[Sf] Trails of Death (T)

Chapter One:
"Waking Death"

Svorjan Province, USSR, 1956: Sgt. Adam J. Vechkov was killed in action at 13:37 hours during a conflict with American forces to hold the Gesyn Province. The defence was successful, but there were heavy losses. Sgt. Vechkov's body was transferred to Genchkov Labs for tests of an unknown nature. Later it was moved to a military base in the Svorjan Province.

----- ----- -----

A cold feeling. A darkened room. A stiff... bed?

W-what... Where? It was too dark to see anything, his eyes needed to adjust. He sat up on the camp bed he'd been lying down on. What was going on? He needed answers... But who was around to give them? He called out for someone.

Were his ears not working? He couldn't hear his voice. He... couldn't feel it either. He clapped his hands together. Yes, he could hear just fine. Then... had he lost his voice? Memories started pouring into his head... He'd been struck by a bullet... But where did it hit him? He dragged his fingers all along his neck, finally feeling an unusual smooth depression in the otherwise war-roughened skin.

Light flooded into the little room. He had to squint his eyes to see someone in a doorway, but everything became much more clear when the light of the room was flipped on. Two people. Both were in light blue clothes, and large white coats. Doctors, it seemed.

"Sergeant Adam?" He nodded at the doctor. "Right then. I'm Dr. Maximus Petrovyn, and behind me is Dr. Mariana Svelnya." The doctor half pointed behind himself. "I... have news for you... that may be hard to take." He nodded again. The doctor stepped into the room, with the other, this one female, right behind him. The two stood beside each other, right in front of him. "You were figuratively, and literally... a dead man." He fell over back onto the bed. Dead? That's not even possible, unless some deity had a strange sense of humor about the afterlife. "In fact, you are still figuratively dead, acording to war records."

Dr. Svelnya stepped forward and kneeled by the bed. "You see," she said in a soft, concerned voice. "You were fatally wounded by a bullet to your lower neck. Medical personnel weren't near enough to you to save you, not that it would have mattered." She stood back by Dr. Petrovyn.

"You died within minutes of being shot anyway, so even if they had been right next to you, you'd never have survived." The doctors stepped aside, and Petrovyn motioned his hand toward the door. "Come, please, Major General Devchkon has requested your presence." What kind of prank was this? Regardless of what confusion he felt, Adam stood up, shakily, and took a step forward. He fell down. Dr. Svelnya kneeled and helped him up, with a little help from Dr. Petrovyn, of whom she transferred the man's body. He made not that they avoided his neck, probably because of the injury. "Being dead makes your muscles rather limp. It'll probably a good few days before you properly have your motor skills back."

The walk to the office of Major General Devchkon wasn't all so long, as it was just plain awkward. Even with both doctors supporting him, Adam was having a great deal of difficulty getting his legs to stay firm for each step. Along the way Adam found out that almost every inch of his body had been covered in bandages, save for his nostrils, lips, neck, and eyes. Why was that? The doctors hadn't said anything about him being burned.

He would have gone through his mind further, but he was now nearing the office. The secretary there got up upon seeing him, and walked into Major General Devchkon's office to notify him that they were here. Moments more, and he was seated within the office, facing the Major General.

"So you say this man has the power?" The Major General stared at Adam, but had addressed Dr. Petrovyn.

"Yes, and no. I mean, he had the potential to harbor it, but I had to actually give it to him."

"Yes, hm, I see." Devchkon spoke rather dryly and leaning back into his chair, he opened a drawer in his desk. He pulled out a fairly small golden pin, and placed it right in front of Adam. It was shaped like a vertical oval, and on the center with a green star with a red skull in the middle. "Go with the Lieutenant over there," he nodded his head in the direction of a man who had just stepped into the office. "And get your uniform. Put this on it when you're done. After that, come back, and I'll introduce you to some friends." Adam looked behind the chair to locate the man, then turned back to the Major General. He nodded and stood, turning to the door, and following the man out.

Black. Nice and straightforward color. Adam took the clothes, still wondering why he was covered in bandages. The pants were solid black, fairly neat and tight, but still comfortable. Pretty regular black combat boots, if not a little long, were secured to his feet. His shirt was like a sweater, but far more durable, and covered in a black and grey camouflage pattern, with two shades of grey. Over top of this was placed a tight-fitting dress uniform jacket, with even a red strap across the chest, right shoulder to left hip. It was nearly just like that of a sergeant, with the insignia and all, but the jacket itself was black, and everything else, such as the insignia, was red. In the right pocket was a pair of black leather gloves, with a soft cloth inside. Adam pulled them out, and seeing this, Dr. Svelnya came to him.

