Lightning clapped through the clouds, followed by a roar of thunder as the dark, cloudy sky was momentarily lit by the electric flash. Tord's maroon, Converse sneakers were soaked as they splashed along the puddle-drenched cobblestone. His red hoodie was clinging to his cold, pale skin from the heavy rain that was beating down upon him like bullets from a battlefield. His lungs were burning just as badly as the singed, right sleeve of his hoodie, the tattoo of a dark-green, Oriental Dragon was now exposed on the shining, wet flesh on his thin, frail, right forearm. Tord panted in a frantic attempt to catch his breath as he sprinted through the streets of The Vatican City, only stopping once his body was fully concealed behind one of the main Church's coulombs. He silently prayed that God would keep him from being found until his siblings showed up as he leaned against the large, stone pillar to rest his aching body if only for a moment.
He hoped that no one had recognized him on the way to his current location. He had the hood of his hoodie pulled over his head to help obscure his face for the journey but he knew that keeping his hood up along with his head down could only keep him unrecognizable for so long. He glanced up briefly at the bat of whom was currently hanging, upside-down from the Church's awning. Tord wondered if this were some sort of omen or a sign of good luck, an angel watching over him perhaps? Nevertheless, he felt somewhat comforted by the winged rodent's presence. At least whatever happened next, he would not be facing it alone.
Meanwhile, a man with curly, dark-brown hair slowly drove a black, Troll car through The Vatican City. He only kept one hand in the center of the steering-wheel whilst his free-hand loosely clutched a smoking cigar between his index and middle fingers. Seated next to him, in the passenger's seat, was a slightly younger woman with long, blonde, highlighted hair. Both of them were wearing black trench-coats as they scanned their surroundings carefully.
"There were no survivors...Police are still searching for the culprit who blew up SheezyArt Headquarters; the explosion appears to have been caused by a hand-grenade..." The news reporter's obnoxiously loud voice blared from the speakers of the vehicle's radio until the man reached over to turn it off with minor difficulty due to the lit cigar between his fingers.
"Is this the right Church?" The man inquired with his thick, Norwegian accent once the car was silent as he pointed to The Vatican's main Church with his still-smoking cigar. The woman cringed slightly in disgust as she fanned the smoke away from her nostrils before glancing out the window for a better look at the old building.
"This is where he told us to meet him..." The woman noted in a Norwegian accent that was equally as strong.
"You don't think something happened to him?" The man was beginning to worry, the concern clear in his tone.
"There!" The woman suddenly exclaimed upon seeing Tord briefly peek out from behind one of the pillars before ducking back into hiding. The man quickly stopped his vehicle in front of the Church, his tires screeching loudly against the wet cobble-stones from the sudden shift in momentum. Tord peeked back out at the car and upon realizing that he recognized the vehicle that belonged to his older brother: Gary, the Norwegian-boy quickly sprinted over to the car. The moment he dove into the darkness of the back-seat, Gary slammed his gas-pedal all the way to the floor, the back-door swinging shut as he sped away from the Church.
"Are you alright?" Tord's older sister, Leila asked softly as she gently pulled down the hood of Tord's hoodie. The sympathy that was initially plastered across her countenance deepened upon seeing the tears that were currently cascading down Tord's pale, sunken-in cheeks. If his red, puffy, bloodshot eyes were not already filled with deep sorrow and regret, his tears would have easily blended in with the rain droplets that currently glittered upon his face.
"I-I'm sorry...I don't know why I...I..." Tord's voice wavered between sobs, rendering him barely able to speak as he sniffled hard to keep the mucus from pouring out of his nose, costing him what little of his dignity he had left, if any at all.
"Shhh...Don't cry, little brother...You did nothing wrong..." Leila reassured as she gently reached up to wipe the tears from Tord's face with her thumb. Gary briefly turned to flash Tord a warm smile, in an attempt to comfort him as he put out the stub that was once a cigar in his console's ash-tray.
