Tom scowled at the group talking in the kitchen. An obnoxious laugh soon burst through the doorway, making his skin crawl. Tord was back and there was nothing he could do about it. Jealousy and hatred ripped out his chest as he sat lazily on the couch, the bastard was meant to be dead. Buried six feet underground with a blood stained harpoon stabbed in his chest but instead he was sat on the counter, grinning at Edd and Matt. Tom's friends. The only visual effect of the incident was red, twisted scars that danced on the side of his face and a red robotic prosthetic in place of his left arm.

Edd had immediately forgave him for the mass destruction  he caused. 'He's our friend no matter what.' Or 'He's sorry.' Was all Tom heard for a week until he finally agreed to forgive Tord.

Running his fingers over the harsh stitches on his arm, he remembered why he hated the colour red and everything it had done to him. It had hurt him, destroyed everything he loved, tore his friends away from him, lied to him and broke him. He remembered seeing the red blood trickle out his arm and how much it angered him to see that god forsaken colour be an essential part of him.

"Tom?" A familiar concerned voice pulled him from his thoughts.
"What?" Since the return, Tom had grown much colder to everyone, lacking some if any emotion.
"Uh, Tord needed to, umm, pick something up from your apartment." The nervous stutter of Edd, answered.
"Sure, whatever. Tord, c'mon." Standing up, he tugged his hoodie sleeves past the small piece of bandage showing over his wrists and walked to the door, not bothering to wait for his plus one.

Once the pair silent got to Tom's apartment, Tord immediately started to stumble around appearing like he was looking for something. He metallic hand reaching under couches and to the back of cupboards.
"Aha, found it." He mumbled, his strong accent slicing through the stuffy air.
"Found what? What you possibly leave at my house? When where you even here?" Something wasn't right, Tord was never at Tom's apartment and no one else had a key other then him.
"Shut up, your stupidity hurts my head." He growled, pulling his hand out from between the layers of Smirnoff bottles to reveal a gun.

"Tord. What is that-"
"Thomas, you're thicker then I thought." A high pitched laugh followed the sentence as he raised the weapon,
"This is a 9mm semiautomatic pistol." There was a bounce of excitement in his words, like a child talking about a new toy.
"And, why the fuck is it here?" Anger washed over the Britt as he clenched his fists. Tord had left a, probably illegal, gun in Tom's alcohol cabinet.
"Well, I couldn't leave it at Matt's place, he would do something stupid with it and Edd would of found it easily." He sighed, clearly getting bored.
"No, why do you have it?"
"What's an army leader without his weaponry."
"Army lea- you said you left that crap!" His voice started to gain volume causing the man in front of him to burst into laughter.
"Like you believed me. You were onto me from the moment I stepped back through Edd's doors. You've always been the one thing stopping me, but not for long." He smirked, slowly gliding over.

In a desperate scurry to get away, Tom stumbled back. Falling back into a chest.
"You want to live so bad? I'll make you wish you were dead." Tord grinned, slowly shutting the case.
"T-Tord. Please."
"Tord. Please~" the criminal mocked, "just shut up and I won't kill you."

The scene slowly started fading to black and an echo of a lock filled Tom's ears. As Tord walked out the apartment, displaying a frantic look on his face.
"EDD! MATT!" He yelled,
The two appeared quickly, "Tom drunk himself to death." He cried.
"What?!" Edd's voice broke,
"Yeah. I was gonna go get the thing and he suddenly collapsed."
"We should get him to hospital."
"Nono. I checked his pulse." He whimpered "he's gone."
"Can we say goodbye?" Matt asked sorrowfully.
Tord shook his head "you don't want to. He doesn't look like Tom. Puke and bile everywhere."

This was enough for Edd to brake down, falling to the floor crying. Matt fell to his side. Holding him close. The sight disgusted Tord. Pitiful. All he did was make your life difficult. Tord walked out "I'm gonna pack his things." He mumbled, unable to look at the mess on the floor and walked into Tom's apartment.

"They think you're dead." He spoke loudly, sitting on the case as Tom kicked upwards.
"Tord! Let. Me. Out!"
"Ummm. No." he chuckled, enjoying seeing his old friend suffer.

Tom guess he's going to have to get used to a box sized world.