Oh, We Can Be Heroes

Chapter Eleven

TW: Talks of self harm, suicide, derealization, somewhat vivid descriptions of injuries

Dearest Readers, you are intriguing.

I asked questions in the last chapter, questions I assumed would be purely rhetorical and never answered.

But, then you asked for me. You specifically wanted me, you answered my questions and in turn asked me some.

Why? Why did you seek me out? Why do you care for me, taunt me with your answers of empathy?

You called me lonely, Demon Alpine. I don't know your actual name, and quite frankly I cannot bring myself to care more about you. Your linguistics, though, they intrigue me.

Have all of you come to the assumption that I am lonely? That I feel an emotion as basic as loneliness? I am a god. I know everything, I see it all. I know how every story begins and ends, how is that loneliness? I have everything.

Then, then, you question the integrity of my reliability? Why would I lie? Why would I tell a story that is false? There is no point to that, to waste my time. There's a reason my sections are separated from the others. This section, until the chapter break is mine. Do not insult my integrity.

Some of you are confused by me, some of you are enraged by my presence.

You ask the author why? Why include me? Why am I just so punchable?

The real question is why not include me? It is my story after all. Don't let your incapability of understanding my presence turn into rage. It's such a human trait, it's annoying and weak.

Why am I so enamored with the idea of you humans? It's one that confuses me, if I am honest. I was harsh, last chapter. I wanted to see how you would react to that. Would you still be empathetic even after harsh words? I believed you wouldn't be, of course not.

But then one of you told me to take care of myself.

When I first read that, I was shocked. How? How would you still care for me? You have no idea of who I even am? What if I am Tommy's biological father? He abused Tommy all of his childhood and warped his sense of love. What if I'm the Blood God? He forces people to become murderers in order to appease him.

But yet, you still empathize. You still care. You offer to become my friend.

Why? Why do you have such blind offerings of friendship and optimism? Are you naive?

Am I pessimistic?

Have you ever read Scythe , reader? It was written by Neal Shusterman, and it made me question how important death is in life. In the book, they have found a way to be immortal. With advanced technologies, they live forever. So, in order to stop overpopulation, they have this group of people in it called Scythes. They chose people to kill, and they stayed dead. It's more in depth in the novel, but you came here to read this story, not that one. There's a section that talks about how art died shortly after humans learned to be immortal.

Humans lost their will to create art because they found no reason to create. That brought me multiple questions.

I don't die. I live through it all, in omnipotence. Is that why I have such a hard time grasping those human concepts? Does my life have no meaning since it will never end?

You all have meaning. That is one of the things I am envious of (if envy is the feeling I get). You all will leave this world one day, and will have left a mark on it, your life would've amounted to something.

Will mine do the same? In my world, maybe, but in yours? Do I have that power?

Is that the loneliness you speak on, Demon Alpine? I am curious for your answer, and patiently will await it.