"Everything will be okay soon...Just try to get some rest for now..." Gary added as he reached over the seat to hand Tord a black, wool blanket that easily blended in with the car's back-seat. No doubt to keep their youngest sibling concealed as they drove. Tord nodded before covering himself with the blanket completely and lying down in the back-seat to at least attempt to go to sleep.
"Where do we go now?" Leila softly asked her older brother.
"Far away from here..." Gary chuckled with a slight smirk as he drove.
"Somewhere will no one can ever find us..." He then added, a bit more softly as their already black vehicle disappeared into the darkness of the night.
Present day at London Comicon: Tom sat at his designated, merchandise table, sulking as he usually did as his two, new friends: Eddie and Elliot, set up all of their filming equipment behind him. It had been several years since the death of his best friend, Edd Gould. Tom had changed quite a bit in appearance since then: He had since gained a lot of weight due to emotional eating and now sported a bleached-blond Mohawk with blue frosted-tips.
Tom had since outgrown his old, blue hoodie, having now replaced it with a black and white, checker-patterned, button-up shirt with an open, black, leather vest overlaying it. He also now wore a pair of novelty glasses, the kind with sophisticated rims and painted-on eyes to cover the black, empty sockets where his own eyes should have been. Tom was not in a good mood at the moment. It was the Anniversary of Edd's death and the night before, some elaborate grave-robber had actually gone through the effort of desecrating the entire graveyard where Edd's memorial rested. Every single body had been dug up and stolen by an unknown culprit of whom the police were still searching for. The tombstone memorial itself had been shattered into several pieces.
To make matters worse, someone had broken into the homes of Tom, Matt, even Edd's family and had stolen each of their shares of Edd's ashes. Tom was far beyond outraged and he was certain he would never forgive whoever had committed these heinous acts.
"Cheer up, Tom; I'm sure the police will find Edd's ashes before anything happens to them..." Elliot reassured once he had finished hooking up his large, flatscreen monitor.
"Yeah, right...My best friend's remains have probably been made into some sort of creepy doll by now..." Tom bitterly grumbled in response.
"This time, those Eddsworld fans have gone too far!" Tom then suddenly snapped as he pounded his fist onto the table, hard enough to spill his untouched cup of coffee. Eddie was quick to move the stack of A.S.D.F. Movie T-shirts out of the way of the slowly growing puddle before any of the material could become tainted.
"I know but try not to let them ruin Comicon for you?" Eddie then encouraged as Elliot began attempting to clean up the mess with a handful of cheap, McDonalds napkins.
"It's a little late for that..." Tom then slumped back down into his chair, planning on continuing to sulk. That was, until he took notice of a particular member of the audience: Standing out, clear amongst the large crowd, was a man who looked exactly like Edd, completely untouched by time as well as Cancer for that matter. The Edd look-alike pointed at Tom with his hand in the shape of a gun and pretended to shoot at him with his index-finger, his thumb acting as the trigger. Tom was already disturbed by the man's uncanny resemblance to his deceased, best friend but for reasons he could not explain to himself, the gesture that look-alike made, unnerved him, made him feel nauseous. His anxiety rose once the man had turned around to reveal that he was hiding what appeared to be a real pistol behind his back.
As Tom watched the strange man disappear into the crowd, he mentally tried to reassure himself that it was probably just some elaborate cosplayer with a very convincing, fake gun trying to impress him. Tom was then abruptly distracted from his thoughts once he spotted his former-friend, Matt walking by. About a month or so after Edd's tragic demise, poor Tom had a mental breakdown and decided to cut ties with several people in his life that he deemed to be toxic at the time. He sent out personally damaging emails to several of his old friends, even his ex-girlfriend at the time. Among those of whom he had sent emotionally, harmful emails to were Matt and Bing.
