Disclaimer: "Umineko" belongs to Ryukishi; "Twilight" belongs to Stephanie Meyer. I would just like to say that I neither like nor dislike Twilight, nor do I have a problem with those who do like it as long as they are sane and rational over it (some of my friends like it and they are perfectly nice people) and don't act over-zealous. This is just a parody not to be taken too seriously. Some events will be changed slightly to accomodate the setting. And expect Battler to act more like "Bella", which he even comments on at one point.

Also, I'm going to try a little test run in giving this the "English dub" treatment. And this will contain some accurate SPOILERS for Ep7.

I'd never given much thought to how I would die. Sometimes, I'd think seriously about it and imagine the usual, melodramatic "dying of soap opera disease with my family around me" scenario. Other times, I'd imagine drowning in chocolate. What I never imagined was standing face-to-face with the one thing I had denied all my life, that which I claimed never existed, that which I thought never existed…until now.

My name is Battler Ushiromiya. And I hate my life. Hate it, hate it, hate it. First, my old bastard of a man waits for my mom to croak before running off with one of many women in his harem—okay, I like Kyrie; she's really nice…but my life still sucks! I had to live with my grandparents, who gave me cookies and milk every day after school…but those cookies had raisins!

Okay, not really. But even so, just as I came to love them, they died, one after another, and I had to go back to live with Rudolf, only to find some other kid who is actually adorable and who I actually love—but I still hate my life! The cherry on top of my miserable life? My dad made us all pack up and move to Rokkenjima, where we were to live with the rest of our family for the rest of our miserable lives.

There I was, brooding in chagrin over my God-awful miserable life…and then she came along.

The Golden Witch, Beatrice.

It happened by chance. I was walking past her portrait one morning, where I scoffed at it with chagrin:

"A witch, huh? Like hell you exist! Next thing I know, Maria will be going on about how you're the Golden Vampire or something like that, ihihi!"

Maybe I shouldn't have been such a wisecrack. Maybe I should've kept my mouth shut. Had she heard me? Had she been offended by what I had said, and felt the need to prove herself to me? Who knows. All I know is that one minute I was walking along the beach, the next I was suddenly swept up in a tidal wave and being dragged out to sea.

There I was, sinking further and further into the depths of the sea, which blinded my view…my life flashed before my eyes…and I realized…how much my childhood sucked.

Just as I was drifting through the memory of the time the old bastard was explaining to my mom that today was "men wear make-up" day at work to explain the lipstick on his face…I saw her. Her golden hair, her crystal eyes, her skin sparkling in the sun…

No, wait, that was just the reflection of the sun shining off of her wet skin in the water, but I digress. She pulled me out and dragged me back to shore. I wanted to scream at her to put me down, that this shouldn't be happening, that she shouldn't exist…but I didn't. There was something…captivating about her. Something…ethereal. I knew my life would change because of her. Whether it was for the better or the worse, I had no idea.

What I was certain of were three things: First, that Beatrice was some lunatic claiming to be a witch.

Second, that there was a part of her, and I didn't know how dominant that part was, that wanted to turn me into her bitch.

And third, that I was unconditionally and irrevocably, in disgust with her.

What did we spend our long afternoons talking about? Nothing much. We just sat and gazed upon each other's beauty before I would raise an argument as to why she shouldn't exist and she would argue back that yes she did exist and I should just man up and acknowledge it.

We were just fine with this way of life until one day, we were paid a visit by Bernkastel, Lambdadelta, and Eva-Beatrice. I'm not quite sure why, but they all wanted my blood for some reason or another. So then Virgilia and Ronove cooked up a simple scheme to guarantee my safety. First, I yell at the old bastard that I hate him and never want to see him again. Second, I hop in the nearest boat for shore and stay locked up in a hotel. Third, I stay there until it is safe to come out again.

The first step went especially well, as did the second. However, I received a strange call saying that Ange was in danger and I should come rescue her right away without telling anyone else. On the one hand, I knew it had to be some sort of trap that would most likely end in a slow, painful death, and that if I were to go I'd be better off taking Beatrice with me. On the other, a ball had fallen out of the sky and hit me over the head. When I picked it up, there were two words scrawled across it: "Idiot Ball".

