All Fudge could remember when he woke up was him telling himself to go to sleep the previous day. He'd lain in bed for about an hour quietly saying "Go to sleepgotosleepgotosleep" to himself over and over again.

He got up feeling groggy, and a little sick. Ugh, he had morning breath. Fudge stumbled into the bathroom and used the mouthwash. As he was gargling, he remembered something that made his eyes widen.

"My chemical reactions project!" he sputtered. "It's due today!"

Fudge rushed out of the bathroom and checked the clock. It was 5:30 AM. Great, he didn't have much time to work.

Still rushing, he made his way down the stairs, into the kitchen. There, he saw his beloved parents, both sitting at the table, and taking turns drinking out of a small, metallic bottle. They both looked extremely depressed, and there were definitive bags beneath their eyes, as if they hadn't gotten any sleep at all.

"Mother? Father? What's the matter?" Fudge asked with concern.

After a bit of silence, his mother groaned.

"Oh, Fudge! It's your sister! She's..." The woman paused to sob. "Dead!"

Fudge froze. He couldn't move or speak if he tried.

"We found her body on the kitchen floor when we got home last night," his father went on solemnly. "We don't know what happened; there was no blood, nothing...but we called the mortician to take her away so that you wouldn't have to see her like that."

"No...blood?" Fudge asked.

"NO!" His mother cried.

Fudge could remember clearly now. After he had seen the cat buried in the backyard, he had returned inside for breakfast. And Zim was the one who made the waffles.

"DON'T TOUCH THAT!", Zim had shrieked. He had been saving one particular plate of waffles for Fudge's sister. And he must have poisoned it!

"She was killed," gasped Fudge.

"What are you talking about?" Mr. Hopkins asked. "Who...?"

"It was- -!" Fudge turned to see Zim emerging from the basement.

Zim looked at the forlorn family. "What's the matter?"

"IT WAS YOU!" screamed Fudge, tackling Zim with all his might. This being the first time he had attacked anyone, he didn't judge his force very well, and he and Zim went tumbling down the basement steps.

Fudge clasped his hands around Zim's neck and squeezed, but Zim remained stone-faced. He could hear his parents yelling from above, but he ignored them, even ignoring his own bruising from falling down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, Fudge slammed Zim's head into the floor with an audible thud.

"You killed my sister! YOU KILLED HER, YOU KILLED HER, YOU KILLED HER!" Fudge repeated, slamming Zim's head each time. The green boy suddenly grew anxious when he began to bleed, and cover the back of his head with both hands.

Fudge's parents hurried down the stairs and pried their son off of Zim.

"What has gotten into you?!"

"Zim, are you alright?!"

Zim stepped back away from them. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Don't look at me."

Fudge pulled out of his mother's grasp. "Zim is hiding things from you! Yesterday, I came down here and saw him doing suspicious crap!"

Fudge never used the word "crap", so his parents knew he was serious as hell.

He stomped his way over to where he had seen the green glow the previous day. It was covered with a burlap cloth.

"Here it is! Look!" Fudge pulled the cloth off, revealing...his chemical reactions project...

"...what is that?" breathed Mrs. Hopkins.

"U-Uhm..."

"Your project," answered Zim. "I noticed that you didn't finish it, so I took care of it to relieve you of stress. How was I to know your sister would be poisoned?"

"POISON! HE SAID POISON!" Fudge screeched like a maniac. "He...He killed her! How would he know how she died...if he didn't...do it."

Mr. and Mrs. Hopkins stared at their son aghast and afraid. He looked he would take great delight in killing somebody. (Zim in particular)

The green boy pulled a sheet of paper from behind his back and handed it to the shaking parents.

"The autopsy arrived not long ago. Something the girl ate contained some unidentifiable, yet brilliantly effective, poison."

"Oh..." Mr. Hopkins pulled at his hair. "Who could've done this?"

"Well, you know what they say. Often the first to accuse are the ones who committed the crime," Zim stated. "Not that that applies to this particular situation."

Fudge shook his head in disbelief.

"...Fudge, go to your room," his mother said sternly. "And don't come out until further notice! Zim can drop off your project at school for you."

Now knowing what Zim was capable of, Fudge didn't even want Zim out of the house, but he was too stunned to argue. He gave Zim one final glare before heading up to his room.

There, Fudge was alone with his thoughts. The previous scene played over and over in his head for what seemed like hours.
Then he started fidgeting. He scratched at the bandage on his knee and smacked his palms together. He'd gotten some of Zim's blood on them, and his face scrunched up in disgust. It was...not of normal color.

Fudge wasn't hearing any sounds from downstairs.

Eventually, he felt too burnt out to do anything but sleep.

(A/N: Alright, I promise all will be explained! There are only two chapters left and there is a somewhat planned end to all of this!

I think y'all can tell I was rushing with the ending, because ...was strapped for time and I sorta just wanted to update...but I promise the next chapter will be longer! It'll be the penultimate chapter after all! Well, please review, fave and follow, and I shall see you next time!)