"Hey, Matt!" Tom called out to the redhead with a friendly wave as he stood up from his seat. The brunette, now-blond, mentally kicked himself for sounding almost too desperate. Recently, Tom had since sent out apology emails to Matt and Bing in an attempt to repair their damaged friendship. Despite the fact that Matt and Bing had verbally accepted Tom's apology in their reply emails, there was still a clear tension amongst the trio. The consequences of Tom's prior actions were made all-too clear to him when Matt turned to glare at him from over his shoulder.
Matt's appearance had changed drastically over the years as well. The loss of all three of his friends in such a seemingly rapid amount of time made poor, once-innocent Matt spiral into a deep depression that soon led into a Gothic phase: Matt's sunset, once-spiky hair now hung in straight bangs that covered his left eye, the top of his left ear now a held bar-piercing and his plum hoodie had since been replaced with his old, black hoodie. There were dark circles beneath his blue eyes; whether they were from constant crying or lack of sleep, Tom would never be certain. With a small, dark growl, Matt returned to setting up his own booth for Comicon, choosing to ignore his betrayer.
"You're not still mad about that whole email thing, are you? I said I was sorry..." Tom nervously attempted to apologize to Matt in, person this time as he approached his booth. Perhaps he was a fool for thinking that his years-long mistake could be resolved by a simple, 'sorry,' via email.
"It isn't just about the email, Tom!" Matt finally snapped back as he turned around to face Tom. Just seeing him again made Matt's heart ache.
"It's...I-It's..." Matt turned his back to Tom upon feeling his eyes begin to sting with hot tears that threatened to spill over.
"What?" Tom asked gently as he attempted to place a comforting hand on Matt's shoulder. His kind gesture was violently shrugged away by Matt as if Matt were disgusted by his touch.
"You ended our friendship..." Matt's voice cracked as he refused to even look at Tom.
"I want to reconcile..." Tom reminded him as he would never have apologized if he did not intend to salvage whatever remained of their damaged friendship.
"You don't understand...Y-You abandoned me...when I needed a friend most..." Matt somberly explained just how deeply Tom's act of betrayal hurt him, his voice wavering all the while.
"Matt..." Tom began, finding himself at a loss for words as his guilt began to fully return to him.
"You abandoned us..." Matt then added, much to Tom's confusion.
"What?" Tom of course questioned, unaware of who Matt was referring to. Was he talking about Bing?
"We could have kept his World spinning...We could have kept him alive..." Matt then growled as he angrily turned back around to face Tom, his eyes glossy with tears that he was still struggling to fight back.
"You can't be serious...Have you seen what our so-called fanbase had done?!" Tom was exasperated that after all this time, Matt was still thinking about reviving Eddsworld, especially after all of the crimes their psychotic fans had been committing over the years.
"Did it ever occur to you that they never would have done those things if we had just kept our promise to them?!" Matt bellowed as tears finally fell, gaining the attention of quite a few bystanders, much to Tom's dismay.
"Our promise to Edd?" He then spoke his last peace in a much, softer tone before he tearfully stormed off to the bathroom where he would be able to take a moment to try and pull himself together.
"Matt!" Tom called out after Matt but his attempt was in vain as Matt either did not hear him or had ignored him completely. Tom ran a hand through his frosted Mohawk from the stressful mess his life had become as he was now beginning to second-guess all of his past decisions. Maybe Matt was right, maybe he should have just kept their promise to their deceased, best friend despite all of the drama.
"Pat?! Patryk Dudelwitz?! Long time, no see!" Tom was once again, startled out of his own, personal thoughts by Paul shouting across the room, in an attempt to gain Patryk's attention. Patryk appeared greatly irritated as he was currently in the process of setting up his own booth.
"For the sake of my professionalism, I would like to keep it that way..." Patryk snorted as he held up his hand to signal Paul to stop in his tracks. Tom had not been the only one to do some bridge-burning after the inevitable fall of Eddsworld. Apparently, the positive attention Patryk had been receiving from Eddsworld fans, had done quite a bit of damage to his reputation. However, Tom personally felt that Patryk had damaged his own reputation by blowing up at his own fans over a blog-post. It seemed as if Patryk were partially aware of this as well since he did end up removing the blog after a day or two of backlash but he was still holding firm on his decision to remove all things Eddsworld from his life.