"Wait. Before you put those on, take the bandages off your hands. We can explain later... Just do it, please." Adam nodded, putting the gloves back, then easily unravelling the bandages. It was clear that they were separate from the rest of the other bandages... Why was that?

Adam shakily walked back to the Major General's office, with the little pin he'd been given placed on the left breast of his jacket, and a belt attached to the rest of his uniform. He walked into the room, and this time acted properly. He did his best to stand straight, and salute. It looked rather silly with his lack of balance. He was helped into his seat by Dr. Petrovyn, who'd stayed behind with the Major General when Adam had left.

"Adam, as you've been told, you died. Very honorably, I might add. However, through certain progress in the field of medical studies, and some luck, we were able to bring you right back to life. Doctor?"

Dr. Petrovyn stood like he was presenting a grand invention to a crowd. "You, Adam, had the potential to bring death to a man with merely a touch. But... it was never manifested inside you, and you went on like a normal man. When I heard that you died, I immediately had your body brought here to be studied. I repaired a great deal of damage, but there was nothing I could do about your voice." He pause to take a deep breath. "Anyway," he continued. "The luck the Major General spoke of was that your potential is actually what allowed me to bring you back to life. I'm really unsure why, but I know that if you were truly a regular man, you'd still be dead. I was able to artificially activate the genes that wold give you your powers right after I revived you, as you had to be alive for it to work." He looked away, but kept his eyes on Adam. "You wouldn't remember that part, thankfully. Now, as for the power you have... You can kill anything organic by touching it with your skin, and damn near instantly, too! Also, if something organic touches your skin, it will still die. What I mean is... you can't actually control this power. It's always 'on.' In addition to this, you have the ability to demolecularize anything at will, though only so much. You could, for example vaporize a handgun with no trouble, but you'd have to really think about how to take down a door."

Adam found this to be a lot to take in. He really had died? He could kill with merely a touch? Freaky. A door to his left opened, revealing another lieutenant who promptly walked into the room. "Adam," the Major General addressed. "I have some people I want you to meet now." Four unusually dressed men walked into the room. One was short, plump, and wore brown and grey. Another was tall, slim, and wore dark blues and greys. The third seemed fairly average, if not above average with his looks, and wore white and grey clothes. The final was distinctly muscular, and was wearing dark reds, oranges, and greys. Adam himself was average like the man in white, but slim like the man in blue, and wore black and grey for his clothing.

Dr. Petrovyn spoke up after the group had lined up in front of Adam. "These men are the Varian Vanguard. Flame," He pointed to the red-clothed man. "Bolt," He pointed to the white-clothed man. "Aq," He pointed to the man in the blue clothing. "Time," He pointed to the man with the brown clothes, then faced Adam. "And you shall be known as 'Death' from now on. Of course, these are merely code names. Fire is named Denver, Bolt is Jason, Aq is Moses, Time is Rupert, and," He turned to address the group. "Death's name is Adam. Like you, Aq, he's in the military." Aq nodded in acknowledgement, but didn't say a word. Adam wondered if they were mute like him, or just didn't have anything to say.

Devchkon stood up and walked to the side of the men. "You, Death, are the last member of a group of genetically superior men who have pledged their lives to us. You have the power of killing with a touch, so you've been named Death. Just as your name shows your power, so do the names of these men." He faced the group and pointed to each one in succession as he spoke. "Flame can shoot flames from his hands, Bolt can call lightning from the very sky, Aq can manipulate water in a few ways, and Time can speed up or slow down time itself." Death stood up respectfully, still wobbling a little, and saluted Aq. He responded the same way, and Death turned to the Major General, saluting him as well. The gesture was returned, and Death walked up beside Time.

"Now," Dr. Petrovyn said, clearing his throat. "If the Major General would allow it, I'd like for Death to get some rest. His body is still quite weak, and even though he's shown to be a strong individual, he does need to relax and let his body sort things out." Devchkon nodded readily, and dismissed the rest of the Vanguard, while motioning for Death to go with the doctor.

"I expect to see you in the briefing room at 19:30 hours in three days. Before then, I'd like you to go through some hand-to-hand training, just so you can brush up on your skills there." Death nodded at the Major General, and walked out with Dr. Petrovyn.

