Two years before Calvin Korkea met Pierre Faucheuse, Victor was going through a bad patch.
He’d had bad patches like this before. Pierre and Deston know it comes and goes.
It’s happened a lot of times.
Sometimes, the burden of immortality is too much for Victor to bear.
Victor knows that what he attempts during these bad patches is pointless. He’s tried to do it in every way he can think of. Nothing works.
But he does it anyway, because, when he’s in this emotional state, he hopes he’ll get lucky eventually.
BLAM
In Victor’s cabin, Scarface waddles out of the saferoom, and sees Victor lying down on the living room floor, a puddle of blood around him, a bullet hole in his head, a gun in his hand.
Scarface sighs.
“Hewe we gu again. Victow! Upsies! Yu makin a mess!”
Victor sits up, the bullet hole already closing.
“Why? Why can’t I just die already?”
“Imm-ow-tawwy-tee am nu su bad, Victow.”
“You’re only saying that because you’re two years old. You wanna know exactly how old I am, Scarface?”
“Scawface neba fowt tu awsk, but otay.”
So Victor tells Scarface. Scarface’s jaw drops.
“Victow am dat owd???”
“Yeah. Now you know exactly how long I’ve had to put up with this shit. Why do you think I’m trying to end it? And guess what, you’re gonna have to put up with all of it too.”
“Scawface neba fink abowt dat.”
Victor scoffs.
“Nobody who wants to be immortal ever thinks about the implications, Scarface. I’ve had to watch everyone I ever met grow old and die, while I stayed as young as ever. The only thing that changed was the amount of scars I have.”
Victor, standing on a stool, ties one end of a noose to a big sturdy hook on the ceiling, as Scarface watches.
The hook was put there a long time ago for this exact purpose.
As has been said, this isn’t Victor’s first suicide attempt.
“Dis pwobabwy wunt wowk ee-fuw, Victow.”
“Don’t you think I know that? But it’s always worth a shot.”
Victor puts the noose around his neck and kicks the stool away.
snap
Victor just groans as he hangs there.
Scarface looks up smugly.
“Towd yu.”
Victor cuts himself down.
“Shut up, Scarface.”
Outside the cabin, Victor kneels down and places his head in a guillotine, closing his eyes.
“Pull the rope, Scarface.”
“Um, Victow…”
“Just pull the damn rope.”
“Otay.”
Scarface grips a rope with his teeth and pulls.
The blade falls down.
CHOP
Victor’s head rolls away from his body, and he opens his eyes.
“Damnit!”
“Nu wose yu head, Victow.”
“I’m probably gonna laugh at that later, but for now, Scarface, shut the fuck up and help me get my head back on.”
In the city, up on Faucheuse Tower, Victor drinks the contents of a full bottle of bleach, and then jumps off the roof.
A few minutes later, Scarface looks down at the crowd gathering around the crazy bastard who just jumped off the tallest building in the city, somehow survived, and is now criticizing one woman’s taste in fashion.
“Scawface shudda towd Victow tu du a fwip.”
At the zoo, Victor drizzles himself with barbecue sauce, his own recipe, and then climbs over the fence and jumps into the lion enclosure before anyone can stop him.
Scarface watches the lions maul Victor.
“Scawface wudda gon wif mustawd.”
A good distance away from Victor’s cabin, Victor sits on a huge pile of explosives, and pushes the plunger.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Scarface sees the resulting explosion from the cabin.
“Am it fowf of Juwy awweady?”
Victor covers himself with P53, and climbs into a pen full of fluffies who have all tested positive for a reaction to the pheromone.
It doesn’t really do anything, but Victor wasn’t surprised about that one.
Victor borrows Pierre’s time machine, hoping to just go back and kill his past self before his immortality kicked in, but winds up stranding himself in the Triassic.
“Not again!”
He gets back to the present the slow way.
A group of wizards surround Victor and they all cast Mortys on him.
The spells fizzle out before they even touch him.
Victor facepalms.
“Why does that happen?!?”
Victor, several dozen empty pill bottles surrounding him, vomits up their contents on the cabin floor while sobbing.
“There’s no way out… there’s just no fucking way out…”
Scarface hugs him, but it doesn’t really help.
When Scarface walks in on Victor, just after Victor injects enough heroin into his bloodstream to kill twenty full-grown men, Scarface finally has enough.
“Victow am nee hewp.”
Don’t even ask where Victor got all of that heroin.
At the School, Victor is put in a straightjacket and locked in a padded room.
He just sits on the floor in silence and glowers at anyone looking in through the window.
On the other side of the door, Pierre and Deston look through the window with sad expressions on their faces. Scarface feels just as bad as they do, but even Scarface knew Victor needed to be stopped.
They hate having to do this to Victor, but he’s a danger to others when he’s like this.
He’s not a danger to himself, obviously.
And they know he’ll snap out of it soon. His suicidal mania never lasts long. It comes and goes.
When he does snap out of it, he’ll be back to his regular self. He’ll be the cad he usually is.
Until the next time it happens.