Paul naturally appeared deeply hurt by his once, best friend's rejection but seeing as how a lot of distasteful fan-art had been drawn of him with Patryk, he still found himself unable to completely blame Patryk for his current, cold demeanor. Once Patryk had finally finished setting up his booth, he swore lightly beneath his breath upon realizing that he had made the mistake of setting his booth up next to Tom's booth.
"Hey, Pat..." Tom awkwardly greeted as he returned to his seat at his own booth.
"Don't talk to me..." Patryk snorted as he now held his hand up to Tom as well. Tom flashed Patryk a small glare of irritation, due to his disrespectful attitude, in response.
"Tom?" Before Tom could give Patryk a much-deserved, snarky comeback of his own, he was once again, distracted from his thoughts by yet-another familiar voice. Tom then gave a sigh of utter defeat upon realizing that his booth was set up in between not only Patryk's but Bing's booth as well. He silently wondered how many of his enemies would be attending London Comicon today. Was there some sort of conspiracy going on behind his back of which all of his enemies from the past were plotting to punish him for all of his transgressions against them?
"Oh? Hey, Bing..." Tom sheepishly greeted as he reached up to uncomfortably scratch the back of his head.
"I didn't know you were going to be setting up your booth here..." Bing noted, clearly regretting his choice of location for his own booth. What followed next was an awkward silence between the two.
"Bing? Listen, I..." Tom began another attempt at an in-person apology only for Bing to abruptly cut him off.
"Larry?! Is that Larry? I think I see Larry over there; I should go say, hi..." Bing came up with an excuse to leave before briskly walking away from Tom.
"Larry!" Bing called out again with a wave before disappearing into the crowd. Tom released another tired sigh before removing his novelty eye-glasses and returning to his seat at his own booth. As Tom let the dark reality sink in of just how many friends he had lost over the course of one year, he began to question if he were a bad friend or even just a bad person in general.
"Depression is a real illness that effects people in different ways. While there's no one way to tell for certain if someone is depressed or considering suicide, here are a few signs you can look out for: If someone is suffering from depression, they may stop doing activities they use to enjoy or they may start isolating themselves from family and friend's..." Laurel began her speech on stage from over a microphone. As Tom listened to Laurel's description of depression, something he was far-too familiar with struggling with himself, his thoughts began to drift to Tord, someone he had not thought about in quite, some time. Before his sudden, mysterious disappearance, Tord had begun to show clear signs of depression, most of which, Laurel had just described.
"They might even dramatically change their appearance..." Laurel added as Tom specifically remembered the way Tord had dyed his naturally, platinum-blond hair to the chestnut-brown shade it was when he last saw him. Tom sighed again as he buried his face into his hands, mentally chastising himself for failing Tord the same, exact way he had failed Matt and Bing. Tom began to drown out the rest of Laurel's speech as he began to internally question if all of his, at least what he thought was harmless teasing had only made things worse for Tord when he was already going through something pretty brutal.
"Psst! Tom? It's time for the Q. and A..." Elliot whispered as he quite literally nudged Tom out of his train of thought.
"Oh? Right..." Tom finally took notice of his surrounding fans as he tapped his index-finger to his microphone to test the sound.
"You!" He then pointed to Hellucard, choosing him at random to ask the first question.
"When are you going to reveal the big surprise to us?" Hellucard asked his question.
"What surprise?" Tom asked in confusion as he thought back to his previous blogs in an attempt to recall ever mentioning a plot to surprise his fans at Comicon.
"The one you promised us in the gift-bags you gave us." Hellucard explained as he reached into his own gift-bag to pull out a small note to show to Tom.