The walk took them to some standard quarters, unlike the room he'd woken up in. Camp bed, table and chair, cupboard, sink, and a window... All in the uncomfortably drab military colors of grey and green. Death smiled at the doctor, and motioned his thanks. Dr. Petrovyn nodded back, and shut the door of the room, leaving him be. What in the world...

Death sat on the bed, placing his face in his hands. What in the world would give a man the power to give another back his life? And is the power really being used the right way? Death sighed silently. I knew I was a weapon to them before... but now I'm so much more. I feel like I've gone from being a rifle, to a nuke. Can I really destroy any material? He stood up, walking to the table, and looking for an item. The only thing there was a small metal cup. It would do. He took it in his hands, covering it a good deal... then thought. Demolecularization... Destruction... How does this work...? Suddenly he realized the cup was gone. Completely gone. Every one of its molecules had come a part, and shot off every which way. Death awkwardly wobbled back to the bed, and just lay down flat, with eyes the size of saucers, staying open. What in the hell...? Moments later, he fainted.

Wow, I really like this premise. I've always liked superhero stories, and this one sounds interesting (kinda like a Soviet version of Watchmen). Not to mention Death's power (killing people by touching them), is a superpower I've never seen before in any comics.

Chapter Two:
"Death for a Doctor"

Three days. 19:30 hours exactly. Where is he? Death was sitting patiently in the briefing room, on time, as ordered by the Major General himself. Strangely, he was late. Death had arrived several minutes early due to a rather fast watch that he now intended to fix as soon as he had some free time. So he sat.

Devchkon entered through the room's left door, rushing to his seat at the desk in the room. "My apologies," he said, offering his hand. Death nodded, and shook his hand. "I trust your training session went well?" Death nodded. "Good. I've called you here today for a sort of... test. I want to some insight as to how well you can function in the Vanguard." He pulled out a drawer, and lifted out a plain, unmarked file folder. He placed it on the desk, and slid it to Death, who took it up, and opened it. Inside was a profile of a doctor. "Dr. Levran Flemings. He was an assistant to Dr. Petrovyn, but just before your revival, he defected to the Americans. He's actually in Britain right now, staying in London. Since you're dead, according to records, you can't be touched by the law." Death stared at the Major General with an air of confusion. "Hm, a little slow still? He's a traitor, and we want you to 'take care' of him." Death's face turned grim, but he acknowledged Devchkon. He turned the folder around, sliding it back to Devchkon, and pointed to to the word 'Location.' The Major General smiled confidently, and took the folder. "Right, yes. He's staying in an estate on 1298 Barrel Ave. in the southern end of London. There will be a plane ready to take you there any minute now."

The room was silent as the two waited. Death started to tap his fingers impatiently. "Aaany minute now..." Devchkon reassured him. "Well, I suppose we can go over your equipment while we wait." He opened another drawer in the desk to pull out a Makarov PM pistol, and an NR-40 combat knife. Death felt a wrinkle form on his forehead. "I know, it's not much, but what more do you really need? I was honestly considering not even bothering with the knife, but your uniform has a scabbard for it anyway." Death looked down at the belt of his outfit, and made note of the mentioned scabbard, just the size for the knife. In addition was a holster, and a pouch, presumably for ammunition clips.

Suddenly the comm on the desk started relaying a message to Devchkon. "Finally, the plane is ready. Take these," he said, pushing the weapons to Death's end of the desk, and stood up. "And we'll be on our way." Death stood up to salute, then walked out with the Major General. He took notice of Death's walk. Ah, good, you've got your legs back." Death nodded, and smiled.

Thankfully, it wasn't that long of a walk to the runway, where Death's eyes met with a strangely-shaped black plane. "This is the Lockheed U-2, an American experimental surveillance aircraft. Technically, it doesn't exists yet, but we've actually had this completed one for several months. This one's different than the actual plane, in that it has an advanced ejection system on the bottom that will allow us to drop you down near Flemings' place. Goes by the name of U-2DO, or 'Drop-Out'. You'll be given a proper suit for a low-altitude drop, and a parachute." Death sighed without a sound, and nodded. He'd done low-altitude drops before, but didn't really 'like' them.

After gearing up for the jump, Death was escorted to the plane, which he could see was being readied for him. The Major General was there, waiting. "Death, I hope you can stand a one hour flight. We've got to stay as under the radar as possible. Even with this plane's countermeasures, it's always wise to just play it safe." Death expected a long-feeling flight, but would have preferred not knowing how long he'd be stuck in the small slot. The men preparing the place for him, stood up and waved him over. Death shook hands with Devchkon, and the two saluted each other. Death turned sharply and walked to the men, ready to get in.

