Keychain by Anonymous

https://i.imgur.com/DWYo84P.png
>It's been many years since Anon passed away.
>He was beaten to death by a group of thugs after loudly saying, as eye witnesses report, "Those seven dwarves over there better start mining for my keychain!"
>His grandson was visiting his grave, since it was the anniversary of his death.
>How he got laid is another story.
>His progeny stands at the foot of his grave now, mulling over his words.
>"Hi, grandpa. I'm sorry I never visited, but... I got something for you. I think you've been waiting for it."
>He pulled it out of his jacket pocket., feeling the cold steel chain in his hand.
>Anon was defined by his feverish, some would say unhealthy devotion to a visual novel named "Beat Beat Book Meet".
>Or something to that effect.
>He was a part of an internet community on one of the ancient hacker boards known as 4-chan
>His grandson recalled decades ago they made international news when they all joined some suicide pact to appease a random number generator, clogging the streets with their bodies.
>Everyone of some renown there scattered to the winds after that.
>Anon was known for having ordered a keychain from the developors website, and never recieving it. One of the characters, "Monique", was the one he chose.
>He stared down at the deformed artstyle on the end of the chain, depicting a purple haired girl with a pensive expression.
>And let it fall from his hands.
>"I'm sorry it took so long. Maybe it can give you peace, wherever you are."
>He turned his back on Anons resting place and walked away, nothing more needing to be said.
>Hours passed. The sun disappeared behind the horizon, from a sea of orange to an abyss of black pocked with light.
>Something stirred.
>Anon rose from his grave in an eruption of soil and roared.
>"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?"
>He clenches the keychain of Yuri in his hand once withered to bone, now flush with new life.
>"THIS IS THE WRONG FUCKING ONE YOU IMP!"
>Somewhere, a two foot tall geriatric manlet voids his bowels in fear.