"You didn't tell us you were doing gift-bags..." Eddie covered his microphone to whisper to Tom.
"That's because there weren't supposed to be any gift-bags..." Tom whispered back, just as confused as Eddie was.
"Elliot?" He then questioned the only, other person with him to see if his more, technically, advanced friend had planned a surprise of his own.
"Don't look at me..." Elliot shrugged, eliminating Tom's last, possible, logical explanation. It was then that Tom's monitor had begun to malfunction, displaying a video that nobody ever expected to see again: Tord's last video. Tord began the video with a small sigh as he appeared quite nervous.
"Hello, everyone...It's me...Tord..." Tord sheepishly introduced himself as he kept his solum gaze to the floor.
"What the Hell, Elliot?!" Tom demanded as he became increasingly bothered by seeing such a personal video displayed on his own monitor.
"I didn't do this! Someone hacked the monitor!" Elliot insisted as he began to fumble with the remote but to no avail. In the mean time, the crowd began to cheer upon seeing Tord's face again after so long.
"I know I have been gone for a while and the last time you all saw me, I was at my absolute, mental breaking-point..." Tord began only to pause to let out another sigh.
"I feel like I cannot begin this video without first talking about what happened to me, especially since I sort of disappeared in the middle of the night...I've tried ignoring it in the past but that only made things worse and I am afraid that if I try to come back without addressing things first, the cycle that led to me leaving in the first place will just start all over again..." As Tord began to explain his side of things in the video, in a bit of an awkward ramble, the crowd began to murmur amongst each other, all wondering if there was more to Tord's disappearance than they had initially been led to believe. Tom on the other hand, was becoming increasingly distressed by the video to the point where he finally just stood up to unplug the monitor himself. The crowd then suddenly gasped before falling silent and Tom assumed that this was because he had unplugged the monitor until he took notice of the dialogue from amongst the crowd.
"Is that?" Bing asked once he had been momentarily distracted from his conversation with Larry.
"No..." Tom grunted beneath his breath as he turned to look up at the stage, afraid of what he might see.
"Tord?" Matt emotionally questioned once he had returned from the bathroom to see, along with the rest of the crowd, a man wearing a familiar, red hoodie slowly making his way to the front of the stage. His eyes were covered by a shadow that was casted by the hood of his hoodie as his footsteps were the only sound to echo throughout the room. Tom took notice of how singed and burnt the right arm of Tord's hoodie was, exposing his dragon tattoo. By this point, Tom knew for certain that this was the real Tord and not just another elaborate cosplayer. As Tord made his way to the front of the stage, a poster that was hung on the wall behind him briefly gave him the appearance of having Angel wings.
Judging by the crowd's reactions, outsiders would have been forgiven for thinking that Tord was some sort of guardian angel who had returned to save The World from an approaching apocalypse. Paul approached the stage to get a better look at this mysterious figure but once he had taken a good look at Tord's face, he was quick to scramble out of the Norwegian's way. Tord came to a stop once he had reached the front of the stage and stared out at the crowd before him. His skin was still pale, almost a milky white, his cheeks were sunken-in and he had deep, red bags beneath his wide, bloodshot eyes.
"T-Tord? Is that really you?" Tom nervously asked, deciding to be the first to break the deafening silence.
"Yes..." Tord simply replied after a brief moment of hesitation. The confirmation of course caused the crowd to burst into an uproar of cheers, much to Tord's surprise. Tord also seemed a bit uncertain, as if he were mentally questioning the choice he was about to make next.
"Stop!" Patryk snapped as he was quick to stand up from his own seat. His sudden outburst had of course, effectively silenced the crowd's applause.
"This is exactly the kind of attention that made Tord leave in the first place!" Patryk scolded as he attempted to suppress a small smirk that Tord still took notice of despite his attempt to hide it. As Patryk stepped up onto the stage to stand beside Tord, he was unaware of the hateful, murderous glare that Tord was currently giving him.
