I Just Love Killin' (Worm/Rick and Morty Crossover)

Intro and Part 1.1
WARNING: CONTAINS RICK AND MORTY SPOILERS.

Hi guys! This is the first time I’ve posted to SB. I’ve written product copy professionally for a while now, but have never tried an actual story. The only reason I did this snippet was because I missed Krombopulous' character. If ya’ll enjoy the premise and style, I’ll try to crank out some more.

Summary: Instead of a boring old Shard, Taylor receives the spirit of Krombopulous Michael, the friendly intergalactic assassin. Can an idealistic girl make a difference with the help of one cheerful hitman?

Caveats:

-You do NOT need knowledge of Rick and Morty for this story, but if you haven’t seen the show, you should go watch it anyways.
-There will be some technological hand-waving involved, so if you’re a “hard” sci-fi fan, this story may not be for you.
-Constructive criticism is welcome. Empty negativity and ad hominem attacks are not.
-I’ve probably read more Worm fanfic than the original material at this point, so I may occasionally fall victim to “The Fanon.” Sorry.

<*><*><*>

Krombopulous Michael, hired killer extraordinaire, leveled his newly acquired antimatter pistol at the Target and began to pull the trigger. Unfortunately, a bare fraction of a second before he could discharge his weapon, a small intergalactic vessel plowed through the wall behind him and crushed him neatly against the floor. Thus, the assassin’s life came to a sudden and somewhat anticlimactic close.

Normally, his physical demise would result in his soul’s migration to planes unknown. However, the fatal crash also caused a fractional loosening of one of the dimensional-locking bonds that held the Target in place. For an instant, a pulse of instability rippled across the boundaries that defined the current dimension. The end result was that Krombopulous’ ascending essence, in effect, slipped through the cracks of the universe. The collection of desires and memories that made up Krombopulous Michael slid across the infinite strata of the multi-verse, following the path of least resistance.

Then, suddenly, a semi-static point appeared in the roiling chaos. It was not quite an empty vessel, as the cycle of rebirth usually demanded, but it was well-suited for another soul to take root. To Krombopulous, it shone like a glittering lighthouse in a sea of darkness.

He drew closer to the Vessel, but was intercepted by another presence.

[PROVENANCE?]

It did not speak, as such, but rather issued forth a packet of direct meaning.

“Howdy,” Krombopulous sent in reply.

[DESTINATION?]

“Oh, I’m headed down there.” He tried to point, but realized he no longer had claws.

[NEGATION. LINK PRIORITY ESTABLISHED. ADJUST TRAJECTORY.]

“Hmm, I guess you had dibs on that body. You sure you can’t let me have this one?”

[NEGATION.]

“Oh, boy. Well, sorry about this, then.”

Krombopulous slid forward and seized the other presence. He wasn’t totally clear on the particular mechanics of the situation, but even as an incorporeal thought-form, he was a competent and enthusiastic killer. He began to quickly disassemble the other entity.

[NEGATION. NEGATION. SEVERE DAMAGE DETECTED. NEGATION. FATAL ERROR.]

“Yeah, that’s usually how it is.”

After a brief struggle, the other presence dissolved.

“Well, that was refreshing. Time to go.” He gathered his strength and descended.

<*><*><*>

I had never screamed so loudly in my life. I still wanted to scream, but I could no longer manage anything more than a hoarse gurgle. I tried to control my breathing, but each breath brought more of the rot, the hideously pungent smell of decaying blood that singed my sinuses. I might have blacked out a few times, although I couldn’t be sure.

Worse than anything, though, worse than the pain and the fear, was the despair. The bald, unflinching certainty that I was completely helpless and that no one was going to save me. I was going to die covered in filth, with people barely a few feet away, because I was so unimportant that no one could be bothered to help me. Everyone, including the teachers, had looked the other way for the rest of the torture The Trio had put me through. Why not turn a blind eye one last time, until I was dead?

I shuddered, and something broke in me. I stopped banging on the locker door and weeping. It was almost peaceful. Was this what it felt like to drown? To struggle and struggle, and then just… let go, as the waters closed over your head?

