Red Dead and Long Gone

Who the Hell is Y/N Morgan?

"We can't change what's done, we can only move on."

Those are the words that my father spoke to me two days before he died. If you're wonderin' how he kicked the bucket... tuberculosis. He didn't die like a hero. He died like a dog. He died, betrayed. That dirty bastard Micah Bell... I want to scream every time I even think about his god-damned name... But there's not much I can do now, considerin' that I sent his ass to the lowest depths of hell. If you're wonderin' how I done that... heh... that's a story for another time.

I'm just making ya more curious, aren't I? Well then, you're prolly figurin' that there was an accomplice to that bastard. Yes and no. But his name was Dutch Van Der Linde. Leader of the Van Der Linde gang. Creative, huh? Anyways, it wasn't even 2 hours after my father passed that he came wailing to me. I could hear the sorrow in his voice and see the pain in his eyes.

He was sorry.

"Forgive me, Y/N! I killed your Pop! I stood around while he laid there and died! He was like a son to me! And I killed him..."

Lookin' back, I ain't sure if I should have forgave him. I suppose that's where my easy-going attitude comes in to play. But I forgave him. Due to the guilt, he ended up exiling himself to the mountains of Remnant. I get a letter from him time to time. Sometimes I can see tear stains on the corner of the paper.

But anyways, you're prolly wonderin about who I am. Well, my name is Y/N Morgan. 18 years old and the son of Arthur Morgan and Mary Linton. Couldn't say I knew my Ma very well... She died right after I was born. But Pop would always tell me about her. Her caring nature and that voice that could make angels weep. Even now, I think about life. Or at least A certain life. One where we're all one big family. Ma, Pop and Me. *sigh* I guess it's pointless to think about those kind of things, but it helps keep me sane.

Sane from what you might ask? The thing that lives inside of me.

Infernus...

A being of pure power fueled by rage and a never ending hunger for tainted souls. If I don't keep my emotions in check, mainly rage and grief, I'll turn into this... thing... But no use focusing on that. For now, I'm on my way to Beacon Academy. The principal there, Linda Ozpin (I know he/she doesn't have a first name, but I decided to give him/her one. And in case you don't know, he's a girl in story.)
let me in for free in exchange for my services. On the bright side, I don't have to wear any uniforms as long as it's not vulgar. But what's vulgar about a pair of boots, jeans, button up shirt, vest, long coat and a hat? But no matter this is the start of a new life. Hopefully a new me.

- Y/N Morgan.

A pair of burly hands shut the journal and place it in a jacket pocket. He looks up revealing his F/C Hair and F/C Eyes along with a 5 o'clock shadow.

He puts his cowboy hat on his head and mounts his horse.

"C'mon, boy... let's go." He says as he pats his horse's neck.

He trots of into the sunset towards a huge facility with his coat flowing in the wind as the title RED DEAD AND LONG GONE fades into view.