"Did...Did you hack my monitor?" Tom then questioned his once-missing friend, still in awe and disbelief that the actual Tord Larsson was currently standing before him at the moment. At the moment, Tom felt as if he were staring at something as rare as a unicorn. He had not seen Tord in person for so long, he felt as if he were currently in a dream.
"Yes..." Tord simply replied again as he turned away from Patryk to gaze back out at the crowd with an unreadable expression.
"Why?" Tom forced himself to ask despite being afraid of what Tord's answer might be. He knew Tord's intentions would most-likely not be good but he was convinced that Tord was only here to seek his vengeance upon him.
"I wish to be a part of your Q. and A..." Tord replied, invoking another applause from the crowd. Tom just stared up at Tord in confusion as he waited patiently for the crowd to fall silent once again.
"Tord...you've been gone for so long; what made you decide to come back now?" Tom then decided to question Tord further, wanting to just get whatever was about to happen over with.
"Well, Tom..." Tord began as he pulled down his hoodie to reveal that he had since dyed his hair almost completely black aside from the small hint of red that tipped his left, gelled horn. Tord had chosen this new hairstyle as a way of outwardly expressing his internal feelings of brokenness, loss and especially, grief.
"I have nothing left to lose...Nothing can hurt me anymore...My life has inevitably crumbled!" Tord explained, almost a bit too cheerfully as he threw his arms up into the air in a celebratory fashion.
"Is that what all this is about? To make some sort of statement?" Elliot then decided to ask the next question with slight impatience in his tone.
"That and I felt I owed my fans the truth..." Tord confirmed before trailing off to his next point.
"Yeah! That you all single-handedly ended Eddsworld!" Patryk once again decided to interject himself into Tord's announcement, which of course caused Tord to flash him another glare of pure hatred, this time narrowing his grey eyes at him.
"My fans!" Tord then called out to the crowd in Norwegian. A majority of the crowd cheered but a few people appeared to be confused: Tom, Elliot, Matt, Eddie, Bing, Larry, Paul and Patryk being amongst the confused party as they, themselves were currently unable to understand what Tord was saying.
"Forward march!" Tord instructed, once again in Norwegian as his large, loyal fanbase began to march toward the stage, effectively separating themselves from those of whom were not Tord's fans.
"Halt!" Tord then shouted as his rather large army of fans came to an obedient halt at the base of the stage. Tord could not help but smirk proudly at just how many supporters he had on his side before deciding to begin his private speech to them.
"I did not leave because of you! I would never leave because of you!" Tord reassured his fans, still speaking in his native language as he turned to once again glare intensely at Patryk. Tom and the others only continued to watch Tord in confusion as well as slight concern at this point.
"It was the haters that drove me into hiding..." Tord proceeded, never once breaking eye-contact with Patryk.
"My fans! Slay your haters! Slay all who bully with the weapons in the gift-bags I have given you! Strike down the self-righteous but harm no child!" Tord commanded his fans in Norwegian and within seconds, gunfire along with screams rang throughout the small, inclosed building as Tord's fans began to shoot down people at seemingly random with the small, handheld pistols they had all pulled from Tord's gift-bags to them. Alex Mahan, the creator of Yandere Simulator flinched hard when one of Tord's fans approached him with a screwdriver. However, he relaxed when all the fan did was merely hand him the screwdriver.
After staring at the screwdriver for a moment or two, Alex charged into the crowd with a war-cry to join in on the massacre, attacking the creator of Love Letter (the clear copy of Yandere Simulator,) in particular, stabbing him repeatedly with his new screwdriver. Mariah Mallad too stood amongst the crowd, concealing her appearance beneath a Sans from Undertale cosplay so she could still attend Comicon despite being banned from the event prior. She ripped off her blue hoodie with her bare-hands, revealing her skeletal-themed bra before charging into the crowd with a war-cry of her own and tackling one of her accusers of whom she had recognized to the ground.