Then, a piercing headache struck me like a nail being driven into the base of my skull. I gasped and clutched at my head, sliding down even further into the pile of filth. The pain writhed up and down my neck and my jaw spasmed wildly. Was I having a stroke? Slowly, the agony began to subside to a single point and then vanished.

“Hiya!” a chipper voice said.

I flinched. The voice sounded like it came from right next to my ear.

“What… who?” I rasped.

“Oh, right! Where are my manners? I’m Krombopulous Michael, nice to meet ya.”

I was going crazy. That was nice. My brain was shutting down, and I was hallucinating as the last synapses fired off.

“What’s your name?” the voice prompted, after a long pause.

What the hell. What did I have to lose at this point? I might as well talk to the voices.

“Taylor.”

“Great, that’s a very nice name, I love it. So, Taylor, it looks like you’re in a bit of a pickle.”

I couldn’t help it. The situation had gotten too absurd. If I didn’t laugh, I was going to cry. So I started to laugh. Or well, my chest shook and I sort of made choking noises.

“You could say that,” I said, once my hysteria died down.

The voice sighed. “Yup, pretty nasty. Haven’t smelled anything this gross since I crawled up that septic pipe on Krebulon. Well, anyways, let’s get us out of here.”

“Us? Where are you? You know what, never mind, I’m going crazy, I don’t even know why I’m talking to you.”

“Hmm. To answer your first question, it looks like I’m hitching a ride in your noggin. Don’t know how, doesn’t matter. Let’s focus on the more immediate problem.” A short pause. “Oh, and if you are crazy, don’t worry, I don’t judge. I’m very open minded.”

“Uh… okay?”

“Haha, that’s the spirit! Don’t let a little schizophrenia get you down. Anyways, don’t worry, we’ll be out of here in no time. They haven’t made a prison that can hold me.”

The casual way he said that made me shiver. “O-okay. What do I do?”

“Hmm. You wouldn’t happen to have a knife, would you?”

“A knife? I’m at school!”

“…So that’s a no?”

“Ugh… yes, that’s a no.” My voice was starting to give out entirely.

The voice I was now mentally calling “K” made a tsk sound. “It’s always good to have a knife. Well, no biggie. Feel around the edges of the door for me, would ya?”

I leaned forward and complied. Having something to do, something that might help, gave me a glimmer of hope to latch onto.

“Aha!” K cried. “There’s the lock. It doesn’t look too tough; I’ve gotten out of worse. You ready for the next part?”

“Y-yes.”

“Great, you’re doing great. I need you to wedge yourself as far back as you can get. Brace your shoulders against the wall behind you.”

I shifted around as best as I could in the cramped space. I ended up having to turn my torso quite a bit to get any leverage.

“Good, good. Can you get your leg up?”

My thighs burned from being stuck in one position, but I managed to lift my right leg.

“Okay, good. Now, kick as close to the lock as you can without hitting the lock itself. Just really give it a go.”

I lashed out and felt a small but negligible shift in the door frame. I snarled in frustration.

“Don’t sweat it, kiddo, we’ll get it. Drive from the hip. Imagine kicking through the door, not at it.”

So it went. I kicked over and over again, occasionally accepting a correction from K. After an especially hard kick, I heard a metallic creaking sound and froze.

“Right on!” K said. “That’s what we were waiting for. Take a breather and get ready for the last push.”

I closed my eyes and grinned viciously. I was going to do it. Fuck The Trio, and fuck everyone that looked the other way. I was going to escape on my own. Or, well, with the help of my hallucination.

“Ready,” I said.

“Never doubted it. Feel around the lock again.” I did so, and felt a few places where the metal was bent. “Okay, looking good. Kick just above that bendy bit there.”

I sent a few more kicks and was rewarded with another squeal of tortured metal. Yes, yes! I slammed my foot forward with all my remaining strength.

Thud.

I.

Thud.

Am.

Thud.

Going.

Thud.

To LIVE!

With a final clank, the locker door crunched outward, spilling me forward in a cascade of rotten tampons and victory. As I began to black out, I heard K’s voice.

“Nice work! See you on the other side.”

