He was only known as Happy, for once in his younger life, he always sported a smile, which to many people, distracted from his hollowed-out-eye stare.
Happy used to run a library; he was proud of that job, and proud of being the keeper of books. The keeper of memories.
He organized each one by color, never mixing them up, always keeping the covers without dust. It would take him eons to do so, for time in the library passed differently. Much, much slower. In the outside world, two days were simply 48 hours, but inside, it would feel much like those 48 hours fit within two.
So Happy never aged. He stayed young--but also because he chose to.
Everyone called him by his name, although some of his brothers called him Child, or The Kid, but only one sibling called him the Yellow Bird.
Happy would sing from time to time, always listening to old school hip-hop and rap over the Library's speakers. He danced as well, maybe not so good, but to him, it was the most amazing feeling in the entire universe. Like nothing could destroy it.
Happy wasn't a stranger to destruction, however, for during his organizing and singing and dancing he would hear about The Wars. He would also have to organize the books about them, and always got sad when he read them. Happy just wanted his family to get along--to stop hurting one another.
Then time passed as most things do, and the Library got ransacked for the very first time. Happy was distraught. The books had spilled over and he knew that it would take a lot more work to reorganize them. Especially because now he needed to make sure each one was accounted for. It was going to take a long, long, long, long time, but Happy knew he was the only one for the job. So he stuck around and did it.
Eventually, in every story, we reach the Now.
Happy had left the library long ago, something he never did before, but after the latest Incident, he vowed to bring upon peace and restore the bond his family once had that was now broken.
Because Happy left the Library, his body started acclimating to the outside world, it started growing old. Aging rather quickly.
Happy now walked through the New Mexico desert, a place where he once had read his favorite character had passed through. He knew that in certain stories, certain timelines, in order to bring about Order, one must first create Chaos.
And as Happy walked and walked for miles, his hair graying, his skin deteriorating, his hollowed eye sockets now full with dust and sand, he stopped feeling...well...Happy. He felt angry now. He carried rage and hate, and disgust. He then remembered a comic strip he had read once upon a time. One in which his favorite character also grew old and angry. Angry at himself. Just like how Happy felt now.
Happy got lost in that story. So much that it swallowed him whole.
In the desert, many many years from then and now, his body rose up from the sand.
Happy popped out his claws, like his childhood hero and protagonist, and started running. Running through the desert until he reached a cave. One where he knew the Man made of Coal and Volcano Ash was sleeping.
Happy entered the cave, unable to see his long lost sibling, but he could smell him.
"Yellow Bird?" the voice called out from within the darkness of the cave. "Is that you?"
"Mister Roman. Yes, it is me," Happy answered.
"Tell me, are you familiar with Plato's Allegory of the Cave?"
"No time for riddles this time, Mister Roman. You are my number one."
And so it was then that Happy ran towards where his sibling's voice called out, claws out in the open, stabbing him in the chest. Roman hit the wall behind him, feeling his brother's claws deep within his skin. Then noticed the small ray of light that made it into the cave. Roman wondered if he could escape towards it, feel its warmth. He now felt cold; multiple shivers down his spine. Then the ray of light reached them both. Shining right over Happy's face.
Roman got a good look at him now; he was scarred, his skin almost all completely peeled off. This time, however, something was completely different. Roman looked into those hollowed-out eyes of his. He saw something in them... this time there was no nothing, but something.
Something that chilled him to the bone.
"Ye-ye-yellow Bird, won't you won't you s-s-sing me a s-s-song?" Roman pleaded, shakily.
Happy just stood there, unmoved, but with his claws still tearing Roman's insides.
"P-p-please.. Don't." Roman struggled to breathe and talk as he started spitting out ash. It dripping from his eyes and the holes in his chest.
Then Happy started singing.
"You knew I am a psycho, I told you I'm a psycho. Really... I'm a psycho. Why, why, why? Really. You knew I'm a psycho. I told you I'm a psycho. Violent schizophrenia, you know I'm gonna getcha!"
Then Roman started hearing the music play on repeat. Happy pulled his claws out from Roman's chest and as he fell on his knees, Happy continued singing.
"You know.... I'm gonna getcha, getcha, getcha! HAHAHAHAHAHAH!"
Then Happy started dancing around him as Roman let out his last breath and a pack of crows flew out, escaping the cave and following the ray of light.
These crows would be emissaries to warn the others. To warn them that Death was coming for them all...and it wore a Happy grin on its face.