The Last Prank

Chapter One: She Suffered

Seven days had passed. Not even Pet would go near the pale, decaying heap that once was Ellen. Edgar stared as maggots wriggled out of the gapping wound on Ellen's foot that had led to her tragic death at the age of seventeen. He sat in the corner of his living room hugging his knees against his chest. What a way to spend spring break- mourning the demise of your twin sister- the only family Edgar had and would ever 's eyes were red and stung unbearably. He had cried so hard and for so long, his tear ducts ran completely dry. The overwhelming stench of rotting flesh did not help. Even still, Edgar could not bring himself burry her- not quite yet. Ellen's death had been a slow, agonizing one. The trouble started a month or so back during one of their frequent searches through the "gadget graveyard." The twins trudged through the garbage, hoping to find some good prank material. The soles fell off Ellen's last pair of shoes and she was forced to walk barefoot until another discarded pair came her way (the twins acquired all their clothes by dumpster diving except for their beloved childhood footie pajamas- that they had sewn into hoodies after they grew too tall for them in eighth grade). She accidentally stepped on a shard of metal poking through the muck- a car part from what Edgar could tell. Ellen bled for hours. Edgar was forced to stitch her up seemed well. Ellen had trouble walking for a while, but the wound eventually closed and Edgar removed the stitches. It was then he noticed the scar formed was an odd shade of purple. He thought nothing of this at first. The orphaned twins had lived in squalor throughout their entire child hood and had built quite a strong immune system. This time, however, Ellen was not so fortunate. The wound on her foot became infected. Thick yellow puss oozed from the scar. Her entire leg became discolored. After three weeks, she could no longer walk on it. She howled in agony every time she put pressure on her foot. Using Edgar as a crutch, Ellen hobbled her way to the local hospital. The doctors refused to treat her because the twins had no medical insurance. They returned to the hospital every day for three days straight, begging for treatment, but eventually the cops were called and the twins were thrown out. Infuriated, Edgar brought Ellen back to the mansion to dig up some spring balm in the basement. The balm had kept Pet and Augustus Nod alive for centuries. Surely, its healing properties would kill off Ellen's infection- or so Edgar had hoped. Alas, the infection had spread too far and Augustus's greedy mining of the balm left the twins with hardly any to use on themselves. Left without treatment, Ellen went into severe toxic shock and died.

Edgar's initial reaction was hysteria. He grabbed an aluminum bat and raced throughout every floor of the mansion, smashing anything and everything he could swing at. All his inventions he tinkered with over the years laid scattered throughout the house in pieces. Paintings, statues, furniture, animal trophies, appliances, windows even his satchel case- wrecked! He destroyed it all, unable to control his rage. Heimertz tackled Edgar before he could mangle their beds and put the screaming boy in a headlock until he passed out. The shock wore off once he awoke. It was replaced with deep, inconsolable sadness. Given a choice between the hysteria and sadness, Edgar would have gladly chosen the hysteria. Edgar covered his ears. He could still hear her, whaling, begging for the pain to go away. Only the sweet release of death silenced her. Now she lies on the floor, propped up against the stairs. Rigormortis caused her limbs to freeze in a sick, contorted pose. Her lifeless eyes bulged open, but sunk in just a little more every day. Crust formed on the corners of her slightly agape lips. Edgar wanted so badly to turn his head, but he could not look away from his poor, poor nudged his side. Edgar scratched the fuzzy creature on the back of his singular eye. "We have to put her to rest, Pet." He whispered. "She deserves a proper burial."Edgar stood, then cautiously walked over to Ellen. He grabbed her by the feet and dragged her off. He cringed every time her stiff body made a thud against the floor or furniture. Pet followed Edgar towards the front door.

Once opened, Edgar spotted two official-looking envelopes on the front step. He grabbed them and jammed them into his grubby jeans pocket. The mail would have to wait until later. Startled, Edgar screamed as a strange gasping noise caught his ear. He knelt down and began to shake Ellen's corpse. She gasped for breath! He heard it!"Sister!" He shouted to her. "Sister! Tell me you're alive! For the love of Christ, tell me you're alive!"Another gasp escaped Ellen's throat. Edgar's eyes watered. Her breath smelled horrendous. Edgar dropped her corpse. She was not alive, as he had so desperately prayed for. It was just the gasses forming in her decaying stomach escaping. Disappointed, he marched onward. Shedding silent tears, Edgar grabbed a shovel leaning against Heimertz's shack. He caught a glimpse of the large, frightening groundskeeper through the window. Heimertz had not smiled since Ellen's death. His wide toothy grin was replaced with a heavy, mournful frown. His eyes fixated in an accusing stare. The frown made Heimertz all the more terrifying to Edgar. At least the display of remorse showed the Gardner had loved the twins. That sentiment was a slight picked a spot in the gadget graveyard, next to Bernice, Ellen's favorite carnivorous plant. Even Bernice seemed to wilt with sadness as Edgar dug Ellen's grave. Panting heavily, Edgar tossed the shovel aside and crawled out of the freshly dug hole. He bent down to grab Ellen, but paused. He couldn't burry her. He couldn't push her in that ditch. He couldn't cover her face with dirt. He couldn't accept the death of his only backed away. Something needed to be said before the earth took her- something touching, meaningful... "You were the best, sister." Was all Edgar could come up with. "No prank is worth executing without you."

