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man i don't even know.
stuff.
pisces wip

        Hell is to Earth what real life is to dreams. That's an analogy the Boss once gave me, but personally, I think it's the other way around.

        See, his reasoning is that people start off in Hell, and then they get born into life on Earth. When they die, they get sent back to Hell, and start the process over again. Every time they're reincarnated they (usually) lose their memories, but every time they come back down here, everything comes back. It's like how when you dream, you don't know you're dreaming. Of course, sometimes when you dream you remember s**t you did in real life. That's why I said they /usually/ lose their memories. Sometimes not everything is completely erased, and then you end up with that creepy deja vu feeling as you're staring down the shirt of your friend's single MILF. And then when you die you realize it's cause in your previous life you were her husband. Not that that's ever happened to me.

        Anyway, the reason I say it's the other way around is simple. Every time someone on Earth has a dream or a nightmare, or even a very detailed fantasy, it manifests here in Hell. So of course, we've got s**t like unicorns and fairies and sexy nymphs, but then we've got raunchy s**t like dickgirls and nasty things that'll gouge out your eyeball, devour it, vomit it up, and use said vomit to drown your friends. Not that that's ever happened to me, either. No, really.

        That's where I come in. I get to get rid of all of that stuff. You might be thinking, "What's wrong with a unicorn or two?" Well, what happens when those unicorns go rogue and start impaling people left right and center? Then you might say, "But Pisces, there's can't /possibly/ be a problem with a harem of sex fueled women." And then those women go on to stalk you for days upon days, rubbing their tits all up in your face trying to get you to ******** them, when all you really want to do is eat your goddamn lunch. And I will admit, that one happened to me.

        So yeah. My job is to find those nasty buggers and kill them. It's not really a dangerous job per se, cause I can't possibly die /again/, but it can get quite painful, and I'd rather not have to regrow a limb. Again. It's kind of like intense community service, which is why only the twisted freaks get stuck with the job. You've got guys like Vlad who impaled like 500 ******** people before he got stuck on the job. Why I got the job, I'll never know.

        No, that's a lie. I do know. It's cause every time I've gotten a new Earth life, it has followed the same formulaic path. Every goddamn time it involves murdering the reincarnations of that one, same, goddamn girl that I don't even ******** know.

        Trust me, I've tried looking for her. Every single time I've been reborn, she's my sister, or a wife, or a love interest, or even just an acquaintance. Every single time, I'm ordered, forced, or tricked into murdering her. Every single time, I end up killing myself, sometimes right after, sometimes decades later. And every single time I get back to the Underworld I look for her. That was until the higher ups decided that they had enough of my supposed tampering with their system, and put me on ******** clean up duty for her protection. They seem to think that I've got something against this chick that I don't even KNOW, and that I'm a twisted disgusting assbag who enjoys torturing her. Clearly I'm the victim here.








 
 
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