- - -
AN: Yep, it's a locker scene. What sin, what travesty! I hope the dialog makes up for it. :)
 
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...oh most holy of Gods, does Michael still have a way of getting a hold of Rick? Because that's bad...you know, for everyone not named Taylor Hebert.
 
Huh, well this is interesting. From what little we see of Michael we know that he has a very positive attitude and some serious assassin skills, which together would paint him as a charismatic super killer. I don't see his move-set being all too amazing in Worm unless he has some way to get in contact with alien tech like you see in Rick and Morty. As a serious story, I wonder how far can Michael get Taylor to go, and as a comedic story I'm looking forward to watching the journey.
 
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wertsir

Mother of Monsters
I don't see his move-set being all too amazing in Worm unless he has some way to get in contact with alien tech like you see in Rick and Morty.
Which we have every reason to believe he does.

Not only did he somehow manage to get in contact with Rick (not an easy feat in and of itself) but he is also a member of the species that ran interdimensional customs, (or a variation thereof) all he would need to do is build an interdimensional cell-phone to contact the greater intergalactic federation and let them know that there is an advanced life-form here, wait to be picked up and put in prison, then inevitably escape and buy some guns.

That, or maybe just pay the extra flerbos to call an interdimensional Uber to get him off of this backwater hodunk planet.
 
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Which we have every reason to believe he does.

Not only did he somehow manage to get in contact with Rick (not an easy feat in and of itself) but he also is a member of the species that ran interdimensional customs, (or a variation thereof) all he would need to do is design an interdimensional cell-phone to contact the greater intergalactic federation and let them know that there is an advanced life-form here, wait to be picked up and put in prison, then inevitably escape and buy some guns.

That, or maybe pay the extra flerbos to call an interdimensional Uber to get him out of this backwater hodunk planet.
Turns out the Entities are also wanted by the Galactic Federation.
 
Krombopulous is True Neutral.
I'm pretty sure he isn't. I mean, he's an assassin. Not an Assassin's Creed-type assassin, mind, where they have good reasons for doing what they do, but an "I kill people for money" kind of assassin. There's a reason why the Assassin Prestige Class has an alignment requirement of "Any Evil".
 

Dolly Fail Fail

Formerly 'failbird105'
I'm pretty sure he isn't. I mean, he's an assassin. Not an Assassin's Creed-type assassin, mind, where they have good reasons for doing what they do, but an "I kill people for money" kind of assassin. There's a reason why the Assassin Prestige Class has an alignment requirement of "Any Evil".
Krombopulous doesn't really kill for the money either, although that's an added bonus. As the both title of the fic and he himself clearly state. He just loves killing. He will kill LITERALLY ANYONE that you hire him to kill. And he will enjoy it, he has, and I quote, "No code of ethics". I'm not disputing his alignment. I'm just clarifying.
 

wertsir

Mother of Monsters
Murder is not inherently an evil act. Paladins kill people all the damned time.

See a goblin? kill it. see a demon? kill it. see a necromancer? kill it. Dude with a sword attacks you because you serve a different king? kill him.

In fact, the majority of time in most RPG's is spent killing things, or getting better tools to kill things with.

Krombopulos just skips the boring parts, he doesn't kill out of cruelty or malice, he just loves killing. he doesn't seem to draw out their deaths or make them more painful than they have to be, he is efficient.

He is polite to the people he is not actively killing, and in fact seems like a perfectly pleasant person outside of that. his actions seem to be more an expression of his base nature than anything else (IE: he just loves killing) and in the absence of other negative traits I would classify this as neutral. (It is certainly not chaotic or lawful, and good and evil require deliberate actions. Kromby is really more of a force of nature. (If Krombopulos Michael wants someone dead, there's not a lot anyone can do to stop him" - The smartest guy in the universe central finite curve)).
 
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TheOrange

Slightly-above Minimum-wage Newsprint Jockey
Turns out the Entities are also wanted by the Galactic Federation.
This makes far, far too much sense. A species that destroys planets on a regular basis? That have access to precognition, teleportation, and continent destroying lasers? (albeit with heavy costs, but that's not the important part.)
Zion's bounty is going to be huge.
 

kuriboh1233

Self Insert Junkie
So Taylor is going to be Earth-Bet's Deadpool and good Ole KM is going to be her scizho-voice...hilarious. The only thing that could make this better is if Abridged!Alucard is voice number two.
 
