Not all men are created equal.
Some of them have been alive for thousands of years, suck blood and can't go out in sunlight. Others are shambling corpses resulting from a Pharaoh's curse. Still others are half man half wolf, doomed to transform every full moon.
Izuku Midoriya was ten years old when he learned these nightmarish truths. The first time the undead tried to bite his face off.
Gunshots echoed through the Midoriya Apartment, the sound reverberating off the walls as Izuku's voice rang out. "Yaa! Take that! Take that!" he shouted, mowing down wave after wave of undead soldiers.
"Izuku, can you turn your game off for a second and help me in the kitchen?" Inko Midoriya called from the kitchen doorway, her apron tied snugly around her waist and a spatula in hand. "Dishes need doing, kiddo. You did promise, remember?"
"But mom! I can't pause, I'm online!" Izuku protested, his eyes never leaving the screen.
Inko's tone shifted to that unmistakable sternness, the one that always got him to listen to her. "Izuku Midoriya. I won't ask again."
With a resigned sigh, he muttered, "Fine…" He reluctantly rose from the sofa, casting one last longing glance at his game before moving to switch off the console
It was around this time that all hell broke loose, the crap hit the fan, shit just got real, and events began to transpire in an unpredictable manner.
A moss-green hand smashed through the front door, splintering wood and scattering shards everywhere. A grotesque head followed, its rotting skin stretched tight over its skull, gums exposed in a ghastly grin. Rotting teeth clacked together as the ghoul lunged forward, its eyes fixed hungrily on the screaming Izuku.
With a disgusting gurgle, the intruder roared, "BUH-BRAAAAINS!" It swiped its decayed arm, desperately trying to wriggle through the jagged hole it had torn in the door. Its rotten flesh and broken limbs struggled against the confines of the small opening, causing it to writhe helplessly.
Izuku hit the floor with a thud, terror freezing him in place. His mother, however, seemed unnervingly composed. From the kitchen, she sprinted towards the chaos, leaping over the sofa and removing her apron in one movement.
"Mom?! What the hell is happening?!" Izuku's voice cracked with panic.
Inko landed beside the struggling attacker with precise agility, then wrapped the rotting creature in the apron, binding its flailing arms. With a determined yank and a sickening squelch, she hoisted the creature upwards, partially bisecting it against the glass panel of the shattered door. "ERRRAAGGH!" it howled in agony, thrashing violently.
"Damn thing must have followed me home," Inko muttered to herself.
Still scared beyond all belief, Izuku managed to blurt out "Is- is that a fucking zombie?!"
"Izuku! Language! But yes, dear." Inko said firmly, as she wrestled to keep the undead beast contained. "Now, could you be a very brave boy and head over to the cabinet over there? Pull the candlestick to the left three times, quickly!"
"M-mom?! What are you talking about?!"
"Quick as you can, sweetie! Mommy could really use the help!" Inko insisted, as she continued to struggle with the zombie
"BRAINS!"
Scrambling across the floor, Izuku made it to the cabinet and did as he was asked - soft clicks emanating from the candlestick as he pushed it. Suddenly, with a low mechanical hum, the rows of books slid down behind the lower drawers, revealing a hidden compartment. Panels folded out to disclose a cache of weapons: gleaming knives, sharpened wooden stakes, vials of mysterious liquid, and a crossbow.
"The crossbow, dear! It's already loaded!" Inko shouted urgently.
Izuku's hands shook uncontrollably as he grabbed the crossbow from its display. "Wh-what the hell is going on...?" he stammered.
"It's just like your video game, sweetie!" Inko called out, her tone encouraging despite the chaos. "Just point and shoot at the head!"
"But what if I hit you?!"
"You won't! I trust you! Just look down the sights and you'll be fine!"
With trembling hands, Izuku lifted the crossbow, his breath coming in ragged bursts. He closed one eye, his tongue poking out in concentration, and took aim. The world seemed to slow down as he focused on the target.
TWANG ~SHUNK.
