// last chapter !!!! aaaAAAAAA wooo enjoy yall \\
## FINAL CHAPTER
*tom pov*The day Edd was found dead, throat ripped out in a graphic display of dried and drying blood, was the day I decided to make things up to him.
A sweet sounding policewoman with an accent I couldn't discern urged me into her car, which smelled strongly of perfume, and drove us off to the docks. She informed me that I was not, in fact, being taken to a police station, and that she couldn't say; said that I should make sense of it myself when I got there.
Her keen eyes glanced at street signs, and her phone's little voice directed her through the town as she drove at a painful seven miles below the speed limit.
"New here?" I asked as she missed a turn that would make the ride shorter, but was generally inconsequential.
"Oh- yes," She replied.
Something was off, and I already knew it had something to do with Edd. The way he had been behaving for the past weeks or so were anything but his usual funny, flirty, nature. So, I had the first part down, but what specifically did he do? Set fire to the docks? Kill someone? Discover Tord's corpse?
The woman's knuckles whitened as she responded, which triggered a pang of a anxiety in my gut; what if it was something else?
"I've been here for about a month or so," She continued, her accent obvious in her voice, "Eet's a leetle confusing, but I think I'm starting to get eet."
The casualness of her words threw me off, but I was thankful for something to focus on.
"Yeah, it takes some time to get used to. My boyfriend and I couldn't find our own house when we first moved," I said with a half smirk, seeing the memory in my mind.
We had been to the house before, yes, but the second time getting there was incoherently stressful. We circled the neighborhood over and over, searching for the address. Turns out, we had turned right on the wrong street, and it took well over an hour for us to even realize.
"What's your boyfriend's name?" She asked.
"His name's Edd," I replied, "We own a restaurant right by the coast."
The woman paled, and her eyes widened as she gripped the wheel like a life line. My stomach twisted in response, sending butterflies fluttering up into my chest.
"What's wrong?" My voice turned worried. She just shook her head, we were at the docks, now, anyway.
I opened the door to the car, and swung my leg out and onto the sand. The air was crisp, but the ground was hard against my foot. I pulled myself out completely, and into the ocean breeze.
The woman let me to the docks, where sand turned to wood that creaked softly under our weight. Police tape took my attention in the distance, and inside it were several officers, all hovering over a single old, rickety, boat. My pace quickened subconsciously towards it, and the woman trailed behind. Soon, I was basically jogging, and made it to the scene.
"What is it? What happened?" My voice had gone from worried to desperate. They officers turned, all wearing a pained expression. The knot in my stomach tightened, and they dispersed enough for me to see into the boat.
And there he was.
His clothes were doused in blood, mostly in the front, and all across his neck. The innards of his throat were exposed, still draining a little red, and his hands were covered with it, too; they laid limply on his chest. His eyes were closed, lips slightly parted, hair a mess and deep circles hung under his eyes. But, despite the gore, colorful shells were placed all around him; two sat on each plank, both green, and the rest were scattered on the bottom of the boat.
I gagged, leaning over the wooden dock, and was glad I didn't eat. My body dry heaved as tears poured their way down my cheeks and onto the ground. I toppled over onto my knees, and vaguely acknowledged the commotion that was caused by this. I wrapped my arms to my sides, keeling over so my nose met my knees, and sobbed it out into my denim jeans. People had ceased trying to pull me up, and all noise was struck silent, all but my endless sobs.
"Why'd you have to bring him here?"
one year later
Now, it seems, I've lost everything.
Nothing came out of Edd's death except a mystery, a spike in tourism, and random knocks on the door from various podcast-owning conspiracy theorists. I always turned them down.
Sometimes, I would look up their podcasts later, and find episodes whose names went along the lines of "The Mystery of Edd: A Seaside Murder" , "Fishing Fun Gone Wrong?" , "EDD THEORY #14"
There was one that was particularly annoying, which was produced by a chirpy woman that would send me dozens of emails on a regular basis. I kept wondering when she would just give up, but it seemed her resolve was as tough as titanium. So I stopped checking my email.
My "new", trashy, flat was as quiet as a "new" trashy flat by the coast could be. There were the occasional annoyingly loud neighbors to tolerate, and the same conspiracy loving types always found ways to my address. Other than that, it was just old, and cracking at the seams. It was not quite home yet, and soon it would never be.
It's two AM in the summer of 20XX. The docks are quiet at this hour, but I figure it's mostly because I scare off any gangs of kids with my adulty-ness.
Water laps up on the supports as I watch, chilled by a cold breeze in the oddly cool air. I take a step closer to the edge, wind catching in my hair and clothes, building me up strong so I could knock myself over. I close my eyes, and pretend Edd is standing out in front of me, arms extended and smiling.
"C'mon, dipshit, give your beloved boyfriend a hug."
I let myself tip over into the ocean, my face colliding with the even colder waters. I'm underwater for a moment, until my buoyant body lifts me upwards. I turn over to face the midnight sky, glittering with thousands of stars like pearls in the ghastly void, sharing the same vacancy as my eyes but simply more extravagant. Maybe that's what Edd meant when he said I was beautiful- he saw me as a sky full of stars, but without its makeup on.
And then, suddenly, all I can think of is him. A familiar pain strikes my chest for the millionth time, as I reminisce on Edd's personality, his eyes, the way his face tensed up in deep concentration when he was cooking. I miss the comfort I found when we held each other, whispering sweet things into each other's hair until we both fell asleep.
I close my eyes and try to see Edd as best as possible in my vision. I imagine every crack and crevice of his skin, from to his burning hot hands, all the way to the tiny crook in his nose from breaking it in middle school.
The more I remember, the warmer I become; like someone was holding me in their arms, heating up my freezing body from the skin right down to the core. So I kept thinking, kept seeing him, and, eventually, he's laying right beside me, his warm body enveloping mine. I part my lips to speak, but he shushes me, and pulls me closer.
I stay there for a long time.end
// thank you for reading !!! this was a bitch to make djsjdkfjfj
goodbye !
YOU ARE READING
Eddsworld - Deep Blue Sea
Fanfictioni read this again because of the new ew ep and...... why was freshman year me so good at writing. why. for what. WHY