Omsk Bird, Pure Imagination

A/N: This was made randomly, based on the Omsk Bird and Preved/Medved memes.

Disclaimer: Metro 2033 is the property of Dmitry Glukhovsky and 4A Games. No copyright infringement intended.

A lonely traveler was walking rails on the Metro, whistling some old Soviet tunes. The cold dank tunnels, the mutated monsters, the weird phenomena, the squabbling human factions, the scarce resources, the poor living conditions, the cutthroat existence, and the lack of sunlight were normal realities for him and the remaining pockets of humanity living in underground of Moscow.

So he was surprised but not totally taken aback when a red mist surrounded him. The temperature was making gradual descent to cold and he stopped whistling about how Stalin's artillery obliterated Hitler's legions into a red splat.

"Uh... Hello?" Then he noticed a glowing crimson light spilling in the distance. He was stiff, not an inch of his body moved as the mysterious and mesmerizing light kept its hold on him. A gasped escape his mouth as the swirling glowing light coalesced into something more corporeal.

With a hum the swirling mass of light and fog brightened up until it erupted in a dull red flash, making him shield his eyes. Humming subsiding, he saw a figure standing in front. It was a bird, or what passes for one anyway. He looked like a red jay, but it seems like his skin or feathers were worn around him like a robe like an unholy monk and has a knapsack on his back. The most notable features were his eyes, they glow red and they seem to state into his soul.

"Oh my God..." He crossed himself as his wide eyes took in the mysterious, ominous bird-creature.

"God is dead, my friend," it said in a raspy voice seeming a choir of subtle murmurs of lost souls in despair or crying for release in full Dolby Surround with Siberian accent. He nearly pissed himself.

"W-wh-who a-a-are y-you?" he stammered.

"I am the spirit of this dying world," he answered in his calm, detached, and creepy tone. "You people refer to me, a world ago, as Omsk Bird, the Winged Doom. We're you trying to leave?"

"Ah... Yes?" He gulped. "I'm just trying to get away from another battle between the Reds and Nazis."

He chuckled in cold amusement. "Silly man. Do you think you can find peace elsewhere? Try as you might, you can never leave this desolate reality, made possible by your race's hubris and pettiness. You reap what you sow, this cold dark tunnel that reflects the emptiness of your existence and the regrets you harbor. You cannot outrun this world, you can never leave it."

The giant bird's speech filled the man with sorrow. It was right. All life in the Metro is nothing more than struggle for existence, no higher aspiration. Such is life. Not enough MGR for greenhouse potato from Polis, is cold. All better days nothing more than hallucination from malnourish. Early death means suffering is over.

"Are you sad?" it asked, not letting go his soul stare.

The question suddenly filled him with depression. "Yes...?"

"Why...?"

"Because all my life I've searched for something to light up my day, something other than struggle for existence. I once thought I found a treasure trove with Japanese cartoon porn, all I got was Japanese cartoon porn girls with dicks!" He started crying. "No normal porn, just women with dicks!"

The bird smiled. "Kill your sorrow." Then the bird spread his left wing to reveal a holder of syringes.

He said ominously with his hand/wing raised, "Though you cannot escape this desolate place, I can give you something... which leads to a place of.. pure imagination."

"What are you... some sort of drug dealer?"

His voice raised, "IT DOES NOT MATTER WHO I AM... THE MATTER IS WHO CAN YOU BECOME" Then his voice returned to normal. He picked one and offered it to him.

One look at 'ringe and his eyes went wide, seemingly absorbed in awe at it. The plastic cylinder seemed to glimmer seductively, wanting him to touch it. His breath has slowed to a crawl as he could hear his own heartbeat. Vague, tantalizing forms move over the surface, like ghosts.

"So... pretty," he said, mesmerized.

"Make your choice," it whispered.

"I'll take some," he said gratefully, offering every MGR he had.

"Khorosho," chimed the bird. "Now we doing business. I need to reap children's souls from next station."

So the man who purchased the syringes, named suspiciously as Krokodil, tried them on to go to this place of pure imagination...

"Hey, Himeko~," greeted Chikane seductively, holding a flute. "It's time for music lessons."

"N-no! N-not the flute!" she screamed, shaking in terror as she triumphed over the milksop blond and began playing the flute in a special place.

"Yes! YES!" screamed the man in glee as Chikane began "music lessons." Shlick, shlick, shlick, shlick, shlick, shlick...

The reality...

He became bone thin with a smile on his face his continued to live in his fantasy world. He masturbated.

A day later...

He was huddled like a scared little boy as his hallucinations went from bad to worse. Still masturbated.

Two days later...

His eyes began to pop, his flesh began to rot and fall off, and his limbs too. Then tentacles emerge from his back and his skin turned scaly and all those cliches. And he masturbated.

ROAR!

A new kind of mutant was born!

-Do You Believe In Magic plays-

While a young couple was making love, he popped out of the ventilation shaft.

"(Preved!)Преве́д!" he shrieked, his scaly, spiky arms with their hideous claws raised. "I am медведь (Medved)!"

They screamed loudly as they gathered their clothes and ran for their lives, making passerby fap over them.

Newspaper headlines: A NEW MUTANT TERROR! THE MEDVED APEARS IN THE METRO!"

Inside an abandoned rail car, now home of a merchant, there was tapping on the window. This caused him to wake up and looked at the horrifying figure smiling menacingly at him.

"Dude! Let me in! I'm a Fairy!" it said, his wide eyes staring at him. The merchant winced.

"Don't you believe in fairies?"

A soul-rending scream woke the entire station up as the creature laughed away to the exit.

The creature did all kinds of horrible (and very stupid) atrocities wherever he went. He stole mushrooms and drugs, sometimes both at the same time. He urinated in public like a jackass. He butchered random passerby. He knocked his head on a pipe. He engaged in cannibalism and disorderly conduct and he's just plain ugly. One time, he ambushed a group of SJWs called the Truth Politics, doing X-rated things on them with his permanently-attached, codpiece, making wolf-whistles all around.

In his mind he was spreading joy to all the Metro like Haruhi Suzumiya. He believed in having a happy face, a happy smile, a happy point of view.

-Do You Believe in Magic stops-

The Polis Rangers were sent in to end his reign of terror but he was elusive as he was terrifying and annoying. Then they came up with an idea to kill once and for all - as well as lulz.

As he was swaggering down the rails, singing Pharrell's Happy. He saw a sign that, "Help us stop Radiation sickness. Take the warm bucket challenge."

He thought up in his minuscule intellect. "Hmm, seems like fun." He approached a conveniently set-up fire and pot. He carefully lifted the pot above his head and...

He activated a trip wire which sent a rail car hurtling towards his ass. He was flattened against the fender when it was crashed to halt, sending him flying to a nest of Snot-butts.

He looked all around and thought he made friends. He sang and danced Let's Build a Snowman!, much to the mutants aggravation. He was torn to shreds but he died in what he believed in: spreading happiness.

At the end of the show, Omsk finished chomping his pop corn and said, "Is good comedy, no?"

A/N: I was out of my mind when I made this. Possibly not my best. Also, don't do drugs. Krokodil is quite nasty stuff.