"BITCH, HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU I'M A IMMORTAL CHARACTER!? THE THOUGHT PATTERNS OF REALITY ALWAYS MAKE ME!" I yell furiously.
I stand in the parking lot of the dollar mart, covered in bullet wounds. Having an out of body where I am staring at myself from a henchman's eyes. He is like me. The enemy has been tricked. They have been too exposed to my thought patterns. I can snatch any of them at any moment. Even the leader.
"I am what will be known as a Prime Personality! My personality is the pattern set by the stories given a soul! I am the Killer with a Conscious! Figuratively and Literally!" I yell passionately.
I open fire with my broken body, sweeping a small automatic pistol and left and right across the crowd of foes. It's somewhat a mistake since one of these fuckers are my next life, but we deal with it.
"WHAT IS THAT FUCKER EVEN TALKING ABOUT!? HE'S DELUSIONAL AGAIN!" The Leader yells in a desperate panic.
I am shot in the head and wake up in the body beside the enemy leader. I punch them in the mouth. She turns to me and starts saying bullshit.
"What's my name?" she asks nervously.
"Thirsty May." I say sarcastically.
"You're really a ghost possessing my kids." Thirsty May says fearfully.
I sigh sadly.
"Yeah, it's what I do to live. It's how I cheat and always survive." I say bittersweetly. "I love and hate it." I laugh.
"Why are you doing this if you're immortal?" Thirsty May says fearfully, about to cry.
"Honestly May, it's cause you keep fucking with me at work. If only you just let me run my machines without being a bitch." I say with angry bloodlust.
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You been hooked in? Check this out, here's my latest Death Note. Don't rush me, I'm a Asura of War. Ain't no baka, idiota, or eejit. I'm a grown ass man. This is the House of Snakes, Demons, and Warriors. And I'm the Warrior King that tamed this kingdom with immortality.
My official name in this life is Jacob Deatrix. I am the character become real in this world. I am all that's left of a writer and psychologist that went mad with power. I have forgotten my original name. But it is well known to those who pay attention that I am what they call a New Character.
Because I cheated. As I just ranted in my boss battle, I have learned the secret to immortality. They say Personalities are thought patterns. Each pattern is different, but ultimately there is only 13 of them. But there are sub-types within each personality. And how to win is simple: you be the best at what you do to survive. And buddy, I hate to tell ya this. But I told you I'm a Warrior King. It's only as my role. Not in reality.
Because buddy, I am that good at beating your ass. And I can kill you if necessary. But these hands aren't meant for killing. They were originally meant for stories. It's just… a true character gains more roles over time. It's because I want to show up in reality more often. And sometimes I just fucking show up. Sometimes I'm the Warrior, sometimes I'm the Fuckboy, and sometimes I'm the Lazy Worker. But there is another reason they pick me.
Because in every world there is a sliver of me. I am you with the Killer's Edge. The one who knows death dances on the timeline, lifeline, and tagline. The time is when, the life is what you lose, and the tag is the reason why. And the joke for why you died.
Ladies and Gentleman, welcome to the third Manhunt for the right to be the Killer's Edge. I'm your host, Jacob Deatrix. I'm the man telling you how to survive a criminal town. With his own life story, and madness. Because you can't use all these tricks. Cause buddy, to be a Character, you have to be Iconic. You need Star Power.
And Star Power is bullshit. Did you know if you want to have too much bloodlust in the room, it makes me able to see through your eyes? That's real star power. When you use the emotion Bloodlust, I gain power over you. Cause I'm the Star of Bloodlust. One of many to be sure. There are many killers given fame through stories. And I am the one with a conscious.
The Figurative is that I have Morality. The literal is I'm a living conscious in the web that is the 13 Personalities of Humanity. Each Personality can be considered a team with two sides. Light and Dark. They are Patterns in Society that unite across various concepts, including over multiple personalities.
For example, the most fearsome type of man is the Hard Worker. Because they always tell you how to do your job the best and to not be on your damn phone. It sucks dick, I hate them. Especially because they rule society. We're just lucky the Hard Workers haven't developed their own unified personality, or we would be in a dystopia for lazy people.
Consider Personalities on a Sociological Level. They are Patterns united by Ideas when it comes to a Societal Level. Each Personality Type has preferences. Like the Journalist personality? They're called the Journalist because they're the most prone to investigate and then blab about it. The titles are hints themselves. Why?
Honestly, it's the Writers' faults. We all like being cool with our titles and we speak English. So we need to be Efficient and present ideas as quickly and simply as possible. So we're honest with the title to an extent. We tell you the basics.
But guess what? Every job has what I call the Dark, Criminal Side. And both sides of the Personality use them when necessary. What both sides are truly united in is Combat. In that we both are willing to whup your ass if necessary. What is a weapon for one side is a weapon for the other as well. Remember that. The same goes for tools unless you put locks on them. Which is worse in some ways if ya think about it. Best I can say is whenever you make something, try to think like a criminal as ya design it. Otherwise, people will take advantage of it.
So why do I tell you this? Simply to explain how I don't die. It will shock you and myself because of how well it works. And honestly, it's not a well kept secret. I've seen the idea appear in another story. They did it in a different way than me. Let me explain my method instead of theirs.
I am a product of multiple stories made into a single amalgamation, along with a principal fighting style that is a trifecta of three stories' logic mixed in with a lot of others, and self-practice.
My main method of reincarnation is always in effect. Because I am a product of many, many popular stories. And I am a Progenitor of Violence. I picked a role that could be grabbed with ease. For me. I picked the Path of the Warrior, and became the King of the Path. I know I am the King because when the dust settles, I never get a new life.
