-Can't be Erased-
Written to 'Bendy and the Ink Machine - Can't be Erased'
GAME OVER!
Would You Like to Restart?
Yes/No
Glancing at the screen in front of me I blinked for a second before reaching up and carefully tapping the glowing 'No' where it floated in front of me, I had a pretty good idea of what had happened, An angry young man with a chip on his shoulder had shot me because of my work uniform.
Despite what Hollywood said it hadn't been a quick or clean passing, I remember being in in pain, in shock, the frantic efforts of a rather pretty young officer that had been first on the scene, the EMT ride to the emergency room, fading in and out in surgery and finally the pain fading away before I found myself here with some asshat asking if I wanted to do it all over again.
-What?-
Glancing up at the confused word that was now floating in front of me I shrugged again and turned to take stock of where I was now. "Don't feel like doing it all over again, ninety percent of the shit sandwiches I had to eat were outside of my control so even if I did things different I'd still be stuck eating the same thing," I said before shrugging again and laying down on the floor with a sigh "I'm tired of making chicken salad out of chicken shit, send me on my way if you please."
After a moment of silence the words seemed waver in place before a small glowing form stepped out of them and stood over me prone form with their hands on their hips with a scowl. "What do you think you are doing?" it demanded as I once more shrugged in place.
"Either this is real and I'm dead, in which case I'm not at all excited about going through all that over again. Or this is a story that I'm currently writing in which case I used a real event with a different ending in which case I'm an asshat and I refuse to be the pawn of an asshat, even if said asshat is my own self." I explained before looking at the glowing form with a single raised eye for several seconds before it shimmered into a slightly older form of my own self and simply flopped to the ground beside me with a grunt.
"Do I have to be such an asshole?" my older self grumbled darkly before laying back in the darkness "So what do you want to play ball and stop stalling the damn story?"
Snorting at that I glanced over at myself "We already know what we want."
"Yeah but we're fucking with the fourth wall here, the readers don't know me so stop acting like an ass and get on with it." My Author self groused as I nodded at that.
"Fine, Fine to avoid typing out a shit-ton of poorly thought out naval gazing to explain things I want regeneration so I stop hurting all the damn time, an 'Instant Dungeon' ability so I can act out without getting in trouble." I asked as my older self nodded in acceptance.
"That everything? No sexy harem or world conquering powers?"
For a moment I considered it before shrugging my shoulders once again "You know I'd like a companion so I'm not alone. But we both know I have no clue how to write that without them being a cardboard cutout with the emotional range of a tuna. No, healing and 'ID Create' is plenty to start me off with."
My author self nodded in understand before turning look at me "I gotta ask, do you want to go back home?"
"Who won the election?"
"Does it matter?"
"Fuck it, I always wanted to travel."
"Liar."
As the dark realm I had found myself in faded away I couldn't help but feel that I was going to be an asshole to myself in some way.
I also had the feeling I needed to come up with some more descriptive terms for when I talk to myself.
I found myself standing in an alley away from the flow of traffic in a pair of tighty-whithies and a pair of pink bedazzled crocs with a small black leather wallet tucked into the elastic band.
Opening the wallet I found a universal ID and a universal Bank Card inside along with a small smug note to myself about being an ass.
Fortunately I had set myself down outside of a 'Goods Will' store, taking a deep breath to settle my nerves I strode out into the foot traffic outside the alley and without a single note given to the gasps of the populace at my appearance I entered the used clothing store and headed for the Men's clothes section.
Snagging a white Tee-shirt off the fifty cent stand and Popping the tag off a pair of faded work jeans in my size I slipped into the dressing room and quickly robed myself.
In short order I had clothes, socks and a Pair of worn out boots from the shoe section in my size as I stood before the glaring cashier "Sorry, some of my friends decided to haze me by stealing my clothes and shoving me out of the car." I said with an embarrassed chuckle that caused the older woman to simply huff in acceptance before handing me my recipe.
"You might need some better friends young man." She said glancing at her I finally saw the pop up atop her head -Mary Withins Lvl 9 Merchant- as I accepted her advice and after dropping the horrific pair of crocs in the donation bin outside I glanced around, so long as my gaze was sweeping the multitude of pop-ups that should exist were unnoticeable, should I focus on someone though, say for example the man in a grey wool suit on the corner.
-John O'Dell Lvl 25 Regional Manager-
Or the cute brunette down the street.
-Alice Cleek, Lvl 7 Street Walker*-
Glancing at the asterisk symbol at the end I found a list of sexually transmitted diseases and odds that I would contact such in the event I used her services.
Shaking my head I turned and walked down the street, stopping to grab a soda from a vending machine before I took a seat and began to focus on people as they passed.
