"You don't really talk that much." Tom told the spirit, as they walked the changing streets.
No response, as usual, for the spirit of his Christmas Future was silent, hooded in the same color of his hoodie, slightly taller than he was, and had cold glowing eyes that peered from the hood. It bothered Tom as the only sound that came from it were sounds of chains.
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The spirit stopped Tom at a scene of an accident with cars, hover cars, for after all, this was the future. (Let's hope the future is actually cool as they say it would.)
The scene was quite bloody, as if anyone involved had passed (well, died) because of it.
Then Tom saw a familiar object in this indescribable scene, but before he could make it out, he was pulled away by the spirit.
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"Matt, stop it. Matt!"
The two now found Matt and Tord in a room, gloomy as hell, as if no life was left in it.
Matt couldn't stop crying. He couldn't. Gripping pain consumed him.
Tord was there, hinting that he returns in the future or maybe visited, comforting Matt, holding back his own tears, tears he has always been ashamed to show.
"If you're still not accepting the fact he's dead-"
"I DO!"
"T-then stop!"
Matt stomped. "I CAN'T!" Then he rubbed off his tears.
Then Matt got up. "I'll just do what needs to be done."
When Matt left, Tord couldn't keep the act.
He broke down silently.
"I hope you're happy, now that we're no longer together!" He said to the ceiling.
He sobbed in his speech. "I-I hope y-you are!"
Tom turned to the spirit. "Who is he referring to?"
No response.
"I-I'm sorry,"
Tom turned back to Future Tord. (This is the future, remember?)
"I'm so sorry about those days, t-those days, those days where we never got along..."
He sighed, rubbing off his tears, then softly said something in Norwegian, soft that Tom didn't realize he said something.
Then the spirit pulled Tom elsewhere.
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Paul was down on his desk, doodling, like a typical artist would.
He was drawing something that related to how he was feeling.
Then when he finished, he didn't seem so happy with it, so he crumpled it and threw it into the trashcan, already filled with more crumpled paper.
He slouched in his chair, his futuristic chair, groaning as he banged his hands on the table.
He grabbed his mug and sipped a little coffee. After all, that always calmed his system.
"Incoming Call"
YOU ARE READING
Eddsworld's Another Christmas Carol
FanfictionTom has changed. He's become colder by the minute since Edd's death and it's ruining his relationship with his friends. As Christmas comes, his deadly fate changes as Edd comes back to him to save Tom and himself, to prove his strong friendship with...
