Mr. Bag O' Bones

The Multiverse is a strange place. Hell, stranger still. For as long as Heaven has stood tall, Hell has dreamed of rising to meet it, only to be beaten back, humbled, and reminded of its place. Direct war was never an option. Every attempt ended the same way: Overwhelming divine force, swift defeat, and centuries of bitter silence.

So, a few hundred thousand years ago, give or take, depending on which universe you ask, a particularly creative demon tried something different. He didn't aim for conquest, he aimed for a, sort of tradition.

Once every year, at the same moment across nearly every universe in existence (Earth calendars would later label it Halloween), the dead would stir. Humanoid-adjacent skeletal remains clawed their way out of graves, crypts, and battlefields alike. Animated by infernal necromancy, they rose with a singular purpose; To wage war on the living.

This event became known as the Skeleton War. The reanimated skeletons were demonically enhanced, granted unnatural coordination, eerie speed, and an infectious, maniacal laughter that echoed as they charged. They armed themselves with whatever they could grasp: swords, clubs, farming tools, broken glass, rusted spears. Their goal was to simply kill mortals, and laugh while doing it.

On paper, it sounded terrifying. In reality? It was a joke.

Skeletons, after all, are still skeletons. Their enhancements stopped well short of durability. They shattered under blunt force, collapsed under gunfire or lasers, and were routinely dismantled by panicked civilians with improvised weapons. Across the vastness of the Multiverse, casualties among the living were absurdly low.

The annual war became sorta infamous. Not for its horror, but just for its utter failure.

The Skeleton War was widely regarded as the most pathetic recurring conflict in cosmic history. A seasonal inconvenience at best. Heaven literally never even acknowledged it, mortals turned it into costumes, decorations, and parties, even Hell treated it like an inside joke after a while. And every year, without fail, the skeletons were destroyed and they got their bony asses handed to them.

But, not quite. Once, out of the trillions upon trillions of skeletons raised across countless realities, one broke tradition. One skeleton did not fall. He survived and managed to live on.>

His name? It was Mr. Bag O' Bones. But, he would become legend.