The bolt flew through the air, striking the zombie with a sickening thud. The creature's body convulsed once before slumping lifelessly to the ground, a crossbow bolt embedded firmly between its rotting eyes.
Inko let out a relieved sigh as she released her grip on the now (entirely) dead zombie. She turned to Izuku with a warm, albeit tired, smile.
"Well," she said, her voice softening, "I think we need to have a little chat."
With a zombie unceremoniously dumped in the trash and a front door hastily repaired by a liberal usage of tape and cardboard, the immediate crisis seemed somewhat managed. Inko led her son into the kitchen, and as she set a pot of tea on the table, her eyes remained sharp with concern.
"Did it bite you? Any scrapes?" she asked.
"No I… I think I'm fine…" Izuku said breathlessly, the adrenaline of the moment now finally easing. He looked at his mother, the events still processing in his mind. "Mom… What was that? Why do we have all those weapons?"
Inko took a deep breath, placing the pot between them and beginning to prepare the tea with a practised calm. "Sweetie, there's a lot I haven't been completely honest with you regarding." Her gaze shifted to the makeshift repair on the door, where the cardboard flapped slightly with each draft. "There are things out there that most people will hopefully never encounter. But our family, well… we're a bit different."
"What do you mean?" Izuku's curiosity began to overshadow his fear as he moved to pour himself a drink. His mother's hand shot out to stop him.
"Oh, no, honey, this isn't for drinking," Inko said, lifting the lid off the teapot. A plume of green smoke spiraled upwards. With a sharp blow, she directed the vapour straight into Izuku's face. He started coughing immediately, the acrid smell stinging his nostrils.
"M-Mom! Wh-What was that for?!" he spluttered between coughs.
Putting the lid back on firmly, she replied "High intensity zombie protection. I usually mix some in with the laundry detergent, but it can't have been enough." She rolled her eyes.
Once Izuku's coughing subsided, he continued, "You were saying something about us being, um, different?"
Inko smiled gently and brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Your father comes from a long line of hunters, Izuku. They're protectors who battle all the 'creatures that go bump in the night.'"
Izuku's mind whirled with the new revelations. "Is that why Dad's away for so long at a time?"
She nodded in confirmation, "He's taking care of a small chupacabra problem in South America- It's not important. It all started about 500 years ago, when your ancestor found himself in a small spot of bother involving an ancient curse…"
"Your life is forfeit, Van Helsing! You, and all your progeny will know my ceaseless wrath! Never again will you be safe, as my armies of the undead haunt your every waking hour! The only way to break the curse is to–"
"Yes?! How?!" Izuku asked with wide eyes.
Inko shrugged, "Well, about that…"
"Enough of your prattling, demon!" Van Helsing retorted defiantly, firing a pneumatic stake-thrower that pierced the vampire's heart.
Inko sighed, shaking her head. "Your however-many-times great uncle could be a bit reckless…"
"Oh." Izuku said blankly, trying to process the historical snippet. "But why didn't I know about any of this before?"
"We wanted to keep you safe," Inko explained gently. "We wanted to give you a normal childhood for as long as possible. We even moved to a city with a higher concentration of heroes, hoping it would keep the undead away from us. But with what happened today, it seems the time has come sooner than we'd hoped."
To Izuku's astonishment, Inko took a sip from the tea she had just declared off-limits. The steam swirled up from the cup, a comforting yet ominous aroma.
"I guess we should start with the basics," Inko continued, setting the cup down. "There are many kinds of supernatural creatures, each with their own strengths and weaknesses. Vampires, werewolves, zombies, mummies, ghosts, demons, bunyips, ogres, boggarts, ghouls—there's a lot of them, is my point. Our family has been trained to handle them all."
Listening intently, the enormity of his new reality began to sink in. "I didn't know…"
Inko looked into her son's eyes tenderly. "The most important thing to remember is that everything can be defeated—as long as you know what you're doing. And that means you need to make a decision."
"I do?"
His mother nodded and placed two objects on the table in front of him. "Which weapon do you want to learn first? Axe or knife?"