future shenanigans | eddsworld

Prologue, The Red Car.

Something is missing in the house at the end of Durdam lane.

Its neighbours, although resentful, know a blue room inside stays unopened and left as it was months ago. Their cold feelings transform into guilt as they realize The End was merciful with them, and they simply look at the green house with pity.

Inside the house, a blonde man starts to consider be might have made a mistake.

Mark believes they need to move on. He knows they have to. But his housemate, Eduardo, still randomly walks around the house at midnight and curses himself out for being oh so stupid, oh so selfish, and oh such a bad friend.

How could Mark tell him a new roommate is coming?

A red car turns the corner of the street.

He quietly makes his way to Eduardo's bedroom. The door is locked, as it usually is, so he softly knocks three times, hoping that his friend is calm enough for a chat.

The door opens, and they find themselves staring at each other. —I'm not hungry. —says Eduardo, —Go eat without me. —

Mark sighs. —Lunch was two hours ago. This isn't about that. I, uh, have something to tell you. —

The red car stops in front of a blue house, and the driver asks its owner if Mark Hansen lives there. He doesn't.

Eduardo hums, and Mark continues. —I put up an ad a while ago, looking for a new roommate. We need company and I knew you wouldn't agree, so I didn't tell you. —

After a night without sleep, Eduardo is too tired to lash out. He frowns, however, feeling an annoyance creep up his neck as his hands turn into fists. —Why would you ever think that? You and I are enough, we don't need anyone else in here to take up more space. We have enough. Just two, no more. —

—Jon died months ago, Eduardo. —

The red car now stops in front of a yellow house, to the great confusion and fear of its owners. Mark Hansen isn't there, either.

—Months. You don't want to leave the house, you don't want to talk to anyone else, you barely eat and sleep, and you keep blaming yourself. —Mark sounds stern, but in fact, he's worried about his childhood friend. —He killed him, man. You didn't. And he'd want you to start taking care of yourself and opening up again. Even if it means forcing yourself to interact with a new friend. —

Eduardo supports his body on the door's frame, looking at the floor. He knows Jon would want him to move on, and hell, Jon would love it if they got a new roommate. Still, he doesn't want to replace him.

—Why are you saying that? —he questions, —Do you already have someone? Did you actually invite someone inside without telling me? —

Mark slightly smiles, thankful of the hint of acceptance from Eduardo. —Yeah, sorry. They should be arriving soon. —

The red car stops in front of the green house, as the neighbours from the yellow house observe the stranger. Five knocks. Does Mark Hansen live here?

—Yes, you're speaking to him. —he smiles, recognising his new housemate from shared pictures,

The stranger nods, —Ugh, it was time. I'm Alex, it's nice to finally see you in person. —Alex puts her hand out for him to shake. —You should put the house numbers in the entire street. I spent too much time asking the neighbours about you. —

Mark notices that in person she seems too familiar, with her red hoodie matching the car. He points at it, —That your car? —

She hesitates for a second. —Uh, yes. Gift from my brother. There's space in the garage, right? —

—Yeah, we don't have any cars. But I think you should meet my friend before, you know, Eduardo? —

She nods. —Of course. Did you tell him about me? —

As Mark moves to the side, allowing her to come inside, he awkwardly chuckles, —About a minute ago. —

—Did he take it well? —

—He took it. —

This time, they don't need to walk to his bedroom, for he has moved to the kitchen. Eduardo slowly pours some water on a glass, ignoring the steps entering the room.

—Hey. —Mark walks up to him, putting his hand on his back, —This is the new housemate. Alex Laursdottir. Short for Alexandra, right? —

—With K and S, correct. It's a nordic spelling. —

The hint of an accent grabs the attention of Eduardo, who turns around and glances at her red hoodie.

—Is this a joke? —he asks Mark, who cannot understand his reaction, —She literally looks like him, dude, what the fuck? —

—Him? —she asks,

—The man who killed the person you're trynna replace. —