This story is going to be very dark.

Warnings:

abuse

You being dead
     * due to being killed, your quirk appears. It's a quirk that prevents you from dying or feeling emotions correctly; you also feel the need to kill.

You are suicidal due to not being able to feel pain and knowing you are supposed to be dead.

Violence and gore

Painful flashbacks about your life and trauma you experienced.

Human sacrifice is mentioned in this story.

Smut the last chapter. (Not while you are dead)

It was a cold, rainy night in the city, but you didn't mind. You liked nights like this and welcomed the cold. You were walking around the town before going home; any place was better than being at home.

"Hey, what are you doing out here without a jacket and alone?" You heard a voice ask, and you turned to see Red Riot patrolling the streets.

"Oh, I just need some space. I just needed time to think about what I wanted to do. My parents want me to take over the family business, but I want to attend college. Being quirkless has its disadvantages. We had a bit of a falling out," I explained as he smiled.

"You will get sick if you stay out here too long. Do you need someone to walk you home?" He asked as you could hear screaming in the back of your mind from the past.

"No, thank you. I can get home alright," I said as I headed home.

"Okay, just be careful; there has been a string of murders going on. Twenty-nine people have been killed so far in the last three months. There are many heroes out now, but it hasn't stopped whoever is doing it yet," he said as you sighed.

"People like that should be dead, not their victims. Are there any leads yet?" You asked.

"No, my school is making us all go out and see if we can find anything. Just please be careful going home, and here, take this," Kirishima said as he handed you an umbrella.

"Oh, thank you. Be safe out there, Red, okay?" You smiled.

"I will; what have you decided, college or family business?" He asked as I paused.

"Collage," you say as you open the umbrella and head home.

You closed the unbreakable and hid it under a bush, then went inside. Your father was inside reading the newspaper, and he looked up to see you standing there.

"You need to stop," you said as your father put down the paper.

"Stop what?" He asked.

"The murders. I'm not helping you get rid of the bodies anymore. My whole life, you trained me how to get rid of the bodies, how to kill, for what? Because you are sick and twisted, mine thinks eating the hearts of people will make you immortal and give you a quirk so strong you can rule them all. I'm going to the police; I'm not scared of you anymore," I say as I take out my knife.

"You will go to jail for helping us; I will make sure of it," he said as he stood up and pulled a knife out of his pocket.

"I might, but your mind games, your torture, your abuse, will not stop me anymore. You have killed three hundred people from the time I was born to now. I will not let you get to your precious three hundred thirty-third," you said.

"What made you change your heart?" He asked as he got close to you.

"The screams of the innocent victims you made me listen to every night and day in hopes I would be like you and Mom. I will never be like you," you say as you start fighting your dad, but he is stronger than you are, and he cuts your throat quickly.

You fell to the ground, and he turned you over on your back and stabbed you in the chest.

"Three hundred and one, don't worry. I'll bring you back once I'm immortal and kill you over and over again for your disobedience to me!" He growled.

"Arnold, you had to kill our daughter? Now, we will have to lay low for months! Unbelievable, you could have just tied her up and left her in the basement!" Your mother sighed as he sighed.

"She was going to be our last kill, but we might as well kill her now. She was going to turn us in to the police. What changed your heart? I thought I trained you better than this; no matter what, I will find a new helper," he said as you bled out on the floor, and he cut out your heart.

"Man, last night was tough! Kirishima said as Shoto looked at him tiredly.

"You had the easy shift; midnight till eight is hard," He said as Izuku turned on the TV.

"Breaking news today at nine o'clock this morning, A man found a duffel bag with the human remains of a young girl that dental records have now identified. The young girl has even identified as sixteen-year-old Y/n Hudson. Unlike the others, her body was mutilated beyond recognition and dismembered to fit in the small duffel bag.

She is the daughter of Arnold and Mary Hudson, who run an accounting firm. She was their only child, and her parents described her as kind, loving, and full of life. She one day was going to follow in her family's footsteps of being an accountant," the reporter said as your picture came up, and Kirishima remembered your smile before feeling sick.

"No way... there were three hundred heroes out last night; how?" Izuku said as angry tears ran down Kirishima's face.

"I talked to her last night! She was just walking around trying to figure out what she wanted. She was going to go to college. I gave her my umbrella," Kirishima said as he saw coverage of the small duffel bag in the park by a trash can, and he went to the sinks and got sick.

"Kirishima?" Shoto asked.

"She didn't want me to walk her home; I should have walked her home," he said as he cleaned the sink and started crying.

When your funeral came around, it was a closed casket due to your body just being a pole of flesh and bone. Your father put a dress in your casket, pretending like he cared about you. Kirishima didn't talk to your parents because he felt responsible for not taking you home. He put flowers on your grave and sighed weakly.

"I... I promise I'll be a better hero. I know I can't save everyone, but I will do my best to ensure this never happens again. The police and us heroes will catch who is responsible for this. We try to make sure you are the last one that dies. I will visit you until we catch this person, maybe until I can live with myself for my mistake. I know it wasn't my fault, but I was right there," he said softly before leaving your grave.