1 1. I'm FUCKED...

I screamed from the excruciating pain in my body. It felt like thousands of needles were put into my skin at once, then taken out, then put back in a new place.

At the same time, the pungent smell of burning flesh assaulted my nose, and with every slightest movement of any part of my body, I seemed to be on fire, not forgetting the needles.

A cursed one grabs my arm, causing my pain to increase significantly, sending me into a state of conscious unconsciousness.

I explain.

It's like I'm awake but my body isn't. I was an astral projection, standing beside what should have been my body. But this is wrong.

When I died, it was from a gunshot to the head. I'm absolutely sure of that, because I did it myself. Now, looking at the current state of the body that I, for some reason, call mine, is totally wrong.

It looks like it's been roasted, like when you put a nice, juicy ham in the oven and leave it in the oven. There were black scabs on every part of the body, skin wrinkled and peeling away, showing some muscle.

Looking around, I realized that I was in a closed room. White walls and this strange body, which is mine, lying on what looks like a gurney. Some people in special clothes, those used in case of epidemic or radiation, were operating on the body.

As I stared at the scene of doctors removing dead flesh and charred skin, another projection appeared beside me.

He was a good-looking guy, with straight, well-cut hair combed back, his cut had a neat, fine beard. The body was exactly the same as the one lying on the stretcher. Well-groomed physique, as if he worked out every day.

The problem was his look at me. It was full of arrogance and arrogance. Like he was my superior, or he looked at me like I was his dog and I'd misbehaved.

"What the fuck man, what's your problem?" I curse, turning to him.

"Your tone, I don't like it." he responds calmly, but that look never leaves. "Unfortunately, it won't matter much. Listen to what I'm going to say because it will only be this once.

I tried to bring my mother back from Mephisto's clutches. Unfortunately, things didn't go as expected, and it turned out that a fight between us broke out. My mission was complete, as my mother's soul is free.

The problem is, in our fight, I lost the right to remain in my body, with my soul being tainted by the demonic dimension. In return, Mephisto also paid dearly, and now we are stuck with each other.

But make no mistake, he will break free sooner or later. So I can only pass this mission on to a soul that could occupy my body, and that's where you come in.

I wasn't the best person in the world, because my main objective was always to rescue my mother's soul, the rest, I didn't care.

My magic, and some of my intellect remain in the body, so you might learn something. Stay strong, because the world my body was sent to is unknown.

So, take advantage of the time you have, and learn the magic I know. The most important of them is XXXXXXXXXX where I keep many tomes and relics. Hope you understand everything."

Without a goodbye, or anything else, his projection ignites and disappears, at the same time the body pulls me back as if it needs me.

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I've been in a 'coma' for 8 months now. In that time, I've made a lot of progress learning some of the things that Victor, or rather Doom, left me.

He's really a cautious guy. There are magical barriers in his brain, hoping to keep anyone from seeing his secrets.

One more thing, the plethora of spells, enchantments, rituals this guy knows is out of the league, at least that's what I think.

There is also his physical training, which I must say is barbaric and cruel. What kind of person inflicts pain on himself and still carries weight in that situation?

After all, he has a strong, athletic physique, nothing too over the top, but one that could give Steve Roger a good fight, for a fair amount of time.

The whole problem is, what to do when I wake up. See, I'm supposed to be Victor von Doom, but he and I, we're completely different.

While Doom is a cold, cruel, insensitive, arrogant, overbearing guy. I'm just a stupid, thick-headed, bizarrely flawed guy. Laziness and Lust are some of the my most noticeable traits.

But then I noticed something. Doom's body, or rather my body, was undergoing changes, as was my soul. I think they are adapting to each other.

At the same time that he was mentally being influenced by the body, so was he, but in a different way.

While I received some of Doom's traits, his body received mine. Everything could be explained, regarding the body, by not eating or exercising, but, as I left the body, in the astral projection state, I saw that I was getting thinner, but more tense.

The muscles lessened, but became firmer. Visibly comparing, I had the physical density of a heavyweight boxer, and now, I have become a middleweight. It was a big difference.

My biggest fear, as silly as it is, is that I have a small penis. Doom was an arrogant being, and whenever there's arrogance like that, there's a hidden problem. I hope this isn't it.

Idiots and stupid thoughts aside, I could feel that my body was about to wake up.

I felt whole, complete, as if this had been my body forever.

Finally, on January 29th, which coincidentally happens to be my birthday, I woke up to this new and challenging world.