"Sweet beets and peanut-meat! Somebody call the police!" Tom cried out as Paul just stared out at the carnage in a state of pure shock. Paul then flinched when a sudden, loud bang temporarily reduced his hearing to nothing more than a long, shrill beep. After touching a hand to his cheek at the feeling of something warm and wet being sprinkled on his face, he realized that blood had been splattered all over him, blood that was not his own. When Paul turned to see what had happened, his horror-filled eyes met with Patryk's dull, lifeless ones.
Paul watched in horror as a small stream of blood continued to spurt from the fresh bullet-wound in Patryk's forehead before Patryk finally fell dead to the floor of the stage. Paul looked up to see the Edd Gould impersonator Tom had encountered earlier still holding the pistol he had used to shoot Patryk through the back of the head as he emotionlessly stared down at Patryk's still-twitching corpse. Fueled only by a mix of strong, negative emotions at this point, Paul charged toward the Edd-cosplayer in an attempt to attack him but despite only appearing to be physically out of shape, the cosplayer proved himself to be incredibly strong as he effortlessly pinned Paul to the floor of the stage, with his foot on his head, forcing him to stare into the soulless eyes of what was once his best friend.
"Look at him...He is dead because of you..." The cosplayer emotionlessly taunted as Paul began to sob uncontrollably at the feeling of Patryk's hot blood beginning to pool beneath him. Though he was frozen in shock, Tom was disturbed by how much this cosplayer could even get his voice to sound like Edd's voice.
"Tom, come on! Eddie, let's go!" Elliot was quick to grab Tom and Eddie by their biceps to forcefully drag them away from the chaos unfolding before them. Kiki watched from her Feminist group's booth as Tord knelt down over Paul to whisper something in his ear. She narrowed her eyes in concentration as she gradually began to recognize Tord, remembering why she had not been deemed a part of his fanbase despite being a hardcore, Eddsworld fan, herself.
"You!" She called out, pointing an accusatory finger at him once she remembered being the first to take a stand against his online art of which she personally deemed to be problematic. Tord stood up to glare at Kiki as the blonde charged toward him, in an attempt to possibly confront his actions. She was unaware that Tord's elder siblings: Gary and Leila had both pulled a switch on the opposite sides of the room to trigger a trap that Tord had set specifically for Kiki's group.
With several, loud pops, the hot, steel cables that were once holding up the strings of decorative, multi-colored, paper lanterns, shot across the room from both directions, destroying several booths and catering-tables in the process. All of the women attending the Feminist group let out a small collection of either gags or gasps as the now, blood-coated cables slapped against the concrete walls violently. Blood trickled from Kiki's pants-leg as she watched her wrist slowly slide from her elbow. Her upper-torso then fell to the floor as he lower-torso dropped to its knees. Bing watched in horror as all of the other Feminists quite literally fell apart before him with a few, wet, squishy thumps.
One, young girl grunted softly as she weakly attempted to reattach her twitching legs to her waist whilst Kiki's severed-arm reached up toward Tord in a vain attempt to stop him before falling limp against her pale forehead, her face frozen in a silent scream. Bing's attention was then removed from the mass of twitching, severed limbs when he heard Larry let out a gasp of his own.
"Larry?" Bing questioned in concern. Larry had unfortunately been standing too close to the sidelines and had become one of many casualties to be struck by Tord's cable-trap. Blood trickled from the corner of Larry's mouth as he slumped forward with a strained whimper. Bing attempted to catch his best friend but Larry's lower-half still fell to the floor regardless. His intestines snapped back at Bing, spraying his face with a sickening mixture of blood and stomach-acid.
Bing began to hyperventilate as his trembling hands unintentionally dropped his dead, best friend's upper-half to the floor. Bing then let out a blood-curdling scream that was a mix between both trauma as well as grief. Bing, along with many others had not been expecting London Comicon to end with such a tragedy.