The Villager threw a hatchet at a Necromorph's face, causing the monstrosity to slowly die as it crawled across the space station to get to him. Never failing to keep his smile intact, the Villager placed a net over the Necromorph's head before tearing the hatchet off, retrieving his item and splicing the monster's face in half.
2XXX, a year that had a smugly vague date. Monsters filled space stations, and now there were men attempting to take down the Villager. Fully armed and trained for their entire lives to kill the Villager once and for all, they were meant to be humanity's answer to the terror of the insanely powerful being. The Villager, being even more of a threat than the Necromorph infestation, wore a belt that hung some of his victim's heads.
"Fire!" Some men yelled before launching swarms of bullets at the Villager.
The Villager, however, did not want to hear them talk any further. He was having a good enough time getting rid of Necromorphs. He was doing good for the side of humanity, and yet, they did not appreciate him. It was time to pull off a tea party.
Catching all of the bullets, the Villager continued to smile as he unleashed every single bullet that had been shot at him. Most of the humans instantly died, though there was one particularly unlucky soldier.
"Help!" The man cried, but his pleas were unheard.
The Villager, carrying a hatchet and a shovel, walked over to the frightened soldier, who began to shoot at him with the last of his ammunition. Yet again, the Villager caught the bullets, though he did not send them out on the man. The man crawled backwards, but no matter how much he tried, he could not go through the wall that stood behind him.
Raising his hatchet and shovel high in the air, the Villager mercilessly swung the tools down, decapitating the last soldier.
Now, he was all alone again. The soldiers died like animals crossing farms littered with chainsaw traps. The Necromorphs died like there was no tomorrow. Isaac Clarke's eyes were stabbed by the Villager's needles, and the end of humanity dawned closer.
And slowly, the Villager turns to you, his eyes f ina ll y rev e al in g his púpi l̛s͟,͏ ͘ ̀wh ic͜ h con ͏t͘ a̷ i̷ned̨ ̕t͠h͟ e ͢ver̀ ̀y̛ ̶hea͏ ̛r̴t of ͞m͠a dn ͠ess͜ ̴w͘i ̸thin. ͜Wi͞th̢ ͞a wo̴n͏de͟rf̨u͞l͢ ̀şmi͜le,̷ ͘the͞ V̧illag̢er lo͟ok̛s ͏i҉nto youŕ ̕e͡y͘é a͞s̕ he ask̛e̢d̵-
-.-.-.-.-
"Hey, Villager!"
The Villager woke up. He found himself sitting underneath a tree he planted much earlier that day. He saw Sonic far away from him with a happy grin, motioning him to follow the hedgehog.
The Villager happily nodded, getting up on his two feet. Petting the tree he planted, he began to follow Sonic and leave the plant he took care of.
The plant which stood above piles of dead bodies.
Just kidding, he would never do that!
He would never do that.
Never.