I took this as a sign that I was supposed to go alone and not tell anyone. I went back to the island, and I had been on the docks for only a second when BAM—Eva-Beatrice shoved her hideous troll face into mine and cackled, "You're sooooo stupid! Why don't you just give up and d~ie?"

And that was how I found myself dangling over a boiling cauldron while the witches kept trolling me in the background: "Shannon and Kanon are the same person!" "You're romancing your aunt!" "The anime exists!"

Yeah, I'm not sure what the last one was about. But just as they were about to devour me, Beatrice came bursting in through the front doors and proclaimed: "That's my bitch!" Refusing to let Beatrice have her way, Lambdadelta started up the process of slowly turning me into a sorcerer…and then…I blacked out.

When I woke up, I was informed I missed the coolest battle of the century that ended in Lambdadelta being turned into goat food. So not only am I having confusing feelings about something that's the result of a wet dream from puberty, I blacked out just to miss some awesome battle. It's useless, it's all useless!

Over the next few months, things were peaceful. Things were calm. And then came…my birthday. Ugh, how I hated my birthday. I hated it when Jessica gave me that sweater I've always wanted. I hated it when Aunt Eva baked me a cake in my favourite flavour. I hated it when Uncle Krauss smiled at me and said, "Happy birthday, Battler! You must feel like a man today!" Okay, maybe it wasn't so bad…but I hated it when everyone was nice to me! It sucked!

Oh, and the worst part? I accidentally cut my finger, and it causes a battle between the ass-nee chans because they all wanted me to become their stake food. And to top it all off, Beatrice announced, "Now that I have made you emotionally dependant on me, I am now going to leave you."

Why did she want to leave me? "So I can think of new colours to introduce into our debates. Colours make ours debates sooo much more interesting, kyahahaha!"

And for some odd reason, when she left…I suddenly found myself screaming "UUUWAAHHH MAH WAIFUUU UWAAAAAHHHHH!" And I kept demanding to have my waifu back, and nobody would listen to me.






"Shut up and stop whining you little brat!" snapped the old bastard. "I've put up with your temper tantrums long enough!"

And then…he made me do the unthinkable: He forced me to go outside and make new friends. I always knew he was a bastard. It did me more harm than good, though, because I met Erika Furudo, aka proof that the devil can reproduce. She pulled me out of my depression by getting me to talk with her about mystery novels, which is good I guess, but did she have to be so damn obnoxious about it? Like the time we were solving "The Murder of Roger Ackroyd"—she had already figured out the solution by page three. I called her BS on it, only to sink to the ground in despair when she was absolutely right.

"Simply by this level of reasoning," she had said, "this was already possible. What do you think everyone?"

Everyone in my family thought she was oh so charming. But my misery did not end there. It only got worse when Bernkastel declared her desire for revenge on me, because she thought I was somehow responsible for Lambdadelta turning into goat food. Why? I'll never know. What I do know is that Beatrice thought I had successfully thrown myself off a cliff (well, I had tried, but I ended up falling on top of Erika, who had been searching for a potential murder case to solve) and began denying her own existence because if I wasn't alive, she didn't want to live, either.

Which struck me as oddly out-of-character, but hey, so did my sudden need to hate my family for being nice to me. Maybe it's just the hormones.

Just as she was about to make the final claim that would deny her existence as a witch, and therefore give Bernkastel cause to feed her to the goats, Virgilia and I stepped in and saved the day. Well, actually, Virgilia saved the day by saying she had predicted that I would one day become a sorcerer, which technically wasn't a lie—she had borrowed Jessica's Magic 8 ball and asked "Will Battler become a sorcerer?" She had to shake it a few times before it answered "YES". But it got the witches to back off for the time being. Beatrice apologized for how she had broken my heart, and promised to turn me into a sorcerer on the condition that I marry her. Of course, I still say witches don't exist, but I didn't want to lose her again either. It's useless, it's all useless!

Months later, Beatrice grows fickle. Turns out she actually didn't want to turn me into a sorcerer after all. Why? "Because you'd accidentally kill yourself on the first day by denying your own existence." Well, she had a point. And those damn witches were at it again—there was a massive trolling spree across the island. The witches refused to stop trolling the family. To make matters worse, they were trolling with red text. It was horrible—you couldn't go anywhere without hearing and seeing: "Ange, you make a delicious hamburger!" "You're all romancing the same person!" "There will be a second season to the anime!"

