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Mr. Oz · (09-22-2016)

Ghost Tank watched his wife as she trained. He was watching her become a more powerful entity. She wore a black sports bra and black sweats. As she worked out on this day, his rest day, he held Fuzen in his arms, chuckling to her before looking back at Alysia.

"When you do the squats, you need to do a bit of a wider stance, otherwise you're doing great, my Morticia."

She chuckled softly to him while on her fifteenth rep on her second set.

"How's our baby girl? She doing good?"

He moved to walk and be in front of her, waving Fuzen's little right hand. She then gave the softest slap to Alysia's face, thanks to her newfound love of inflicting pain. So, Alysia played along

"Owww-wuh! That hurt!"

Fuzen giggled madly and Oswald snickered

"She's going to be like me, I feel."

Alysia rolled her eyes and laughed

"Ya think?!"

She laughed while finishing up her second and last set of squats. and once standing tall, she let the weights drop with a clang! With one arm she scooped Fuzen up from Tank, then went to sit on the bench to drink from her water bottle.

"Maybe some day when you're all grown up, Fuzen, daddy will train you. Make you as strong as him."

He smirked before placing a kiss to Alysia's lips before moving to walk away, with both of his girls following soon after.

He sat in the middle of a room. Placed all around him are his weapons, save for the magnificent scythe standing tall, all upon it's own, when in reality it should fall from the weight of the blade. It stands, and he moves to kneel before it. Soon, shadows envelope him, and a moment later, all that is left, is a small light, shining down upon his scythe. There were minutes of silence, before the light opened up, and he stood there, wearing something different than the normal black wife beaters and black pants.wearing a monk like robe, but black, with the trim a blood red. He stood there, before a covered hand slid out, grabbing the right shoulder of the black silk robe with his left hand.

"Your Gods are paltry in contrast to me. Like any God, I, too, am prone to failures. Yours, however, are extraordinarily weak. Even the Ghede loa. I do falter. But I am a perfect being. Yes, you heard me right. Gods make mistakes. At least, the Gods worth worshiping. Power, agility, speed, intelligence. I am everything your Gods cannot even fathom. During our match, you will soon see. You will feel power beyond your wildest dreams."

Ghost Tank ripped off his robe, revealing black leather armor,

[Image: 7399147ee22ad8b34bd417f7213683b7_zps7fvwe55z.jpg]

"I have oft talked to the dead, Z. Do you know what I've found? Once you are dead, you speak no tales. No tongue taken, it is simply because that a spirit, has no reason to talk to the hand that took their lives. They know why I've killed them. They know why they will never continue to exist in the mortal realm.

I am Death Incarnate. You think I do not know of the loa? You think I do not know of Hel, Hades, Nergal, Xipe Totec, Yin Changsheng, Yeomra, the shinigami, Anubis, Samedi, Varuna. Azrael. Do you think I chose my title so poorly, Z? I chose my name because I have shown that I am what I say I believe I am. The truth. In between the failures since I have come back in March, my losses have been few and far between.

That is why I am dealing with your words directly. Instead of letting my emissary speak upon my behalf. I lost to Felix, I lost after a couple of wins, to Unknown Soldier and Doctor Louis D'Ville. You will not be my next loss, Z. You have chosen the wrong opponent to face. I am the Hart Champion because no one has been worthy of taking me down. Why do you think I chose an open invitation for anyone to face me?

Because I am confident.

You go ahead and talk about your death loa. You can invoke Samedi himself, if you so wish. You can give every single lumberjack in our match just my doll, and you will walk out with your first match being a loss. In your own advantage, you will lose to me. Because Samedi fears me. I am the reasoning behind the Death gods. I am the very thing you already submit to, Vodou priest. Your offerings go straight to me. I am the Master of your entire faith and in the end, you will bow to me and offer your allegiance, to me."

He crouched down, reaching his hands out and grasping his weapons upon the ground placing them in their spots upon his onyx armor.

"I am your God now, Z. Out of all of my opponents, Z, a man of Vodou, you should be able to hear the screams of my past opponents. Of those I have faced and have destroyed."

He grinned slightly, and in one swift motion he turned and grabbed his scythe. In the blink of an eye, the light shone still, but his robe was draped in a circle around the shaft of light, with blood beginning to seep out from the trim of the cloth.