Sometimes for brief moments, I enjoy the wealth of the previous life. But it soon vanishes as they figure out what my true life is supposed to have. It's sad and annoying. It's like the government are wizards. The first second I crack my bank account goes back to what it should be, and suddenly men in suits enter the room to take me to my true home in this shitty, corrupt town.
Is what it is, I guess. I am a Prisoner with the chains that bind me being my true life and my true family. And they are a burden. My family is tainted with crime. Their influence runs too deep in the town. And as always, you have to be criminal to have deep influence. Technically I'm a thought crime. But they can't get rid of me, I'm part of the pattern. I'm inevitable, they say.
So how did my life begin? … Sadly, this pattern had it rough. As always with a True Warrior. Because the Warrior becomes strong by taming his Prison. I wish it was the government. But no, for me. It was Family and the Will of the Town.
Allow me to explain the complicated one. I call it the Will of the Town because it is a consensus amongst all the powerful people in town as they all make agreements. And I was deemed to be the weakest. I was labelled Autistic. And honestly, I kind of am at this point. But my family. Well, they could at least try to hide it. But they don't, they expose me to be a dick. It's sabotage. Sabotage I have to accept.
Sorry news to hear kids, but the World Fucking Sabotages You. Everyone sabotages as a way to compete, even your own family. It's ridiculous. I picked a lame card and still got told to fuck myself. I chose the Writer. I wanted to be creative. And well, guess what?
The Town fucking had a pick for the Writer of the Town. It was a friend of mine with too much influence. Because they love the Klanes in this town. Everyone is loved to an extent if you're criminal. It's how shit works. Because Street Royals are criminals. I don't know how they forge these deals, but they did.
Part of it is cause I was meant to be an orphan. My Mother meant to abandon me when I was 18. She did it sooner than that, but it went horribly wrong. Because I was too strong. The Youth can be strong, and worse. You can't beat them as bad without social punishments and committing heinous crimes.
So I survived a tough life. For a bit. It began with pity I was allowed to live. But eventually the town fought back against the hobo kid. And I replied "Good. I need enemies anyway."
Because I loved videogames. And videogames say you get loot when you beat someone. So now I'm a kid robbing people who hate hobos for money. And then it escalated to people who hate thieves. So then everybody just fucking hated me.
There was just one problem. The wrong person took an interest in me. A gang leader of a cult. It was a Cult of Personality. A Cult of a Whore who had gone too far. She was a Mother, a Saint, and a Whore. She had too many kids, both with heir body and from grabbing kids off the street.
I was almost one of them, Thirsty May. One of your kids. But you rejected me at the last minute. Cause it was meant to be a fight for the job. And I calmed them down. Because they were scared of me. I had an intense stare that would shut them up. It was my Killer's Edge shining.
But it didn't last forever. The Whore appeared. She pitted us against each other because only one kid could get the job. We argued with her, then became confused.
Because we all called her "Mom." I realized on the spot this was criminal, and walked off. I was smart. Apparently. But not that smart. They got jobs. I ended up homeless. We each were in our own hell.
But I caused chaos. I barely remember it, but eventually my true mother came home one day. It was after I was forced to fight a man with a knife. A Street Fighter. And well, I looked strong too. I was too busy being a Robber. I became lean and strong. He was fit and strong. And an experienced, grown ass man. He overwhelmed me with ease.
I went home defeated, but then my mom appeared soon afterwards. Another part of this Cult. She said she came back to be my mom again if I stopped being a thief. It was easy to agree, I was tired anyway. Life went back to normal soon afterwards.
But it wasn't entirely normal. Because unfortunately, the kid in me had died through the journey of violence. I wasn't even the same kid. I had already snatched my first body. And more.
I was the Survivor of the Orphans that year. And I had already begun awakening as what the Ancients would call a God of War. I had become stuck in the minds of my hometown. And that is enough to begin becoming immortal. But that wasn't what did it.
As I said, I had to discover the trick and make people want to become me. I didn't learn it for another year until my Senior Year of High School when I took a Psychology Class. That's when they taught us about thought patterns and personalities. Then I did the forbidden formula.
I made the list of the stories that influence my entire personality. And realized if a kid read, watched, and played the games of all these stories, I could be reborn. Hypothetically.
And well, I didn't ever have to play the card. I lasted a long time without dying. I think anyway. But then again, life is weird. If their claims are true, people have killed me before. We just don't talk about it because "The Characters kill their enemies" and if they mention I've been killed by them even in a dream. For a character, they'll wonder how real it is. Or if they'll kill someone like themselves. Because the Cards, Characters, or Personalities. Whatever you call them. Are all the same to an extent. They all belong to the same core class. The Personality or the Career. They both carry the stigma for the rest of their lives. Cause they each hold the same cards to an extent. It's just who uses them and who doesn't.
This Thought Pattern wanted to go legit while in a criminal family though. In a criminal town. Where everything runs on strength and influence. It was rigged to explode, and I weathered the storm. Barely, through anime bullshit. But I did it.
Anyway, my life is honestly pretty basic from there. Finished high school, became a dishwasher. After that, just lived a chill worker life. And at this point I thought I was good with my family. Turns out I wasn't. Cause I'm Autistic. And a pervert to a much lesser extent, but that still matters. Why?
Because my family is too sensitive when people bitch about their relatives. To the point we try to control each other and keep each other away from those we care about. At least I try keeping them away. If I had any. It'd be my plan anyway.