As expected: Uncomfortable. The slot he was in was barely large enough to fit him in when closed, and he was stuck on his stomach the entire flight. He could only wiggle, and with his hands at his sides, he now wanted to do the jump, if only to get out of there. The suit had come with a small comm link that allowed to Major General to contact him. It crackled on before Devchkon's voice came through. He could understand the words, but it was being disrupted by the altitude. "Death, I hope you -gzzrk- can hear me. I'll -tsshzt- be updating you during missions through something like this. Once you get together with -pshgrzz- the Vanguard, you'll all have linked comms that -zzzdrk- will allow you all to hear me at once. Good -ffzzk- luck." The comm went perfectly silent as the Major General signed off.

By the time Devchkon had contacted Death, the plane was just about in position. The pilot contacted him through a comm in the helmet. "Prepare for the drop. Door will open in a minute." Death's whole body tensed more than it already was, and he closed his eyes tightly. The last time he'd done a jump of any height was a few years ago. He heard the locks on the plane's bottom door release, and flashed open his eyes, watching as it angled him to the ground. A moment later he was dropped out from the bottom of the plane, flying downward. He flung his arms and legs out to slow his decent, and waited. It was night, but he still didn't want anyone to see his 'chute open.

Turned out that he needn't have worried. He landed a good mile or so from the location. He assumed it to have been an error in release timing. In reality, Dechkon planned it that way, just to give him a little extra work. Death didn't think much of it though, as a mile was nothing to him. His military training had always been useful to him.

He hiked quickly through the fairly thick forest until he broke the treeline. From there was a brick wall that was slightly damaged. Death had pulled off his flight suit soon after he landed, leaving him with his uniform. He pulled of his left glove, and touched the wall. He though for a moment, and watched as a hole formed. He stopped and looked at it... Just enough room for him to fit. He smiled and leapt through, coming into a grass-covered yard. Far to his left was a path that led to a gate, and in the front door. He sneaked along the wall, to the path, putting his glove back on while he did so. Wearing one glove felt too weird.

Once on the path, he stood up, straightened his clothes, then walked with purpose to the golden gate. Two guard posts flanked to gate, one with a lever to open it. Death continued right up to the gate, on the right side. The guard there walked up to him, while the one on the other side kept an eye on him. "What do you want 'ere?" He asked in a distinct British accent. Death frowned first at him, then the other guard, and proceeded to take off his gloves, one finger at a time. He placed them in the right pocket, staring at the gate. Both guards moved closer.

Without pause, Death grabbed the closer's collar, slapped him on the neck, and threw him into the other guard. He was dead before they even collided. Death rushed to the other guard, and slammed his open hand into his face, killing him as well. He stood up, pulled down the jacket, and walked calmly to the lever, pulling it down. The gate opened, and he walked right in. Smiling, he walked quickly down the path, but was cut-off half-way to the door. Two more guards.

One pulled a gun on him, but he lunged forward, grabbing it, and vaporizing it in a split-second. He followed through by slamming the guard's chin up, getting him out of the way. The other guard tried to come at him with a knife, but missed. Death spun around, kicking the man's back. He jumped onto him, and slapped his bare neck. Shooting up, he ran to the doors, only to find them locked. He pulled out his knife, wedged it in-between the doors, and was about to try cutting the bolt, when he remembered something. Pulling the blade out, he put it back, and placed his hand over the lock. Moments later, there was a hole where the lock used to be, allowing him to freely swing open the right door.

Doors ahead, two sets of stairs going along the wall to a second floor. Three doors there, oh, and two guards approaching. Death ran up to the guards, smacking both in the face as they tried to tackle him. The pair of doors ahead was likely a study, turning his attention to the second floor. He rushed up the left staircase, arriving at a door there. Peeking in he saw a long hallway. Rather than search each room in it, he left for the large door in the middle, between the stairs. Placing his hands on the door, he closed his eyes and thought hard. His power allowed him to remove anything keeping the door together. He ripped his hands away, letting the door fall into pieces, and opening his path forward.

A man in a blue business suit jumped in surprise. "A-are you... Are you the man they sent to kill me?!" The man was clearly terrified, but stood his ground. Death nodded. "You're the last of the Varian Project, yes?" Death looked slightly puzzled. "Um, you know. The 'Varian Vanguard'?" Death gave him a small nod. "Well, if you're here to kill me, then just do it. But," he said, holding up his hand. "At least tell me your name." Death frowned. He shook his head, and stepped up to Dr. Levran. "N-now w-wait! What harm c-could just knowing your n-name be?!" Death paused, and slowly pulled down the collar of his jacket, revealing his scar. "I... Oh. W-well, I'm terribly sorry, but-" He fell to the floor. Death let go of the doctor's hand, and walked calmly out.