Sadly, her inferior human physical abilities will mean she won't be able to act up to KM's standards. Happily he is nice enough to teach her how to get there :)
 
1.2
I did not bolt awake with a dramatic gasp. My consciousness returned in fits and starts, letting me catch small fragments of conversation before I was dipped repeatedly back into the foggy, surreal soup of fever dreams.

“TAYLOR! Oh my God, oh my God…”

I slip a blade neatly under the Target’s jaw.

”No witnesses have come forth thus far…”

I kneel in the moonlight, warm blood spilling down my face.

“What do you mean, they don’t know?”

A windpipe crunches under my fingers, and I smile.


My eyelids fluttered open, and I was greeted with the most monstrous and all-consuming headache I’d ever experienced. I groaned and pressed a hand against my forehead.

I felt someone grab my hand. “Taylor, are you awake, sweetie?”

I craned my cramped neck to see Dad at my bedside. “Uh-huh.” My throat felt like it was full of sand. “Water?” I tried to ask. It came out sounding more like “Waah?”

Dad pushed a plastic cup of water into my hand, and I chugged it so fast that I sputtered and choked. Ow. Not helping my headache.

“Where’m I?” I asked, once my coughing had subsided.

“Brockton General. The cops said you were passed out in the hallway at your school.”

My jaw tightened and I looked away. “Is that all they said?”

Dad put a hand on my knee. “Something about possible assault. What happened, sweetheart?”

I bit my lip hard and forced down the lump in my throat. “They… pushed me in.”

“Pushed you? Who did?”

“Them, okay? Those fucking three! They shoved me in my locker with all that…” I bit the sentence off. He didn’t understand any of the context of what I was saying.

Dad’s eyes widened at my outburst. “Are you saying you know who attacked you?”

My eyes fell to my lap. “It doesn’t matter. They’re not going to get in trouble. Just… just let it go, okay?”

Dad leaned forward, his eyes hard, and I flinched despite myself. “No, it’s not goddamn okay. You tell me right now, Taylor.”

I start to deflect, but I found that the typical reassurances wouldn’t come out. It wasn’t okay. I wasn’t fine. I didn’t want my shit-pile life to tip over onto my Dad, but it was like I was packed so full of misery that I just vomited it all up. I ended up telling him everything, including all the events that had led up to the locker.

I hated seeing his reactions. Nausea. Rage. Despair. His compassion was too heavy. It made my pain more real, somehow. There was a long time where my Dad just held me as I shook uncontrollably.

“Why, Taylor? Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell me?” His visible guilt stung me.

“I couldn’t, Dad. There was nothing… I couldn’t do that to you.”

“Do what? Confide in me? I’m your father! Don’t you trust me?” Another sting.

“I do! I do. It was just too much. With Mom, and your job, and everything. It was too much to deal with.”

He cursed. “I don’t want that, Taylor! I know I haven’t… been a perfect dad, since your Mom passed, but you should be able to talk to me.”

Yes, I should. But you haven’t been in any shape to talk about anything.

But there are some things that can’t be said out loud. “Okay,” I said, “I’ll try to talk to you more.” I wanted the words to be true, but they tasted like lies in my mouth.

“That’s all I can ask for.” He smiled sadly for a moment, but then I saw rage flare up on his face again. “I still can’t believe that Emma would do that to you. If Alan knows about it…” The threat hung unspoken.

“Dad, please don’t. I can’t have you go to jail.”

“Taylor, Emma and those girls have been torturing you. You could’ve died in there. I don’t care if Alan’s a lawyer, if he’s been covering for her, I’m going to-”

“Dad, stop!” I yelled. “That isn’t going to do anything. Just… don’t. Please?” I gave him my best pleading face.

For an uneasy few seconds, it seemed that he would stand up and storm out anyways. But at length, he sagged back into his chair. “Okay, okay,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “But I’m going to talk to the school, and you’re giving a statement to the cops. Those girls put you in the hospital. This shit isn’t going to stand.”

