Strange Stories (MultiFandom Oneshots)

I'm Just Common

Fandom: Eddsworld

Timeline: After The End Alternate Universe

Ships: Unless A Real Story Is Created, None

  Damage

  All I can think.

 Damage

  I've been damaged. Emotionally, mentally, more of physically.

  The damage on the upper hand of my body has turned quite risky in health. The medics claim that it was a miracle that I didn't pass out from blood loss, which I'm sure they hoped of. My right arm was severed and replaced with a robotic prosthetic. My right eye removed and sewn shut, an eye patch to cover just so I feel a bit more comfortable about it. Some major cuts on my face were sown and dead skin had to be removed as well. Down to my chest was a bloody mess, cuts and scars more reminiscing on my right as expected, and one almost reaching my rib cage, sown shut to prevent anything worse there.  My lower half strangely enough wasn't at the seeming to be damaged. Externally, there were a couple cuts and burns, but that was it. Internally, I had a couple fractures at my knee cap, though it was small and wouldn't do any effect that would cause the need of surgery and it wouldn't dislocate unless I jerk it harshly in a way it is caused.

  The doctors never really did anything about my leg, just bandaged it for a reason I'm not told and gave me crutches. Never really used the crutches though. They felt restraining. I just limped around and only used it when I still needed to get somewhere but the pain became unbearable. They told me to rest as well but being someone who's always busy, I don't rest, I never did, and having bruises like these aren't going to change my schedule by itself.

  At one point my two trusted soldiers, Patrick and Pau, ((If you're new to our fandom, yes, I spelled their name like that on purpose, in a way of respectment to the real life people as they request.)) ((You do not know how many times I see people in comments saying 'You spelled that wrong, its suppose to be 'Patryk'/'Paul'.' So I'm sorry if this annoys you.)) told me to rest and not do work. They said they would take over for me on the time being for reassurance. I hesitantly agreed and left the base after reminding them not to crash anymore of our equipment.

  Why did I leave the base? The base was seen as for working, and only working. At least in my eyes it always has been.

  Now where am I? Oh yeah, the apartment complex. I didn't want to go too far away from the base, I'm always paranoid if I'm too far away. Just being this close still has me paranoid with my injuries.

  Anyways, I went to a close apartment complex to the bases location, ended up being bored with no work to do for once. I don't like social interaction, so never went for greeting with the common people. Never did like social interaction. People I've interacted with are either co-workers, soldiers, or toys. Well, maybe not just them. There were three I felt like were friends. They weren't the common you see on the streets. Not in personality, not in intelligence, even their liking's are unique to me. They never seemed or felt boring, always finding ways to surprise me, always were fascinating. Too bad my life with them became deceased. Everything is just common now.

  Even I became common.

  I've been drained when I joined the army, I became in the shadows, a puppet, common. I guess when I was given that mission at Edd's house, once I was caught, something snapped. I acknowledged that I poorly chose my fight or flight situations.

  My mind has gotten way off track, I guess that's what they do sometimes. Makes you think of one thing, them trails you to more. Our minds are similar, yes?

  I suppose.

Knock knock

  A knock on the door was heard, my thought clearing as I focus on the world. I got up and placed a beanie on my head to hide my signature horns, and placed a bandanna over my face. It's see through from my side, but not from views of others. It can help in case color recognition is present.

  I limped towards the door and opened it, immediately regretting my decisions.

  Edd is in the complex.

  Mother of-

((Should I make this a story? If so maybe suggest an idea to go with it, or a plot even.))

((Hey, sorry for never uploading, I managed to get off Wattpad and do other things in life, I'm paying a bit more attention to school now, not if you care. I'll try to get all my draft written stories done and published.))

((But my TomTord story hasn't been worked on at all-))