A/N: I own no characters from the comic. Lately I've been inspired by Let Go by Frou Frou. Now don't tell me you don't imagine Edgar and Nny when you hear that song! It might just be me though...
The world seemed colder and darker than Edgar remembered after he was fired. Nothing was the same after he packed his last possession away from his office. Once everything was cleared out, the doors from the exit way of his once job shut behind him for the last time. Edgar finally lost it. It was around mid-night when Edgar had finally gotten home. Traffic just had to be horrible today. He originally just wanted to walk down to the bookstore that was a few blocks from his house to see if any new books had come in, but the store had been shut down. Maybe a coffee would calm his nerves, he thought. The machines were all busted. Okay, so maybe he could drink his brains out. The bar was closed off with police tape.
Edgar tossed his stuff at his old TV, which resulted in glass being scattered through the air. The shards of screen littered the carpet. He flipped his table in the kitchen, then stepped into his room stabbed his fist through one of his bedroom walls. Blood seeped from the new hole in the wall. What was he doing? Edgar sat on his bed and stared at his hand. Blood poured, and dripped on the hard, wooden floor, staining it a dark red. Blood... This wasn't his fault. It wasn't the system's fault. No, it was Johnny's fault. It was always that maniac's fault! Edgar kicked his nightstand over and held his head with his good hand.
"Idiot," Edgar hissed as he glared at his still bleeding hand. "My hand is gushing with blood, and I'm doing nothing for it..."
After bandaging up his hand, Edgar wandered over to the window in his room. He picked at the tape covering the glass for a good two minutes until the black substance started to peel off. He had never seen what was outside of this window before. With one tug he ripped off all the duct tape. A blinding light shined right at Edgar's eyes. Take a step back, blink the spots away, now adjust to that blazing light.
The flames of Hell really were blindingly bright. Once he got used to the light, Edgar looked around the city, only there was no city. There were only huge rocks and a looming cliff. The flames of Hell were nowhere in sight, which was odd. He was right on the edge of the city. For a moment Edgar didn't know where he was. Boy, was it hot. It was always hot. Sighing, Edgar closed his eyes. Suddenly everything felt cool, more welcoming. The light had dimmed down. It almost felt like winter. When he opened his eyes everything didn't look hellish anymore. The rocks and cliff were covered in snow. His eyes roamed up to the sky where a huge moon lay in the darkness that was night-time, a white ring accompanying it by lining the sky. It was surrounded by small lights, stars to be exact, and a few light, fluffy grey clouds. It was like how it was back on Earth. His favorite season. He could feel the bone chilling wind blow through his hair. It felt so refreshing. Edgar placed a hand on the glass. As soon as he did the heat from Hell roared at his body, it got blindingly bright again, and the moon turned into a giant eyeball. Way to scare a guy.
What was left for Edgar now? He had no job, no friends, no family, and pretty soon he'd have no home. He was lucky enough to get a job when he first arrived in Hell. It took years to get just an interview. Nothing like waiting five to ten years for a job you may never even get. Besides, someone could have gotten the job right before you even got a chance to book an interview. You'd still be waiting there though. Waiting for the next opening, no matter what. You needed money to live. Money was something that was always hard to get. Everything here had been made to be too stressful. It was getting to Edgar. He was making this is own Hell now.
"I wish I could just go home. Heaven isn't worth living here," Edgar turned from the window. Then something interesting had caught his eyes. He quickly looked back out the window. A tunnel. In the cliff side. An escape possibly? Most likely. Edgar smirked a bit.
"That's probably a way for people to transport from Hell and back to Earth. No one seems to be guarding it, too," Edgar said aloud, like he was explaining this amazing thing to a friend in the room, but that didn't matter. He could finally escape this place. No, he wasn't going to blame Johnny for this miracle, even if that tunnel was a magnificent flaw in a way. Edgar quickly grabbed a backpack and filled it with some of his important possessions. He doubted that Hell would allow him to bring this stuff to Earth. Wait.
"If that's a path only for people who are granted second chances, won't they find out I'm not supposed to be there? I'm sure they have scanners or something in that tunnel."
The mission was over. No escape if they could find out Edgar was running away. No second chance... unless... Unless he could figure out how to sneak out without anything even noticing his escape.
Spring always brought out the worst of Johnny's allergies. It was horrible. Pollen would blow in from the boarded windows and would fly all around the house. Sure, not cleaning up the place helped with this vile season, but that was no excuse for Johnny to hate spring. The only thing that he liked was that more people were taking vacations, so there were fewer people around the city and around his home. He'd still get the occasional telemarketer, but they didn't come as often as usual. Unfortunately, this was only during "Spring Break". Spring was a horrible season.
You should learn to embrace the colors of the newly grown flowers.
Why should he even bother? Flowers smelled weird anyway. Johnny was also trying to avoid as many bright colors as possible nowadays. Bright colors made you feel. Feeling was for the weak. Flowers made everyone weak. They also did not help with his allergies. If he sneezed one more time...
Why not go outside, get some nice fresh air and some color? You're like a ghost.
He didn't need fresh air, and maybe he liked looking this pale. It made it easier to scare people looking like this. He had to entertain his "guests" somehow. Meat's suggestions were pointless. Johnny could find every way around his suggestions to make him feel. It had become easy. Too easy. It seemed that the only thing that really gave Johnny any excitement was when he'd have arguments with Meat. But now, now it was just too boring. He didn't have any challenges now.
Maybe that nice Edgar guy will convince you to leave.
Edgar? Did he know such a person by that name? So many victims. The name did ring a bell. He was pretty sure though that he killed this Edgar fellow a long time ago. How long had it been? He never was good at keeping time. There was no point. Edgar... Edgar... His last name started with a V, Johnny recalled. He was strapped to that one machine he never used afterwards. The blood from its last victim had made the gears stick together. What a shame. It got the job done just right. He remembered a man with glasses being strapped into the machine. He wasn't a bad man. If anything, Johnny didn't want to kill him, but the circumstances during the time said otherwise. He had to die. He needed the blood. Edgar couldn't possibly convince Johnny to do anything. He was a dead man, and has been for years now. Unless he was a ghost, which he doubted.
He'll come back one day. Come back for you.
Johnny sat up on the couch he was laying on. He wore a disturbed expression. He looked at the little fat statue that was on top of the TV.
"Coming back... for me?"