The legendary hero, destined to vanquish the dark lord, was instead transported to our world and has no clue how he’s going to survive.

“1,000? That can’t be right.” I thought to myself. My sister-in-law’a son was sitting playing video games on the couch, his little thumbs clacking away on his controller. The rules, as I have learned, are as such; the number of kills only counts intentional deaths and even then it doesn’t count self defense and yet, here was my five year old nephew with a massive “1,000” hanging over his head.

“Hey, bud. Whatcha been doin lately?” I asked nervously as he turned his attention towards me. With a smile he replied “Sending letters.” “To who?” I asked dumbly “People I hate.” He replied nonchalantly.

I spoke to my sister-in-law asking if I could look in nephews letter writing materials. “Why?” I honestly didn’t know how to answer. Her and my wife are the only two people I’ve told about my weird ability but I couldn’t imagine she would believe it if I told her that her son is a mass murderer. “I need an envelope.”

As I was searching I found masks, gloves and a small glass jar with a biohazard symbol on it. A small amount of white powder was left inside. As I stared in utter horror I saw an unfinished letter out of the corner of my eye… addressed to me.