It was a Tuesday when Ellen came home in tears, the large droplets falling from her eyes in torrents that cascaded down her cheeks like waterfalls.
Ellen enver cried. Ever. No matter what.
She was the famous tomboy girl. The only girl in Nods Limbs who could break her hand and not even so much as bat an eyelash.
But she had collapsed into her brother's arms, who had previously been standing in the foyer smoking absentmindedly, in a heap of emotional hurt and clung to him like he was her lifeline, her words coming out in broken sobs.
The teens at school had hurt her.
They had physically assaulted her in the middle of class.
And the teacher had done nothing about it.
Edgar sighed and snuffed his spent cigarette out onto the heel of his boot, his lips set in a grim line as he looked up at the mansion that lay before him while slowly exhaling the smoke that was in his lungs from his nose.
He had a job to do that needed to be finished soon.
Pale fingers came to the black bandana around his neck, pulling it up to where it covered his nose all the way down to his jaw and sat snuggy underneath his cheekbones below his eyes.
He hated the smell of his work.
With silent steps he went forward, easily slipping past (more like over if he was honest) the locked front gate and quickly running up the tightlypacked gravel driveway in silence to where the door to the mansion was.
The lights weren't on and the car was in the driveway, which meant that the only one living there was home and more than likely asleep.
He pressed himself ear first against the outerwall of the building once he was close enough and waited for a long moment; he couldn't hear any voices inside.
Edgar looked around, smirking when his eyes zoomed in and spotted a window.
An open window with no screen on the inside to protect it.
"What an idiot."
With a soft chuckle to himself the teen came up beneath the window, grabbing onto the sill and lifting himself up until he could easily slide in despite his gangly height.
Once inside he looked around, looking for anything specific that could help aid him in his project.
Something shiny near the sink caught his attention and he quickly went over to the object, grinning when he found it to be exactly what he was looking for.
"Bingo," he whispered, picking the object up in his hand carefully.
With the object now secured the teen walked further into the house, being currently in the kitchen, with a softness to his step that could only be learned through experience.
Lots and lots of experience.
As he crept his way into the living room he noticed a set of stairs that stretched up to a seperate floor, and he debated with himself for a moment before taking to stairs two at a time in attempt to not waste time. He had to be quick.
Once at the well of the stairs he moved down the hall, pressing his back against the wall closest to the stairs and scooting towards the door that was at the end of the hall.
The door that was slightly cracked open and had a soft light streaming from it.
As Edgar came closer to the opening he heard the sound of snoring, and a large and devilish smirk graced his lips as he pulled himself off the wall and creeped towards the door.
Only one person lived in this house and they never ever had guests.
A pale hand came out to open the door just a little bit further, the black clad figure of Edgar sliding in shortly after once he was sure he could fit inbetween the door and the frame.
For a moment Edgar just stood by the door, his nearly black eyes taking in the scene that lay before him.
Mrs. Jokowski, a middle aged woman with a curvy body and long brown hair, laid in bed, the red coveres of her comfoter pulled up to her chin as she slept peacefully on her back.
'Red,' Edgar thought to himself with a cocky smirk, 'how fitting.'
The pale skinned teen approached the bed silently, his boot clad feet making no noise on the carpeted floor as he trained his eyes on the figure in bed and came up to stand beside her.
The figure roused once Edgar's shadow was casted over her, her system slowly waking itself up as she noticed that something wasn't quite right.
She rubbed at her eyes then, looking over to the source of shadow before her eyes went wide.
Edgar grinned then, leaning his upper half down to look into her fear stricken eyes.
"Miss me?" Edgar laughed as he straightened himself, a sinister smirk on his lips.
This next bit was his favorite part.
The gleaming was caught in her eyes, the moon reflecting off a shiny object.
Edgar hummed happily to himself as he walked down the sidewalk, a slight skip to his step as the darkness around him seemed to seep into his skin and make him one with his surroundings.
The headphones in his ears were blasting music, what it exactly was Edgar couldn't tell you.
But all that mattered was that he had sound.
Edgar hated silence after a job.
Absolutely detested it.
With a smirk the teen looked behind him, his smirk widening when he saw the bag that laid in the little red wagon that he was pulling behind him.
Job well done if he asked himself.
Job very well done.
With an even wider grin he turned the corner onto a gravel pathway, beginning the long treck up the hill to the mansion that he called home.