He stood near the entrance of some club that is usually meant for those that fancy themselves vampires and wore masks to make themselves more mysterious. Ghost Tank followed suite by wearing his armor over a black leather trench coat, and his skull mask. He grinned, revealing fake fangs as he walked inside. The fake teeth meant to make him look more authentic. If someone were to talk to him, he'd simply show the fangs and walk away.

He walked deeper into the club, and saw that many of them were dancing. The music thumping, loud enough that the small amount of windows inside the club would vibrate, but not break. He walked into the middle of the dancers, and some tried to dance with him, but he simply stood there. A woman walked up to him, and began to seduce him, though she tried to talk to him, but he was both too damn tall, and the music too low, and with her being five feet three, all she can do is grab him by the neck and he bent down and she spoke into his ear.

"Why won't you dance, big guy?!"

"Because I don't know how!" he'd reply.

"It's not too hard! Just move your hips!"

And Ghost Tank snickered. He knew how to dance, but he wasn't in this club for that reason, oh no. He danced enough when he killed those people that had invaded his home. Besides...

Why dance with these people that fancy themselves immortal vampires? They were the next to move on to the beyond.

"My kind of dancing will end up killing people!"

He stood back up, smirking down to her, he unbuttoned the coat, sliding one arm out of the sleeve while holding the shoulder so the big reveal wouldn't be spoiled. The arm out of the sleeve, he grabbed the shoulder of the still covered arm, letting go of the shoulder of the freed arm, and then pulled hard and fast, while throwing the jacket far away from the dance floor. What was revealed was his khopesh and his kamas. He grinned as she looked at the weapons, but then tilted his head as the people saw them and instead of fearing him, they went and touched the weapons.

'The fuck is wrong with these people?' He thought.

He shook his head then laughed heartily, at how grouped close they all are. He grabbed the handle of the khopesh, sliding it from its placement on his back. With one swing, five people would find their heads gone. The people started to scream, as they now realized their mortality, and the DJ was still playing music, head down as she made sure the machine was working properly, as well as looking at her social media on her smart phone, as well as her texts, to see if she was going to be hired for future gigs as people died in front of her. As the current song finished, she put down a new track.

The song somewhat fit the movements Ghost Tank made as he rushed about the club and continued to make these fauxpires realize that they were one hundred percent mortal and that they were going to die. Some of the lankier, but slightly muscled men in the club tried to fight him off. He placed his khopesh on his back, into place, and pulled out his kamas. He'd move about dodging their punches, some trying to kick him, but the man showed his agility by dodging with ease, before dropping low and moving quick enough to sweep their legs, bringing them up into the air, then Oswald leaped forward, and slammed knees into their jaws, landing on top of their throats, crushing their windpipes with his weight. He pushed off their bodies and onto his feet, only make sure they died as he jumped up and landed hard on their throats, crushing their necks, killing them instantly. He then saw the small woman and rushed up to her, slamming his fists into her gut and then using the force to send her up into the air as if she were nothing more than a rag doll, and he began to swing his kamas tearing her clothes and flesh apart with the blades.

By the time she landed, her organs had slipped out of her body, a breast torn off, and her jaw had been forced off on side, making it hang by the other side. By the time everything was done, the song was just finishing up, and he went up to the DJ. When he came up to her, she finally was out of her trance and saw the carnage of dead bodies and blood everywhere, and Ghost Tank stood there, flashing the fake fangs as she looked to his blood covered body.

"My dear. You are going to be the only one I leave alone. Usually I take everyone's life. But you are not yet upon my list. However, I am leaving my mark upon you. Whenever you look upon it, you will remember that Death spared your life this night."

With that, he took a kama, and slashed deep enough to cut through her clothing, and left a deep enough gash that she would survive, but she would forever be scarred from between her breasts, and long enough down her midsection that the mark would be a crescent shape. She'd call 911, as he left, putting his kamas away, and then walked over to his coat, now drenched in blood. He hung it over his left arm and walked out of the club, laughing loudly.

"Z, it's your God speaking, again. Are you going to be ready for me, Z? Do you think you and the loa can handle me? Do you think you even stand a sliver of a chance against me?

I will show you the power of a true God of Death.

I will make you scream.

Do you remember what I said, Z? I know you do. And soon enough, you should be able to hear yours.

Can you hear the screams yet, Z? Can you?

CanYouHearTheScreams?

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