Fat lot of good that’ll do. But I decided not to say anything. Dad needed to believe that he could do something, and I didn’t want to tread on his hopes.

“Alright. I think I need to sleep. I’ll be okay by myself for a while; you should get back to work.”

“Are you sure? I can stay. The guys will survive without me for a day.”

“Dad, no. Please, just go. Please. I’ll be fine. I’m just gonna sleep.”

He hesitated, then smiled. “Okay, sweetheart, if that’s what you want.” He kissed me on my forehead before he left.

<*><*><*>

I closed my eyes, and the full weight of the situation began to settle on me. I could have fucking died. The only thing that kept me alive was the fact that I had a bout of… what? Temporary insanity? A nervous breakdown? I peered around surreptitiously.

Once I saw the coast was clear, I whispered, “K?”

A tense moment of silence. Phew. It looked like it wasn’t-

“Hey there!” A familiar voice piped up. “I tried to give you a little space, on account of your dad being here.”

Oh God. It wasn’t a temporary thing. Was I going to hear voices for the rest of my life? I guess it was a small price to pay for being alive, but… what was I supposed to do? I decided to play along.

“Uh, thanks. For that, and for… you know, before.” Very smooth. I was even awkward talking to my imaginary friend.

“Oh sure, no biggie.”

“Right. So, sorry, but who are you, again? Things got a little… crazy.”

“Heh, don’t sweat it. Your first near death experience can be a doozy. I’m Krombopulous Michael, and I’m an assassin. You can keep calling me ‘K’ if you like, I know my name’s a bit of a mouthful. I’m not sure how I got into your head, but let’s make the best of it, alright?”

“An assassin. In my head.”

“Yup! I’ll kill anyone, anywhere, that’s my motto,” he said brightly. “Speaking of,” he continued, “I couldn’t help but overhear your troubles with those three girls. What do you say we murder them?”

He slipped the question in so casually that for a moment I found myself considering it. It wasn’t a terribly long moment, but I really didn’t want to start down the path where I listened to the homicidal voices. The President is a Reptilian and must die? Of course, Mr. Voice.

“Um, thank you for offering, but I don’t think I can do that.”

“Sure you can, it’s easy! I’ll walk you through it.”

“Well, I don’t mean I can’t, I mean I won’t. I won’t kill them just because they’re bullies. Killing is… wrong.”

A long pause, followed by a chuckle. “Okay. You seem like a smart girl, Taylor, so I’m going to be straight with you. This is your body, and it looks like I’m just a passenger. But I would like to keep, uh, doing what I do best, and it looks like the only way I can do that is by working through you. I’m not picky; I’ll help you kill anyone you want.”

I opened my mouth to refute him, but he cut me off. “Ah, hold on. I know it sounds a little out there right now, but once you hear me out, I’m sure we can come to a compromise. Quid pro quo and all that jazz.”

I fiddled with the IV in my wrist. “Sorry, but I don’t think so. Honestly, I’m not completely convinced that you’re even real.”

K chortled. “I guess that’s fair. It’s a weird situation, for sure. But could you do me a favor? Just for the purposes of this conversation, assume that I am real?”

I supposed that I owed him that much. Whether he was real or not, he did help me get out of the locker. “Okay. I’ll try.”

“Thank you, Taylor. I understand it’s a bit of a leap. So, first thing’s first. Why don’t you tell me what you want?”

What did I want? I bit my lip as I considered the question. For the longest time, all I wanted was to survive. To go unnoticed. Could I aspire to something else? If so, where would I even start? Anger boiled low in in my gut. Was I so ground down and broken that I had no hope or desires?

“I want… to be strong. So I don’t have to worry about getting hurt.”

K hummed a bit to himself. “That’s an interesting one. But let me ask: is that something you can base your life around? Or is it just your fear talking?”

I snarled, ready to make an angry retort, but then froze. He was right. I even said it out loud. I didn’t want to worry. I was afraid. But that wasn’t going to be enough, not any more. I looked a little deeper, thinking about where I wanted my life to go. If I could do anything, what would it be? My first thoughts went to the city I lived in, the decay and the hopelessness.

“I want to make a difference,” I said.

“That’s better. How do you want to do that?”