* * *

"Levron's dead?" He nodded. "Good. I trust the mission was easy enough for you?" Death nodded again. "Well then, we're getting some new intel, but we'll need time to sift through it, so you go ahead and take a day off." Death saluted Devchkon, and walked out of his office with the intent of visiting Dr. Petrovyn.

Entering the doctor's office, Death looked around, but didn't see anyone. He walked in, and decided to wait at the desk. He sat down the the doctor's black leather chair. Finding it very comfortable, he leaned back, and placed his feet on the desk, with his hands, fingers interlaced, behind his head. Dr. Svelnya walked in through a side door of the office, and stopped abruptly upon seeing Death.

"Oh. Um... What did you want?" She closed the door and suddenly blushed. "Oh right.. You can't speak. I'm so sorry!" Death got out of the chair and shook his head. He was expecting to get this a lot, and didn't need an apology. He shook hands with her, then turned to a notepad on the table. Taking a pen, he quickly wrote something down, and handed the paper to Dr. Svelnya. She read it half-aloud. "Please, where is Dr. Petrovyn?" She looked at the door behind her, then slowly turned back. "He's... busy. I- He can't take visitors right now." She looked down shyly. "There's been some doubt about his usefulness now that you're around..." She spoke very softly, her voice shaking. "I'm worried." Death put his gloved hand on her shoulder, then nodded and left quietly.

What would they do to him? Just let him free? With what he knew, that was unlikely. Would they send someone to kill him? Death could understand why they'd want Levron dead, but Dr. Petrovyn was no traitor. He sighed quietly, and walked back to is quarters, feeling exhausted. He needed that day off. It would give him time to fix that watch.

Very interesting so far. I like the idea of how this is going and with the extra powers shown. Perhaps some more interaction with the other members of the Varian Vanguard and Death?

Isn't my BrokenWing an awesome writer? <3

I have to agree, this is quite interesting. :3

SheikahSage: Thanks, man. Having never seen Watchmen, I can't say I see the connection (I did look up just something basic, though), but considering Watchmen's popularity, I'd say it's a good thing.
And yes, I've never heard of someone from comics (not that I can say I pay much attention) having a power like Death's.

Ameera Mae Laramie: Thank you. I haven't done much in team interaction yet, since first off was just basically Devchkon telling Death what's happened to him, and the second chapter was testing him out.
As you'll see with the next chapter, there's a sort of 'second half' to the story. When it turns back to Death, I had already planned for some interaction, yes.

Crystal: Haha, thanks.

Originally Posted by BrokenWing

SheikahSage: Thanks, man. Having never seen Watchmen, I can't say I see the connection (I did look up just something basic, though), but considering Watchmen's popularity, I'd say it's a good thing.
And yes, I've never heard of someone from comics (not that I can say I pay much attention) having a power like Death's.

Well, in Watchmen, we see through flashbacks that the Watchmen worked for the US government against the Soviets. This story is the polar opposite, with a team of superheroes working for the Soviet government against the Americans.

Originally Posted by BrokenWing

Crystal: Haha, thanks.

You're welcome, Dave. :3

I can't wait to finish reading the rest of what you've got here! Btw, I love your CR.

(I love you way more, though! <3)

Chapter Three:
"Odd Powers"

"Infection...! Are you serious?"

"Quite."

"Deadly?"

"If you so desired." Jack Growner sat back down in the chair he'd leaped out of a second ago. He'd just been told he could infect anyone with nearly anything he wanted.

"So I can infect anyone... with anything?"

"Nearly. You can create an infection that can cause the target's body to freeze up, or even create one that could give them enhanced senses. Really, it can go as far as some level of reason would allow. For example, you can't give a man steel skin. If such a power didn't come as a natural mutation, it'd kill the man." Jack wasn't really sure what to make of his 'power.' It was interesting indeed, but having powers of nearly any kind would mean the military taking interest, which Jack didn't enjoy.

"Okay," he started, standing from his chair again, "is there any range? Do I have to touch skin, or can it go through clothing?"

"It can go through thin or loose clothing, but nothing too thick. As for range, you must be at least an few inches away, and you can only use your hands... or your feet." Jack raised an eyebrow at Dr. Hans Bellon's finishing statement.

