MHA OS

Welcome to the Freak Show

I sighed, looking at myself in the mirror. Face painted white, little green diamonds drawn on beneath my left eye. Light eyeshadow and concealer hid away my swollen black eyes.

Welcome to the Freak Show.. where the abnormal is put on display for the normal.

In this world, people with quirks are thought as a disease, a curse. That singular twenty percent who were frowned upon hid away, by choice or by force.
Three hundred years of people with quirks, and yet no one tried to save them. Three hundred years, and yet no one even batted an eye at the shows. Not a single one of those rich arses knew what happened behind the fabric folds of those curtains.

People with quirks are part of the so-called ‘dangerous’ category of society. If you had sense, you hid. If you were found, you run. That was life. Kill or be killed.
Special trades were made between the producers of the shows and the street urchins that live down the alleys and side roads of cities and towns. An abnormal for a shit ton of cash, but barely enough to feed them for a few months at most.
If you had a quirk, you would need to be careful. Keep it a secret, keep quiet, keep to the shadows and hide. Sometimes, if you were lucky enough, your parents would hide your curse marks, or keep you home. Most of the time though, you would be sold off.
It was set up like a game.
A young kid would get you the most money, being easy to ‘train’ because of their age. Adults less, seeing as they would usually fight back or escape. If a family member sold you in, you would get double.

And people think this fucked up, hell hole, is perfect.

All senses of humanity were lost as soon as you saw the tents, the stages. Names were forgotten, replaced by codes for what you were. Deku.. Naisho.. Aurmarous.. those were names that were used, though somewhat politer in ways. I was lucky, having been given the name Deku, but others had names straight from Tartarus. Clothing was swapped for rags during the day, over the top satins and silks in the evenings. Well, the looked like silk in the evening from those far away, but up close..



“Five minutes to call Deku.” A stage hand growled at me, clipping me around the back of the head.

“Yes sir.”

I dabbed on the last bit of makeup, making sure no bruises nor cuts were shown. Perfection was ordered, dollness expected.

My clothes were mismatched with winter and summer items. Black jean shorts, one leg to mid-thigh, the other to my knee. Knee-high black and green socks under half-shredded high-tops. A black hoodie with green striped over a black torn top. The fabric all patched together with needle and thread, small holes littering it all. Head to toe, I looked perfect from afar, I looked half dead from up close.

Sanitation was lacking for those who were unfortunate enough to land here, a simple tin tub with cold water and a bar of soap for everyone to share made do for baths. Yes, it was better than others, but it was still painful to live in. Drafts of cold air seeped under the tent, or through gaps in the wooden box that we slept in. More often than not someone was ill, and everyone had to give up their blankets to keep them alive. It didn’t always work, a weak child being carried out in a tarp once every two months. You got used to it over time, seeing people lying in their beds, chest still, unmoving. We blessed them when we woke up to it, praying that they would be reborn without a quirk.


“Deku! On the stage now!” The stage hand shouted to me, standing by a rope, holding the curtains.

I scrambled up, running to the stage hand, pulling up my hood. It cover the top part of my face, only showing my cheeks and mouth. It would come down soon, when the show truly began, but for now I wanted the comfort of knowing that they couldn’t see the demon they paid to watch.