-Davis Taylor Lvl 11 Unemployed-
-Andy Nelson Lvl 5 Cabby-
-Richard Harper Lvl 10 Construction worker-
-Reba Bonney Lvl 19 Corporate Thug-
-Sissi Fox Lvl 21 ?-
-John Wells Lvl 14 Spokesperson-
-Kayla Rasch Lvl 8 Accountant-
-Observe has leveled up, you may now see more details.-
Smiling at that I took a sip of my drink as I glanced at the next person to catch my eye.
-Oliver 'He who Seeks the Dark' Chapman, Lvl 25 Dock Hand-
Werewolf
I very carefully swallowed the fizzy soda in my mouth and turned away from the monster in human flesh and spent several seconds staring at the traffic as it zoomed past.
Thanking carefully I tried to put the pieces together, a Werewolf of any sort was bad news for me, if it was grimdark like the White Werewolf series there was already probably a dozen elder gods circling in looking for my head.
If I was someplace like Underworld then the Vampires were the power behind the scene and bad things were about to happen.
If I was somewhere like Twilight…
I shuddered at that thought before glancing back towards the werewolf and froze.
-Agent 'OH SHIT ITS' Franks Lvl ? Problem Solver-
'NOT' a Flesh Golem
Franks was currently staring at me from the far side of the intersection, Agent Franks was currently staring at me from across an intersection.
Let me make this clear.
AGENT FREAKING FRANKS WAS STARING AT ME FROM ACROSS THE INTERSECTION!
I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I was a dead man, Franks would pop my head off like a bottle cap and use my twitching corpse for spare parts.
For a moment I lost sight of him as a panel van moved through the intersection and then he was there, right next to the goddamn bench in his FBI special issue suit and ten bajillion levels of god killer strength.
Without a word the man/thing sat down on the bench next to me and simple stared at me.
Imagine that for a moment, the supernatural equivalent of a walking, talking atomic bomb just sat down next to me and was currently staring at the side of my head.
"You Know Who I Am?"
For a brief slice of time I considered lying, saying I had no idea, selling him a story that he looked like my uncle Danny from out in Washington.
I also considered screaming in terror, pissing my pants and passing out.
I'll be honest at the moment the second option seemed far more reasonable all things considered.
Taking a shaky pull from the soda I nodded, a small dribble of grape soda ran out the side of my lips and dripped down onto the white shirt I was wearing before I cleared my throat "A-agent Franks of the FBI"
For a short eternity he stared at me before turning to the street as a nondescript Crown Vic pulled to a stop "Get in"
He wasn't forceful or rude but I was well aware that no matter my opinion of the matter my future lay in taking a ride in that car.
I would get in, or he would get me in.
Draining the last of the grape soda I did what I was told.
"It's locked from the inside." Jerking my head from the door I looked at the driver as he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "I've seen people that Franks has picked up before, most of them would rather take their chances with the pavement, the doors lock from the inside now."
In the passenger seat Franks grunted and continued to stare out the window, there was probably a story there.
It was probably one I really didn't want to hear.
Leaning back I took a moment to look at the other Agent.
-Charles Dunn Lvl 37 FBI-
Human
A click pulled my attention back to Franks and I gulped as a massive revolver was pointed at me, apparently Franks could tell when I used Observe and was not pleased by it one bit.
The rest of the ride was in silence, in short order we had arrived and I got to sit through me first 'Sally Port' procedure, as we sat in the secure section that made sure you couldn't run out when a car drove in I tried to figure out where it had all gone wrong.
The answer of course was 'The moment I decided to write a self insert' story I spent the rest of the time ion the car cursing myself for being so stupid..
In short order we had parked and I was extracted from the car and quick marched through the Federal building to a rather pleasant but all the same intimidating interview room with a very formal lady sitting across from me with a stack of papers that I could smell the warm ink on.
"Good evening Justin, do you mind if I call you Justin?" she asked and smiled professionally when I nodded, "Excellent, I'm Agent Abigail MacArthur and I'll be your interviewer today."
Glancing at her I sighed and leaned back in the seat "once you're caught in a lie you lose all rapport with your interviewee, your name is Dorothy Gale Doolin and you're a Special Agent, you specialize in psychological responses under stress, you can evaluate me through the glass if you want but you don't have a chance in hell of me opening up to you now."
After a moment she stood from the table and left, brushing past Franks as he entered and took the seat across from me, carefully glancing over the file they had on me before closing the Manilla folder and simply raising an eyebrow at me. "At no point in time am I going to lie to you, If you don't answer my questions I fully plan to twist your appendages off one by one until I get the answer I want from you, should you die before I get the answer I want I will have a necromancer the Agency keeps on staff resurrect you and we will begin again, do you understand me?"
At my nod Franks leaned forward with a glare "tell me what you know."
"Dippel, Kurst, Project Nemesis-"
Anything else I could have said was interrupted by Franks hand lashing out like lightning and my whole world going dark.
(A/n) I do not own the 'Life is a Game' or Monster Hunter International