And it's not worth starting with this, but we'll have to continue ...

I stared at the TV for a very long time, watching everything that was shown there. The news is over, the snotty serials have begun. It's a pity for Melanie, she deserves more than a scoundrel like Ted. So he also took advantage of her father's death and fell in love with himself! The scoundrel!

Hmm... why am I watching this nonsense?

He even let out a tear... fuck! What the fuck! Damn zombie box!

From the tension, I barely hit the off button on the remote, and then I freaked out and pulled it out of the socket. Phew! It was close… Almost got sucked in… Um... it's time to do something. Movement is life, and in my case, necessity.

It is necessary to understand what to do next. Continue the old life? It's going to be funny now… I can now conduct all my experiments and not worry about safety... if the canon is close!

Fuck... how do I find out? Do I have the right powers? Does everything work?!

In the kitchen, he took a knife and bent over the sink.

Somehow it is necessary… Is that right? But... it's fucking scary!

With an inner shudder, he looked at the blade. Sharp... relatively. A kitchen knife. The most common kitchen knife that is used for cooking.

And now, he will act as a tool for experiments.

He put the tip to the palm of his hand. A little pressure... damn it, what am I doing? Not so necessary… Oh, not like that.

He put the blade to his palm. It will be easier this way.

Inhale, exhale.

Let's go!

He jerked the knife sharply.

- Ah! Fuck! It hurts!

Ahu... fuck… How so… A normal cut…

He looked at his palm with a look full of shock.

"This is not an ordinary cut..."

My palm... almost in two... what… How did I do that?! Mother of God... I almost cut off my hand!

Blood gushed, flooded the whole sink, but... that's not why I was dumbfounded and stared at my palm.

Muscles, bones, vessels… I saw with my own eyes and could hardly believe what I saw. Everything is healing before my eyes. The blood stopped gushing. In a few minutes, there was no trace of the wound. Generally. Not even a scar.

Amazing... and creepy.

Constantly looking at it... feeling the pain... feeling the regeneration happening. So you can go crazy... Oh, yeah. I'm supposed to be fucked up all over my head.

Damn... damn, damn, damn!

I grabbed my head.

It changes a lot… Am I... immortal? No… They will be able to kill… And patronage? They will cut off the head and no one will save it! Well, the body, in theory, can be regenerated or returned. And the brain? If they chop it into cabbage?! I'll definitely die! It is necessary to abandon the lost cause of the former owner!

What should I do personally?!

"U-u-u…"

I groaned.

Something needs to be done urgently... maybe get a job as a bouncer somewhere? My face is enough to scare any scumbag, and the abilities…

"U-u-u…"

What the fuck are the abilities?! I got NOTHING but the body! Maybe a suit... and a gun... and this hole... connections too... fuck!

There's nothing left but to accept fate... probably.

"Or not?"

Why do I need all the hemorrhoids? Well, a freak is yes, I'll fucking die... although with my luck everything can be. Even the worst of the options that I have already mentioned.

On all counts, it turns out that I can't live a normal life. That's quite. Something is bound to happen!

So… What to do? Be a hero? Anti-heroism? To do evil? To live, after all?

Explain how to be?!

My head is already overheating from all this! Fuck it… To hell with it all! I'll eat first, and then I'll think about what to do.

Due to the fact that I am a person who does not know how to cook anything more complicated than scrambled eggs, I am faced with a harsh reality. It didn't take long to put everything in the oven, but then I thought about it. Is there enough power to warm up? It looks a little weak… Let's see.

I turned the switch all the way. I think that's enough. By the way, where are the matches? Still need to light up. It's a gas station, right?

After searching with his eyes and not finding what he was looking for, he went on a search. That's it... now you have to fill your head with such nonsense. It's not enough for me to have all this, so there are still no matches anywhere! Is it possible to live like this?

"At least give me a lighter..."

I started by going back to the bedroom. There, in a pile of dirty clothes, there were red pants. After rummaging through his pockets, he found what he needed and went to the kitchen.

Wait for me my food... here I will eat and start thinking. It's not that I'm hungry, but I need to do something, otherwise everything. Have arrived. Call Arkham… But no, not that universe. They'll stick it somewhere, in general.

He took out a lighter and began to strike.

"What is that smell?" the thought flashed, but the hands continued their work.

A flash in front of my eyes, a crash… Terrible pain. Dark.

While I'm lying in a coma and regenerating, let me go into shock and get a little crazy. Explosion... fucking explosion! Gas, or what? What kind of bastard turned on the gas?! Show me this idiot... a-a-a... damn. Isn't that me?

They told me that my memory sucks. They hinted at my absent-mindedness… That's the bottom line.

Okay, it's time for me to come to my senses there, so we'll talk later, guys.

How long I lay like that... I can't even imagine. The first thing I saw was the shabby ceiling in the living room.

Mm-hmm… And what was that?

Getting up from the floor, I looked around.

Well... I don't have a kitchen. Although everything is in smoke, it's hard to see and it's terribly sore in the throat, but I can say with confidence that the house is intact. Repairs are needed, but everything is intact. Except the kitchen. It needs to be changed.

I wanted to keep myself busy… So I got it. I'll open the windows. I'll air out everything here.

I'm immortal and there's nothing I can do about it.