumped forward and his hands dropped to his sides. Slowly, he drifted off to unconsciousness.

* * * * *

7:00 in the morning.

Matt stretched his arms, savoring the shine of dawn. The air was brewed into a magical medley of earthiness and he breathed it in without a second thought. The world smelled different after a rain. It reminded him of the old days.

He looked in the mirror, winking at his own reflection before heading off to get breakfast. Edd scuffed into the kitchen a few minutes later, his hair as messy as tropical grass. He sat in front of the bowl of cereal Matt had prepared for them, glancing around.

"Where's Tom?" Edd asked.

Matt shrugged, more interested in gobbling down his meal.

"Dunno."

Edd propped his chin on one hand. He stared at his bowl of cereal for minutes on end and couldn't help but worry. The last time Tom didn't come home was when he broke his arm in a bike accident.

Edd stood up. It's just not the same eating breakfast without him.

"Awww. We're out of cereal, Edd! Should we go buy some more?" Matt asked, but he found himself alone in the kitchen.

Edd lumbered towards Tom's apartment, recognizing the nostalgic smell of soil after the rain. He remembered when he and his friends were all together, jumping and splashing on the puddles as if they were children. But now, one of them was gone. Dead. Killed. He shook off the thought before knocking on Tom's door.

"Tom?" he called. "Are you home? Tom?"

No answer.

He twisted the doorknob. It was unlocked, but something was behind, blocking it. Edd took no second thought and shoved the door just to open it. It opened, just a bit, revealing a portion of Tom's living room.

"Ow." Someone inside mumbled.

"Tom? Is that you? Are you there?" Edd said.

"I am, yeah," the voice said.

Edd sighed in relief, opening the door as Tom removed himself out of the way. Edd stomped in to try and scold his friend, but to his surprise, he found him covered in a huge amount of dried blood.

"What happened?!" Edd screamed.

"Edd, calm down." Tom said, shaking. "We've got to get out of here."

* * * * *

Tord raged, breaking every object he laid eyes upon in his office. He tried everything he could, but there was nothing he could do to regain control of his nemesis. He contemplated. After his feet grew tired of pacing back and forth, he plopped down on his chair and sighed. He gripped the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

He didn't want to think about this recent failure. He didn't want to think about Tom, nor the consequences of releasing him. But it was hard not to contemplate. The anger finally gave way, and Tord slowly reeled back in his chair.

"I was so close," he whispered. He raised his chin and stared at the ceiling, as if he was suddenly lost. "Why couldn't I do it?"

He turned his head to the side and stared out of a window. The rain had stopped this morning. His mind remembered Edd, Tom and Matt splashing puddles, kicking water onto each other's faces after a rainy day. Matt pushed Edd all over the place. Tom refused to respond to Edd's puns. Edd laughed along with Tord.

With this, Tord's face fell in his hands. He already knew the answer.

"I'm such an idiot," he mumbled. He recalled what Tom had said earlier.

"You don't deserve friends."

Tord rose, getting an urge to rob a store to vent his feelings. He didn't want to remember. He wanted to calm down and figure something out.

He strode towards the changing room. He stripped his clothes off and slipped into a simple white hoodie, dark jeans and his old black and white shoes to avoid being conspicuous.

He walked across the room and leaned onto a large safe. He scrolled the numbers and it opened with a clack. He stared the flask containing his recently invented shrinking serum. It was especially designed for stealing. Tord reminded himself that a drop of the serum, he'll be able to pocket anything interesting he'd find in the store. He placed the flask in his satchel.

This'll be quick, he thought as he snuck out of their base. Who has the money to buy, anyway?

° ° °

Update! Whoo! This chappie took a while, sorry about that!

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