"Tsh, feet. Right. So, do I get some over-the-top, cheesy spandex costume?" Dr. Bellon chuckled.

"Not exactly. Look." Dr. Bellon ushered Jack into a new room, where there were several uniforms. Jack didn't pay much attention to anything else there, and thus didn't notice the other man there. "Jack, this is your uniform." The doctor pointed over to the mostly teal-colored outfit in the center.

"Kinda... got a futuristic-military feel to it."

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"Eh? Oh, no." He sighed very quietly, and nodded to the doctor. "Alright, I'll try it on." Dr. Bellon smiled, nodding back. Jack turned to leave with the suit, but froze, mid-turn.

"Jack, right?" The man stepped forward, looking Jack square in the eye. He was dressed in a suit, similar in design to Jack's, but his was white... Completely white. "I'm known as Soul Caster."

"W-What? 'Soul Caster'? If ever there was ever a weird name..."

"Hey," Soul quickly retorted, "if you want to see my power first hand, I'll gladly show you!" The man went into a fully defensive posture that looked as though it could explode into fury of fists any second.

"No thanks. Just telling my will be suitable." Soul growled lightly and relaxed, stepping away. "But wait. I need to change first. If you'll excuse me."

"Yes," Dr. Bellos added. "Let the man be." Soul flipped around and kept his back to the others. Jack shook his head, and continued on his path to change clothes.

Some time later, Jack had fitted the nearly skin-tight, teal and black uniform on. It wasn't spandex, but it looked similar in places. He felt slightly embarrassed, but it was comfortable. Stepping out of the room, he saw the doctor and Soul. Both were leaning against the far wall of the room, clearly waiting for him. They looked like old buddies.

Dr. Bellon was the first to step forward. "Good, good. It fits you very well." He nodded in approval, and placed his hand firmly on Jack's shoulder. "You'll be needing a sort of 'code name.' Something related to your power, of course."

"Of course," Jack muttered sarcastically. Yep. He was a superhero now. They've all got some kind of cheesy name. "So what will it be?"

"Well," Dr. Bellon said, putting his hand to his lightly bearded chin. "You're able to produce, store, and transmit viruses. This would sort of make you a 'host' to them. Let's see, a vector is a host that carries such parasites as viruses and bacteria. How does 'Vector Host' sound to you?"

"Vector Host. For those who know what a vector is, in this context, it's a little redundant, but I could just go by Vector." Dr. Bellon smiled.

"Agreed. I suppose that will work. Vector; fitting, I'd say."

"Yeah... heh, but not as cool as mine." Soul finally piped up, coming off the wall he had been leaning against. "I can punch a man's soul right out of his body. Literally. I just activate my power, punch the guy," Soul mimicked a cheap punch, "and that's all. His soul is gone." He paused to let Vector take in the info. "And you know what's more? Once their soul is gone... They're completely under my control. No free will. No cares. No morals. But, the downside is that they can't live for more than a few days. Sucks, but they were 'dead' the second I hit them." Egotistical bastard. At least, that was Vector's opinion of him.

"I'd say 'Taskmaster' would be a more fitting name." Vector shot back.

"Why you little-! I... Oh forget it!" He turned to the doctor. "I have to work with this guy?! Oh god." Vector's eyes widened.

"Whoa, wait, what? Wait, what?! Did you say work together?" Soul turned to Vector, upset.

"Yes I said work. You've got ears! Use them, jeez!" Vector chose to completely ignore him.

"So, Dr. Bellon. Will I need any training, and when will I be sent out."

"Oh not yet. Not for a week or so. I want you to hone your powers, if you don't mind. You'll start that tomorrow." Vector nodded to the doctor, glared at Soul, and left the room. He couldn't believe he'd have to tolerate that man... That 'Soul Caster' fellow. Things simply go from bad to worse... I'd better get used to that. A sudden realization hit him. He had no clue where he was supposed to go. He was about to head back to get the doctor, but the moment he turned around, he caught Soul walking right towards him.

And shove past him. Vector was only able to half-dodge Soul as he walked right into him. Soul didn't even glance back as he pushed forward, probably upset at the recent events. Again Vector shook his head, and decided to follow Soul... At a safe distance, of course. There was a chance he'd find a place to eat.

For those interested, no this isn't dead. I'm just a terrible procrastinator, m'kay? Now I've got school as well, but I have got some inspiration for the next chapter.

In the mean time, you can listen to this. If he had one, this would be Death's theme song.