parasite // eddsworld tomtord

chapter one - shithole

Disclaimer: I wrote this story a very long time ago, I can't stand it now. The characterization is god awful, and the way I wrote the abusive sections seems insensitive. Fair warning - just know I don't condone anything in here, and neither do I like it.

He absolutely sucks the life out of me.

Never in my life have I held so much disdain inside of me for a single person. A day doesn't pass when I don't fantasize about completely tearing that Norwegian to shreds. Every fiber of my being absolutely screams with a hatred so intense, the majority of the time I cannot contain my absolute burning anger for Tord. Yes, Tord, him and his sickeningly sweet accent - Tord and his smooth, charismatic way of manipulating all in his path. God, I hate him.

It's the little things that really mess with me. The little smug grin he gives me when he knows that he's getting to me - especially when he's gotten Edd to favor him over myself. He's aware that I crave the attention of the brit that has been my best friend for years, and - he knows he can take advantage of his own natural charisma. Edd's fallen for his scheme so easily and so quick - to be quite honest, I'm disappointed with him.

I can't see how those two don't see how absolutely despicable Tord is - everything he does sends me into a fit of rage, fortunately, most of which are internal. His malevolence isn't even subtle - he wears his sadistic nature like a badge, proud of the trait that makes him so absolutely repulsing.

Somehow, though, my friends manage to be oblivious to his violent tendencies. This is most likely due to his ability to wrap anyone around his finger, manipulate them like Play-Doh in the hands of a child. A simple smile and a seemingly sincere apology manage to make my friends forgive that fact that he has made countless mistakes - in fact, the Norski hasn't ever done a single thing to benefit any of us. Especially not me.

"What the hell are you doing up so late?"

God fucking damn it. Oh well - speak of the devil and he shall come, right? I raised my head, which had been set on my arms. I groaned at the sight of the communist that I hated so much, reaching for the bottle of Smirnoff set beside me. "Expirensing death," I muttered, my voice groggy and hoarse.

"Oh," He snickered, causing me to feel almost sick. God, even the sound of his laugh made me feel like I was going to vomit. "You have fun with that, Jehovah's Witness." With a yawn, the Norski stepped past me, opening the fridge and rummaging around inside.

I looked aside, clenching my fist around the neck of the vodka bottle. "I won't." I hissed out, glaring in the opposite direction. With a tilt of the bottle, cold glass met my lips, and I gulped down the familiar taste of Sharpie marker. I'd gotten used to the strength of vodka - the burning sensation slithering down my throat had become a sort of comfort to me.

"Good," He responded simply, and I could hear the frustration in his tone. I'm sure Tord is getting tired of me being a little shit all the time - perfect. Serves him right for being so annoying himself.

I observed him cautiously out of my peripheral vision, watching as he closed the fridge door, instead opting to pull the freezer open. His milky pale hands retrieved a carton of ice cream.

I scoffed. "Ice cream? It's, like - midnight,"

He looked over at me, raising an eyebrow and glancing at the bottle of Smirnoff. "Yeah, and... I'm way worse than the guy getting wasted by himself at midnight. Yep." With a roll of his eyes, he grabbed a spoon from a drawer, pulling the top off the ice cream.

"Oh, shut up, commie," I hissed out, giving the man I so despised a harsh stare. "At least I'm not some hentai addicted, sadistic pervert,"

"At least I'm not an alcoholic drama queen,"

I slammed my hands on the table, standing up and stepping over to the man. He seemed unfazed by the movement - only scooping a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. "What?" His speech was muffled as he spoke with his mouth full, then swallowing and grinning evilly. "Did I strike a nerve, Thomas?"

"What the hell do you want from me? Why are you always such an ass to me?" I asked, squinting at him as my voice got a bit more hushed.

He set the ice cream aside, on the counter behind him. With a soft sigh, he spoke up, his voice as smooth as melted butter, "You literally act like a 14-year-old girl." He looked aside, maintaining his casual demeanor. "I guess I just like to watch you squirm. It's so easy to make you throw a fit..." He looked me up and down, gesturing to me. "Exhibit A."

I grit my teeth, wanting to just - punch him right now. "I fucking hate you. I wish you were dead."

"Feeling's mutual." He uttered, staring straight into my eye sockets with the smuggest grin I'd ever seen.

I emitted a low growl, clenching my fists - my fingernails dug into the palms of my hands, causing blood to bead up. I didn't resist the urge any longer, pushing the taller male back against the counter, bringing a fist back and slamming it into his face.

With a small noise of shock, Tord finally reacted to one of my actions. He flinched, bringing a hand up to his face as he hissed out in pain. A tinge of fear shot through me as he glared at me through bony fingers - after all, it was obvious that Tord was quite a bit stronger than me. I was thin and frail. I let go of him, taking a step back and putting my hands up.

"You can't say you didn't deserve that, commie," I choked out, trying not to sound scared of him, "Now for the love of god just, leave me alone,"

"You think you can pull something like that.... and get away unscathed?" He lowered the hand, squinting at me as he stepped closer. A flash of red from below his nose hit my vision, a shining pearl of blood dripping from his top lip to the tiled floor. In response to his movement, I continued to take slow steps backward. "Hah, yeah right,"

I could feel my breathing quicken as my lower back met the kitchen table. "Don't. Edd will find out."

"You started this. He'll get mad at you."

I took in a shaky breath of air, knowing Tord was right. The Norski always found a way to get Edd on his side, and plus - I had started this, hadn't I?

He abruptly reached forwards, grabbing the front of my baggy t-shirt and slamming me down against the table. I yelped, squirming to try and free myself from his grasp. "Let me go!!" I yelled, and he smacked his hand over my mouth to quiet me.

"Listen here, Thomas," He muttered, his voice hushed but stern nonetheless, "I'm gonna let you off with a warning, but, I want you to know that from now on, if you keep being dramatic and making problems for me, things are going to get a lot worse for you." A deep scowl tugged at the corners of the man's slightly chapped lips. "Edd and Matt absolutely love me, and hell, they'd probably kick you out before me if it came down to it. I suggest you try acting like a decent fucking person before that happens. Everyone's sick of you." He leaned down a bit so our faces were close, and I swallowed audibly, squeezing my eyes shut. "You can keep being jealous if you want, but eventually, you're gonna have to face it - They love me. And you are my bitch."

Those words repeated over and over like music from a broken record in my mind. A rage boiled inside of me as the Norwegian let me go, and instead of trying to do something to stand up for myself, I scurried off like a coward. He snickered as I fled, and once I had made it to my room, I slammed the door behind me. That would probably wake the others up, huh?

Oh well. At this point, I don't really care.

I flung myself onto my bed, arms outstretched. My face buried in a pillow, I let out a long, muffled sigh - my body shaking with fear and rage at the same time.

I hate him so fucking much.

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art is mine! please credit me if you use it!! i'm @mayab.art on instagram :))