A hero, chosen by the gods, is someone who stands above the crowds, a beacon of hope and strength while also being an exemplary goal that everyone strives to be. On their shoulders, they carry an unbelievable burden as they set out on their mission to make the world a better place.
With that kind of job description the whole world probably believes being a hero is the hardest job occupation in existence, they could never be so wrong.
The hardest job occupations on this planet are:
(1) A door to door used dildo salesman.
(2) The guy that jerks off animals for breeding.
(3) A hero's companion.
(4) Being a fucking hero.
All in that order
Why is a being a hero's companion harder than an actual hero you asks? Think about it. Being a companion pretty much guarantees yourself a horrible death just so that hero doesn't get killed before the final boss fight.
It always ends the same way with them laying in a puddle of their own blood maybe missing a limb or two, raining because the Gods have a flair for dramatic theatrics or maybe it's a legit way to summon rain I don't fucking know. The poor sucke- I mean trusted companion holds the hero's hand with the iconic blood dribble running down the chin and tells some sort of motivational speech about hope or courage or some sort of bullshit as the light in their eyes dim.
Then ten to fifteen seconds later they shit themselves.
That's what happens to you when you follow a hero people, you wind up in a puddle of your own blood and shit. Luckily for you when they retell the tale they leave out the part about you shitting yourself.
Oh, and let us not forget who gets all the credit at the end of this asinine journey, that's right the gods damn fucking hero. So when they write the book or engrave on the plaque below the statue it's probably going to read " Dedicated to the great cock-sucking hero that blah blah world blah blah never forget blah blah forever thankful. . . . . . . . and friends". That's all you get a ". and friends" mention after you got turned into a bloody human confetti because you decided to 'take one for the team'.
I know what you're thinking: "Who is this obviously handsome rogue sex god who knows exactly how it is?". Well, my name is Ryder Cullen and right now I am currently lying face up in a puddle of my own blood with a sword stuck in my chest.
This is no pussy stab either. This sword is deep, I'm talking about whoever is able to pull this sword out would be declared the one true king of Rovick kind deep.
I would pull it out myself but I'm afraid that it would require two hands, unfortunately, I seem to be missing my right hand. I should try and locate it immediately but being in the middle of a raging forest inferno with almost a wall of smoke covering everything would make it almost imposs- no wait I found it. Somehow it landed on a nonlit shrub and it's giving me the thumbs up like it knows everything is gonna be ok. I would expect nothing less from my dominant masturbation hand/ lady fun parts pleaser/ main hand I use to fight bad guys with.
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Man, I'm losing a lot of blood.
I could try and stand up but gosh darn it beside the sword which is pretty much keeping me nailed to the ground I seem to be also missing everything below my right knee. I know for sure that I'm never going see that beautiful foot again.
How did I get in this situation you ask? Well if you weren't paying attention to the bloody chapter heading "Ch.1 Fuck Hero's" I'm in this mess because of a fucking hero, and not just any fucking hero. My best friend Regis who just so happens to be a god damn fucking hero. So do you know what that makes me? A fucking hero's companion!
So everything happening to me right now is another day at the office apparently. Wake up for breakfast, do some exercising, stop and wonder about the future, and finally, get stabbed and die in the middle of a forest fire. That's a full workload right there.
Well at least it's not rai-nope, now it's raining.
I'm so fucking dead.
Ok, maybe my death won't be so bad, maybe it'll be one of those passing out gently from the blood loss kind of death, that sounds nice. At least I know without a single doubt in my mind that the asshole that did this to me is gonna be down for a good whi- I hear him getting up..........GODS FUCKING DAMMIT!!!! Wait, wait if I play dead maybe he'll leave me alone.
A couple of seconds go by with only the sounds of the fire being pelted by the rain. A small part of me thinks the plan is actually wor-
"I know your still alive Ryder"
Fuck!
"I will admit you got me pretty good there, and boy that's saying something considering how long I've been kicking"
I can't answer you right now I'm currently dead at the moment.
The sound of approaching footsteps stops right next to me. I can't feel the rain hitting me anymore so I'm pretty sure he's standing over me looking down at my feign death pose.
"You must think I'm pretty dumb if this little sub par act of yours is supposed to fool me," he said while chuckling.
That is the plan asshole.
"The only problem with playing dead is..."
A sudden ping sound could be heard and I can feel a small wave of vibrations run down the sword into my chest. Small sparks of pain flash in my mind as I try to keep my act together. I feel something pressing down on my stomach which I think is his foot and the blade running through me slightly shifts. A cold realization dawned on me as I realized what was gonna happen next.
".....you got to be able to withstand the pain when they check you"
My little facade immediately crumbles as huge bursts of pain just flared throughout my body as I feel the long sharp metal being pulled roughly out me. I try to yell out, but all I manage to get out is wet hacks of blood that flys out of my mouth.
"I guess this is end of your journey Ryder, short as it maybe you still managed to take a few steps out there, it's just that its unfortunate that you were stepping towards a hollow grave"
I gave him my best teary eyed glare I could muster and tried to reply with a witty retort but all that I managed to say was "Guh as*cough* um ga*cough*"
You can't be a smartass with blood in your lungs.
"Don't worry about Regis, Ryder, I'm sure he'll be following closely behind you" The asshole said as he swung his blade to the side of him, discharging any blood residue that clung to his sword.
That wasn't what I was trying to say asshole! I was trying to say that least my grave isn't as big as your mother's cunt!
The asshole points the tip of his sword at my throat, eyeing the angle for his finishing strike. I see a creepy deranged smile slowly crawls onto his face as he lifts the sword above his head. The flickering light of the dying flames and ember shimmers on the blades reflective edge making the sword look like it was on fire.
You know what is the worst thing right now is?
It's that I really need to take a shit right now.
The sword comes down.