Of all the monsters I’ve kicked ten shades of shit out of, the Djinn is one that’ll stick right there up with the dead fucks.
And not cause it kicked my ass or cause their precious face tats and golden rings were more memorable then any other BDSM club
But because they taught me something valuable about being a real hero.
See there’s this little known secret that I fucking hate being a Chosen One.
Sure, I’m damn good at what I do and there’s a rush in carving some dickhead in half who’s just asking for it.
But I’m just some dumb hick from Elk Grove, I never asked to be some shining beacon of hope.
I never asked to be hated for doing the right thing, to be looking over my shoulder wondering when the next asshole’s gonna come for the prize of some Williams booty.
To have everyone I love die in my arms knowing I couldn’t do jack shit to stop it.
I can’t just stop being it cause people die, I can’t give it away cause the universe loves to shit on my face. Fuck I can’t even sacrifice myself cause apparently old Ash got nine goddamn lives.
And worst of them all, Jessie wanted to follow in my footsteps. Wanted to be just like his hero. So I took him on his first hunt wanting it to be his last. To show him why this shit should make any decent person run terrified in the night.
And dumbass Ashley walks both of us into a goddamn trap.
Walk into this abandoned factory one minute, the next I’m waking up and my whole families in the kitchen…all okay. My wife’s alive, my daughter’s sane and dating some preppy kid and Jessie’s not fighting monsters but getting ready for some big law interview.
See, Djinn pump you full of monkey paw drugs that give you everything you wished for as they feed off your happiness and drain your ass dry. So I knew it was a fantasy, I knew they were playing me.
But hell if I didn’t want to just roll over and die and live in that fantasy forever.
Then I heard his voice, the kid fighting well beyond his weight class as he’s begging me not to give up. That I was better then this, that he believed in me.
It’s why I kept fighting to destroy that book, why I go headfirst into danger and don’t crumple up into a ball of angst and self loathing every time a dickhead tells me to swallow.
Doesn’t matter if it’s two doors, three wishes, alternate universes. A world without Ash doing what he does best ain’t a world I want to live in.
Cause love it or hate it, I’m the one Chosen to put a lead enema up your ass.
So let’s dance Monty, put on that fancy suit, butter me up and wine and dine my Chosen Ass.
But the outcome is gonna be the same no matter what door you put in front of me.
Your whole audience watching you Hail to the King.