Still desperate to stall, Edgar reached inside his pocket and pulled out the envelope. He opened the one addressed to Ellen first. It was an acceptance from Nod's Limbs Community College. All her hard work and studying paid off. She had won the scholarship. She would be able to earn a degree in biology and botany. He opened the one addressed to him. It was another acceptance letter. Edgar had earned a different technology and mathematics scholarship for an engineering couldn't help but laugh. Oh the irony of it all! Their whole child hoods, the twins were expected to be nothing but failures because of the unfortunate circumstances of their residency in Nod's Limbs. Seventeen years spent as untouchables inspired the twins to make straight A's and earn every scholarship imaginable so they could have the chance to apply their talents in the working world and live normal, productive lives just as their classmates were guaranteed (with half the work). Finally, they had the chance of their lives and Ellen was not alive to take it. His laughter turned into sobs.

Edgar ripped the letters into shreds and threw them in the snatched the shovel off the ground and raised it above his head. "It's not FAIR!" He cried. "I TOLD YOU WE SHOULD HAVE LOOKED FOR THE BALM FIRST! WHY? WHY DID YOU GO WITHOUT ME, ELLEN? WE WERE SUPPOSED TO GRADUATE TOGETHER! WE WERE SUPPOSED TO GET OUR BACHELOR'S DEGREES! WE WERE SUPPOSED TO GET OUT OF THIS SUGAR CUBE TOWN! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO LIVE!"He swung down hard, bashing Ellen's face in. Maggots pored out of her cracked skull. Edgar dropped the shovel and screamed. He scooped up her body in his arms, hugging her tightly as he wept on her scalp. "I'm sorry, sister!" He sobbed heavily, ignoring the hunks of brains leaking down his shirt. "I'm so sorry!"He apologized for every prank he chose to pull on her and not on a more deserving victim. He apologized for every hurtful thing he had ever said to her, even if it was all in good fun. He apologized for not helping her as he felt he should have, and allowing her life to end this way. Pet did not blink once during this whole looked into the black, filthy whole. The darkness called to her. Its beckoning gave Edgar the worst chill down his spine, then again, that cold could have been the corpse. He took a moment to fix Ellen's pigtails- a hairstyle she received the worst ridicule from Stephanie for wearing, but refused to take them out. With a quivering sigh, he gently placed Ellen's body inside and covered her up with dirt. He had to pause and pull Pet out of the grave a few times. "Stay!" Edgar ordered. "You can't follow her where's she's going."Once completely filled in, Pet nestled himself on the mound of dirt. He shifted the loose soil with his tendrils. "No, Pet" Edgar snapped. "She's not coming back!"He collapsed on the ground, struggling to regulate his breathing. His hands quivered as if disgusted with themselves for performing such a ghastly deed.

He sat and stared at the grave for a long while before finally deciding it was time to go back inside. He told Pet to come along, but the creature would not budge. Edgar decided it was best to leave Pet on the grave. He would figure out Ellen was never going to wake up spent the rest of the night searching for something to use a tombstone. He settled on a large vase Ellen had intended to use for Bernice before she died. He chiseled her epithet with a butter knife before marking her grave. It read-

"Ellen Born 1992 Died 2009 A true diamond in the rough."

A/n: This was originally going to be a one shot, but I don't have the time to finish it all tonight. Instead, this will be a two parter. Just for the record, I do not wish this fate on Edgar and Ellen and I doubt Charles Ogden would ever let such a terrible thing happen to them. However, even beneath his delightful humor, Edgar and Ellen are such tragic characters. They are orphans living in a town that does not appreciate or nurture their genius. They're thin, pale, sickly children with no one in the world but each other. They have no money, no reliable source of food, clothing or medicine. They're practically hobos and will most likely die at very young ages because of their poverty-stricken existences. I'm sorry, the world is just a horrible place like that. If this wasn't heart wrenching enough, it gets worse from here.