Edgar grunted and placed his hands under the running faucet in their bathroom tub, grabbing the bar of soap from the sink and rubbing at his hands harshly while watching as some of the dried substance that was caked allover on his arms and hands very, very, very slowly circled down the drain.
"This stuffs like dried paint," Edgar groaned, using his nails to scratch at the parts of discolored skin on his hands and arms once he got them wet and lathered in soap.
"I'm so damn dirty," Edgar chuckled in amusememt, shaking his head as he continued to pick and scrub at his skin.
"I'd say so if it's got you daring to use soap." A female voice chartled from behind him, and he nearly jumped out of his skin before turning to where the person speaking would only be able to see his back.
"Where have you been?" Ellen questioned, her voice sounding like it was coming from somewhere near the doorway.
Edgar could mentally picture her leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed at her chest as her black eyes burned holes in the back of his head while awaiting an answer.
"Out." Edgar stated simply as he picked at his skin again, grimicing in slight discomfort when some of the substance on his skin came off with a chunk of his actual skin and washed down the drain.
"At two in the morning?" Ellen questioned skeptically, her tone unbeleiving.
"This is the twelfth time straight that you've dissapeared in the middle of the night Edgar. It's beginning to scare me." Ellen chastised her younger brother, a stern yet worried frown on her lips.
"I know, I know." Edgar stated with a warm smile, his features softening at his elder sister's chiding as he kept his back to her.
But him saying he knew didn't make up for what he did.
"That's the last time I should be out, I finished my project a couple of minutes ago." Edgar stated, continuing to rub at his skin with soap as more of the substance washed down the drain.
"Alright," Ellen sighed in defeat, a soft smile in her tone, "just come to bed once you've cleaned up. You don't need to be staying up all night in attempt to feed your insomnia."
With this said Ellen left, the sound of her feet hitting the wood floorboards in the hallway slowly fading to silence.
It was then that Edgar turned his full attention back to his arms, once again scrubbing at the substance and grunting when only some of the dried substance came off and washed down the drain.
"Fucking blood doesn't wash off for shit man."
It was a Saturday morning when it happened.
When Ellen came running up the basement stairs screaming hysterically for her brother.
Edgar raised an eyebrow from his place on the couch, a lit cigarette between his lips as he paused in his current activity of idly flipping through TV channels.
"What is it?" He asked, exhaling the smoke in her direction as he set the remote down. "You look like you just saw an acceptance speech coming from Stephanie."
"There's dead people in our basement!" She nearly screamed, grabbing Edgar by the soulders and shaking him.
Edgar didn't say anything, he just let Ellen shake him and scream again in shock and fear.
"So what?" He decided to speak then once Ellen had stopped shaking him vigorously. "There's been dead people down therw before, people think this place is abandoned so they dump bodies and dead strays here if they're too cheap to pay for an actual burial."
The male shrugged it off, trying his hardest to not look his sister in the eyes.
If he looked at her she'd know the truth.
"But they're all people we know Edgar."
Edgar kept his eyes down, trying his hardest to act like he didn't care.
"I know it was you who killed them."
Fucking bloody hell.
"It's better off this way. Better that I won't get a chance to get better," Edgar stated, pressing his hand against the glass pane that seperated him from his twin as he sat in an orange plastic chair, a cheap pay phone pressed to his ear with his shoulder as he looked out from the prisoner visitation hallway.
"But why'd you do it? Why'd you kill all the kids who bullied me and Mrs. Jokowski" Ellen whispered softly, her hand coming up to press against the glass in a similar fashion to Edgar's as she spoke into the receiver of the phone.
"Because I love you and no one has the right to hurt you ever besides me."
"I love you too."
"May the devils be with you in the afterlife."
"I love you my dear sister."
"Your numbers up 87903." A male voice came on the overcom, the tone blank and uncaring.
In the middle of a white concrete walled room stood a teenager on his knees, his skin paper white and his hair as black as night.
"Give me your worst." The figure ground out through grit teeth, his voice gravely and low.
The sound of air whishing through the room was heard and Edgar's top half jerked forward harshly, his body folding in half at the waist to where his forehead touched the ground.
His body stayed like that for a few moments, falling to the side with a sickening thumping sound only to not move as it layed still on the ground.
"Prisoner number 87903 has been eliminated, clearing the area for prisoner number 68453." A male voice stated into a walkie talkie, the tone void of all emotion.
"I repeat prisoner number 87903 has been successfully killed."
But Edgar had been dead long before then.
'Never again, never again. They gave us two shots to the back of the head, now we're all dead.'