Again, I didn't know what the hell the third one meant. But they would all be concluded with a trolling cackle. We knew they had to be stopped. And so, we prepared to fight a lengthy battle. During the preparations, Beatrice and Erika started acting…weird. Really, really weird. Beatrice tried to make me wear a chain collar so I would never leave her, and she could always give me a walk and let me out to go to the bathroom. When I escaped, Erika kept trying to kiss me, and when I tried to punch her to get her to back off, I broke a nail.

So there I was, being bounced back and forth between two crazy witches/bitches/pretty much the same thing, when the trolling witches prepared to strike again. The three of us hid on a colder part of the island, and silly me, I left my jacket behind. Beatrice was in "tsun" mode, so I had no choice but to cuddle up next to Erika's bosom to keep myself warm. Being a tit sommelier, she wasn't that satisfying, unfortunately.

The next day, two great battles were fought. The first was the battle of the Trolls. Ultimately, we won, and Bernkastel was forced to retreat. The battle wasn't too bloody, and most of us got out pretty fine. The truly bloody battle, however, was between "Team Beatrice" and "Team Erika". It turned out that, in an effort to get me to pick one or the other, Beatrice and Erika had begun their individual propaganda campaigns to convince my family to root for my choice between them. And I found this out by walking into the dining room and nearly getting my head blown off by Maria, who had a shotgun labelled "TEAM BEATRICE". It's useless, it's all useless.

After a long, bloody battle between "Team Beatrice" and "Team Erika", it ultimately came to a truce, and so I married Beatrice, had a sexy honeymoon that oddly resembled rape, and got pregnant.

What the hell?

See, I didn't believe Ronove when he first diagnosed me as pregnant. So I went for a second opinion. And a third. And a fourth. And a fifth. And a six. And finally, a seventh.

I was knocked up.

After reading that witches couldn't have children.

When I confronted Beatrice over this little fact, she said, "Actually, witches can't bear children, but they can still make children."

So I took up my dramatic pose and demanded she explain how this could be possible in red. And so she said:

"When witches have intercourse with male men, the egg is sucked inside the male's body and is fertilized by the man's sperm. The egg then wanders up to the abdominal cavity and is implanted."

Now, I'm no expert in biology, but I knew there was something just plain wrong with that explanation. When I said so, she said, "If I told you it was just "magic", you'd object. But this scientific explanation is so much better, right Baattleer~?"

Knowing it was all useless, I decided I might as well carry the kid to term. I had been warned a male pregnancy could be potentially dangerous, but for some strange reason I had a strong desire to carry a child in my belly and call it "Kyrisumu", after my two mothers. Oh sure, the kid would probably have to put up with a lot of teasing, but hey—the old bastard put me through it, so why should my kid be spared?

It was a difficult pregnancy, more difficult than most. Every morning, I would vomit up blood and then drink it back up to replenish myself. I had cravings for hamburgers shaped like my sister. And Beatrice would claim she could hear the kid talk and claim how much it loved me (when I attributed it to the pot she was smoking, she would smack me). And for some odd reason, Erika was drawn to my growing belly. She claimed she just felt naturally drawn to me for some reason, as she had never thought it was possible for a man to get pregnant. Well, neither did I, but this proved anything can happen.

And then came the day of the birth. It happened unexpectedly; I had just gotten out of the shower when I vomited up a gush of blood at the same time my water broke. I collapsed and blacked out. When I woke up, I was lying down in my bed with my legs spread and oooohhh God it huuuurrrrt…

I was going to deliver it the natural way. Beatrice had turned me into a sorcerer without my knowledge just so I could deliver it the natural way. I snapped, "Why don't you just perform a c-section with your teeth you biiiiioooohhhh…."

Ronove, who looked a little too eager to watch me push something out of areas I never thought I could push something out of, was the one to deliver. I could hear him encouraging me to push. With each agonizing push, I'd let out a scream of agony, and my bones would break one by one as I coughed up more blood. Just before blacking out and hearing a baby's cry I thought: It's useless…it's all useless….


"Eh?" I woke up with a start. "What…?" The light in my room went on just as Kyrie poked her head in through the door.

"It's time to get ready," said Kyrie. "We're going to the airport soon."

I groaned and rubbed my neck, thankful to know that I still cared for my family, that witches did not exist, that men could not get pregnant, and that it was all just a dream.

A dream I had on the twilight.

The end