“By helping people.”

“Good, but vague. How, exactly, do you want to help people? Give me an image.”

God, this was annoying. My headache was coming back. “I don’t know. Why does it matter? Why do you care?”

“Hey now, don’t sulk. Okay. Here. I’m one of the most successful assassins in the Galactic Federation. How do you think I got there?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” I muttered.

“What did I say about sulking? Sheesh. Anyways, I got to where I am, or well, was, because I know exactly what I want, and I have a passion for it. There are very few people who want it as bad as I do. I love being an assassin. I know it sounds corny, but if you’re not doing what you love, you’ll never reach your true potential.”

Bleh. It was like listening to a homicidal self-help book. But I couldn’t just lay there in sullen silence after he opened up like that. Even if what he shared with me was kind of terrifying. I racked my brain for true love, or whatever. Want, want, want. What did I want?

“Alright, alright, fine. I want to help people by protecting them from bad guys.” God, that sounded childish. But it was true. I wanted to make sure that people couldn’t be trampled and forgotten like I had been.

“Hoho, now we’re getting somewhere! Bad guys are just the worst, am I right? Makes you wanna just get rid of ‘em.”

“I’m not going to just start killing criminals, K,” I said flatly.

“What? Of course not. I never said that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“…Maybe you could kill just a few?”

“Oh my God, you don’t quit.”

“Darn right! That’s why I’m the best. But seriously, I’m not talking about all bad guys, but I’m sure there are some, you know, real nasty characters you could kill. The worst of the worst. People no one would miss.”

I winced a bit at that, but gave it more serious thought. There were people with Kill Orders on them, individuals who had committed acts so vicious and horrible that the government put a bounty on their heads. I explained the system to K briefly.

“…But those people are totally out of my league,” I said. “Mass murderers and super dangerous threats that are pretty much un-killable.”

“Now now, hold your horses. ‘Un-killable’ is a quitter word. The important question is: would you be willing to kill these… bad guys, if you could?”

I felt like I was suddenly standing over a very deep pit. Would I be willing to pursue and murder some of the worst serial killers in the world? I couldn’t half-ass something like that. Did I have the passion, as K put it, to pursue that goal wholeheartedly? No, this was stupid. I didn’t even have any powers. How could I hope to fight someone like Nilbog, or the Slaughterhouse Nine?

“I don’t think I could…”

K cut me off. “Hey, no. I asked: ‘would you, if you could?’ Don’t think about your capabilities right now. Think about your heart.”

I took a deep breath and tried my best to look into my “heart.” I imagined myself killing a person as bad as Jack Slash. Avenging his victims and making sure he could never hurt another soul. Making the world a better, safer place. It made me feel strong. Purposeful. But still, was that enough?

“I guess so. But I wouldn’t want to just be a killing machine. Most criminals don’t deserve to die. I’d want to put them in prison.”

“Hmm. Well, I did say it would be a compromise.” He paused. “Okay, how about this. First, I’ll train you up, teach you the business. It’ll be like Leon: The Professional, but without the brooding and weird sexual tension.”

“Huh?”

“What, you haven’t seen The Professional? Jean Reno? Gary Oldman? No? Jeez, teenagers these days. It’s a great assassin movie, we’ve gotta watch it. Anyways, once you get the basics down, you can practice on some street-level chumps. With… non-lethal take-downs, if you want.” I could feel K shudder with distaste. “And then, we’ll slowly ramp up to the real baddies, weapons free.” He made some pew pew sound effects, and I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Alright, I can agree to training with you. But that’s all, for now. I’m not promising to kill anybody,” I said firmly.

“That’s fair. But no sandbagging. And… try to keep an open mind?”

I was aware of the slippery slope beneath me, but I decided to agree to the spirit of the compromise.

“I can do that.”

And thus, I made my first deal with an assassin.

- - -
AN: Wow! I'm encouraged that so many people have liked my story thus far. Please keep the feedback coming, and don't hesitate to let me know if there's something I could improve. I'm here to learn.
 
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The best part is just how cheerful and reasonable Krombopulous Michael is being.

I mean, civilization will always have a need for killers with persistence and can-do attitude!
 
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