It's not everyday you meet a fifteen year old ghost. It's also not everyday that you discover that you had a past life in which you killed a lot of humans.
Hi, my name is Maddox Roswolfe, and I hate myself.
So, according to the Library of Wisteria, my past life was a demon who attempted to rip apart the angels. Nice. Fuckin' fantastic, actually. Her name was Sombra, and no one knows where she came from. At least, according to Raziel, the Archangel of Mysteries, and if she doesn't know, I don't think anyone does.
But wait! Isn't that bullshit? Oh yeah. Sombra's past isn't so much a mystery as it is a story that is better left unsaid. No one wants to hear about some kid who grew up in another world full of cold and lycanshifters. So, of course, they change the story. It's what they do. Then, by the time the "villain" is dead and gone, no one knows who they were.
So why am I, a fifteen year old, ranting about the albino demon ghost in my skull? Simple. She pisses me off. It's always "Oh Max, you should kill more virgins!" How about no? It's boring. "Max, go shoot up a school!" She makes me want to commit voter fraud. My life has become so much of a shitpost that I truly believe that when anarchy descends and the end of days falls upon us, I'll be laughing my goddamn ass off.
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"Don't be stupid and edgy." No, listen, chucklehead, I live with a hallucination caused by memories from my past life in my head, and you're telling me not to be edgy? Stop complaining about taxes and vote!
And in case you're still thinking that I'm faking it, Sombra is currently whispering in my ears about how I would've been better off dead, and just grew horns. I swear, I can't make this shit up. Go off, I guess, but I'm probably gonna die alone with a demon bitch in my head.
