The Soldier's Superhero

Chapter One

Stay calm. Just gotta stay calm.

My name is Flippy. I'm a retired veteran, I live in Happy Tree Friends Town, and I'm at least twenty-four years old. I had some problems, so you could say I retired earlier than expected, but I was in the army since I was sixteen. I've seen a lot, done a lot, and fucked up a lot. I'm getting ahead of myself. I have light green hair, pale skin, and dark forest green eyes; my outfit consists of an old army uniform, steel-toed boots, fingerless-leather glooves, dogtags, and my father's beret. I guess I'm not too much to look at.

Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

See, I've been living in Happy Tree Friends Town for four years. I got out of the military at twenty at the rank of a Sergent. That's a big accomplishment for someone like me, being that young. I was in the Vietnam War, W.A.R, and probably some other deployment before I had to be discharged. The reason why... well, that's a longer story for another day.

"AAAHHHHHH!!"

Flippy blinked his eyes at the sound of Flakey's ear-piercing scream. The yellow tint in his eyes disappeared to forest green eyes and his sharpened teeth dulled back the regular ones. He blinked multiple times before looking around to see blood staining his hands and clothes, his old bowie knife in his hand, and the sight of Disco Bear, Petunia, and Giggles all dead from the ride they were on. Mime was burnt to a crisp and on the ground as Sniffles and Nutty freaked out. Lumpy's latest therapy session did not work. Other community members began to crowd around, as Flippy began to back away, horrified at another one of his flip-out sessions. He looked to see piercing, angry eyes glare his way before turning tail and running.

I couldn't stay calm...

He kept running until he got to the edge of town, out towards the forest, and to his bunker looking home. He ran inside, after a moment of fumbling with his keys, and went straight to the bathroom to empty his stomach. That was the fourth time this week he's flipped and another strike on his already damaged reputation in town was made. Once he finished throwing up, he rinsed his mouth and went to grab his pill bottle before he remembered he was covered in blood. His adrenaline picked up again and he went to the shower, blasting it with hot water as he stripped quickly and went in. The burn of the shower only made him hyperventilate more, so he had to put it on freezing, and that's what made him snap out of it. He didn't look down, afraid to see the red being washed away as he proceeded to scrub his body at least three times roughly to get rid of the feeling of blood on him.

What's the matter, twerp? Flippy almost collapsed when his demon spoke up to him in a taunting manner. Did you see what I did back there? Too bad Flaky ruined it all, I was going to kill her next.

Flippy barely made it out of the shower to vomit once more into the toilet. He dry heaved for a while before calming down. He dried himself, turned the water off, and took a few pills before going back to his room to put on some new clothes. He had a couple rooms full of clothes because this was, depressingly, a normal routine. Fliqpy, his alter ego, was quiet after he took the pills, something he was silently glad for.

Flippy sat down on the ground of his room after putting on some fresh clothes, crawling back to the bathroom only to get his beret before going back. He sat there until the sun set and got back up. There were bags under his eyes, his face paler than before, and cheeks red from the crying. The people he killed today would be revived after midnight, but that memory of him killing them would never go away. It was a wonder people didn't try to run him out of town yet. They already hated him for being one of the sole reasons for their deaths eighty percent of the time. Flippy could only sigh at that.

His luck on making and keeping friends was always going down. The last person he could have called a friend was Flaky, but the poor girl was much too frightened to even spare him a glance anymore. Lumpy, the town idiot, was the only person who remotely tried to help him anymore, solely because he was dumb and didn't realize Fliqpy could suddenly take control and kill him. He didn't consider either of them to be friends though, he was just Flippy's therapist. Flippy didn't make anything to eat. After the first few months of living here, his appetite had been destroyed.

Flippy was in the kitchen, drinking some water and staring at the clock he kept on the table. Sleeping was another thing he'd stopped doing. Cleaning his house was the only thing he could do, it was one of the few things that kept him calm, helped pass time, helped him feel normal. Tears gathered in his eyes, he tried desperately to keep them at bay, but with how frequently Fliqpy was taking control and the glares and whispers from others in town, he was beginning to break. Sure, he tried being as friendly as possible, smiled, waved, tried to act civil, tried to participate in the community, hold down a proper job so the army wouldn't have to keep sending him checks, and try to keep himself in control... but it wasn't enough. He flipped at anything and everything. He flipped today because the stupid ride that he killed everyone on reminded him of the airplanes that bombed the area he was stationed at. He flipped when seeing a simple pair of safety scissors.

Flippy. What an appropriate name for someone like him. It's like his parents knew he'd never be normal.
Flippy put his head down on the table, shoulders shaking as he sobbed silently.

Somebody, help me...