Disclaimer: The following story is going to contain many different references and usages of characters from a variety of popular sources – Which are obviously not mine. Original characters and situation are mine, unless otherwise noted. This is intended on being a humourous fiction, parodying many things. You've been warned. ;
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The following document contains classified information.
Authorized personal only.
The name's Chance.
Female, if you wanted to know. Young, ambitious, and maybe a little dangerous. Or maybe not.
If you're reading this, odds are you're a military personal, or else have stolen this file from security in some way. In case of the latter, I'm inclined to congratulate you. It's not just anyone that gets to have this little insight into some of the more… hidden aspects of life.
I belong to a secret underground organization whose main goal is to preserve order in the many different planes of existence out there. Everything is to held in a fine balance, following a delicate path that when strayed from too far, can be rather… devastating. Very similar to the lay lines that flow beneath the surface of our world, these paths are interconnected to all things, and thus, any damage to them, results in negative effects everywhere. Each plane connects to another, and as a result are all part of a fragile equilibrium.
So the theory goes.
I don't care for the fine mechanics of theories myself. Getting the job done, and done right, is the only thing that matters to me. And I'm proud to say I've never failed. I'm not just good at what I do – I'm very good.
Top in my class back in my training days, and now I'm part of what most would consider the Elite. My rank? Lieutenant. My job?
Mary Sue.
It's a heavy burden to take on. Losing yourself to a stranger's form, sometimes as different from your true self as could possible be. It's always a fear at the back of your mind that once you take on a Mary Sue's shape you'll never return to your own. So many of us bare the stigma of past transformations that refuse to fully leave us - myself included. I'll see old pictures of myself and notice from time to time how my hair seems darker, my hands slimmer, and even how my expressions aren't quite the same as they used to be. It's like drinking a slow acting poison but instead of sickness and death, this little drink causes the fate of total uncertainty.
There are those who went too far in a job, and never came back. Trapped in a form they couldn't escape from until the instincts and mannerisms of that form overwhelmed then, and they lost themselves to vapidity, angsty and more.
We always remember those who have fallen in the line of duty. Because, we will honour them forever.
And because, it's our duty to kill them.
The balance of the planes don't always tip themselves towards chaos, you see. There are those out there, standing at the edges, just waiting to push…those that corrupt, those that destroy. Who time and time again target us during a mission, just waiting for one of us to fall victim to our own transformations. Many a past agent who has become trapped has been swiftly corrupted by the others. And with the skills we possess… the organization can't afford to have rogue 'Sue's running around, undoing what many have given their lives for.
Harsh Laws. But that's one of the few reasons why the world still works.
The following pages following this document contain a brief report of my experiences as a Mary Sue, in the line of duty. Pursue them with caution, and treat them with respect.
These are the investigative files of a Mary Sue.
- Lieutenant Chance