It had been 3 months now. Vincent's love, the only person that made him feel really all that good about himself was gone. And now his mother, shot to death in her own house by a man that the police still havent found. Vincent now virtually had nobody. He was lost on so many fronts. He still saw his psychiatrist wth something to say. He felt like the man was there for him, even though he was doing it just because Vincent was paying him.

He moved into the basement of a friends house, one of the few friends he had left. His friend's mother felt really bad for Vince so atleast that worked out. He also got a job, Working at the video store, not the greatest pay but It was money, he had to pay rent somehow. Vincent had worked hard and was getting into the end of school. He'd more than caught up on his classes. Trig however was like a lost cause, he was trying but barely passing, getting a 67, a low C. But it was okay for vincent. That class was like trying to learn spanish again, or french. He hated french.

Jimmy Garner had no longer been a thorn in Vincent's side either, since the day that he broke Jimmys face. Even Jimmys friends didnt fuck with Vincent, it was a luxury that he enjoyed. However one person that just wouldnt leave him be was Haley's brother, Jimmy. Get rid of one Jimmy, another arises. Jimmy had threatened Vincent's life countless times. And Vincent simply just walked on. He wasnt scared of Jimmy, he wasnt even scared of death. He had no fear anymore.

Vincent disliked alot of things in what he called his 'rebirth' in the wake of all this loss he really had nothing. He had lost many of the few friends that he did have. But he never once complained. He worked his ass off and went day to day doing what he could. It was friday and he was really looking forward to the weekend. However one person was really going to prevent him from enjoying his day. Jimmy Norton.

"Hey Vincent... Where you going?"

Turning around, Vincent wanted very little to do with Jimmy, knowing full well he could kick the little puke's ass if he very well had to. But Vincent would only listen for now. "Can I help you, Jimmy. Why dont you just go off and play with the gnome's like normal children your age?"

Jimmy just glared at Vincent. "Think you can talk down to me because you're older than me. Im not scared of you. I hate you!"

Vincent shrugged and walked off. "Feelings mutual." He said as he walked off. Vincent felt that walking away was the best idea for now. The rest of the day at school went by relatively freely. He breezed through all his classes uninterupted, even got some work done. Vincent really never worked as hard in class anymore. He still had solid grades but he just got bye.

Walking home Vincent really didnt have too much else to do so he took the long way through town. He enjoyed the more 'old england' style of the part of town he walked through to get home. He of course enjoyed walking period. But it was peaceful and it was elegant. It was the kind of place he'd envision himself living in one day.

But today would be much different, as he'd been curious of the small group of people that had been following him. They'd followed him for about a good 20-30 minutes now, he'd even taken a couple off routs just to see. They seemed to be very lax and social within the group but Vincent wasnt naive. He had a feeling they were following him.

Vincent was curious. But he didnt want to seem rude so he simply slowed down, and debating waiting for them. He didnt have to because already one was calling out to him. Not too surprised that it was Jimmy Garner, and a group of his friends. Vincent just groaned. He started walking away but the group quickly caught upto him.

"Hey Vincent, how's it going?" Jimmy smiled and waved, being falsely friendly.

Vincent shrugged. "Nice day, good I suppose. How can I help you And your, friends?"

Jimmy smiled evily and shrugged. "Dont know.. maybe." He didnt finish his sentence before he punched Vincent right in the face. Vincent fell to the ground, dropping his books and falling to a crouched position. It wasnt long before all the boys were kicking at Vincent and punching him. It was only 3 or 4 minutes but they felt like hours before somebody drove by, stopped and chased them away from Vincent. The man was a large man, dressed like he was in the construction buisness.

"You okay kid?"

Vincent only noded, his nose was broken and bleeding. He was handed a roll of paper towel for his wound. He was also hurting. He felt like he broke a rib or something. The man drove Vincent home and during that drive, it was like Vincent's visions were changed. He'd noticed so many things. A man pick pocketed another in the open, who did that! And in an alleyway, a few men were beating a woman, and stealing her purse. Vincent felt so overtly appauled that he almost felt the need to do something about it.

"Thanks..."

He said weakly as he walked into his friends house. His friend Mark who he moved in with was there as Vincent walked in. "Jesus Vincent, you okay?"

Vincent shook his head and walked down to the basement, that was the part of the house he lived in. Sitting down on his couch he flipped on the TV, the news was on. A woman was the anchor, fairly attractive. "Mindy Brendtart" was her name. She was doing an report on the insane increase in crime that the city was going through as of late. They had some sort of professor on who was talking about the way people think and how it related to the increase in crime.

Vincent shook his head, he didnt like it one bit. He knew he could do something about it. That woman being attacked. Nobody even bothered to help her. That scene just played in his mind. He could do something. Be like, Spider-Man or somethng! But Spider-Man had a costume.

"Hmm..."

He looked through his clothes, he didnt have any kind of costume. Nothing he could strap together, and he didnt want to be "Second hand clothes man" so he figured. Why didnt he make something. He wasnt bad with a sewing machine. He looked as he walked back up stairs to Mark. "You got a sewing machine?" He asked simply.

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Umm.. sure dude, in the closet with the vaccum cleaner, why?"

Vincent blinked. "I've got a tear in some clothes, just want to fix them before they become troublesome. You know..."

Mike shrugged. "Ah, well go hard."

Vincent nodded and walked over to the closet, grabbing the sewing machine he hauled it down to the basement. The thing was ancient, he wasn't even sure if it would /work/ or not. He continued as he set it down, he grabbed a note pad and hmmed to himself. "And I need an image before I even start."

He started sketching a few things down. Most were dark drawings, grim-reaper ish, that was the consistancy between the various different drawings. Commenting to himself he thought. "Hmm, I'll need a cloak."

The next day Vincent went to the fantasy shop in the mall, the same shop that he bought his Scythe at. They had cloaks there, he looked as he found one. It was perfect, pitch black. The cloak dangled well to his feet, and draped fully around his body. The hood of the cloak, the front draped down past his face, covering it almost like a mask. Yet he could still see perfectly out of it. It was perfect. "How much for this cloak?" he asked putting it back on the hanger and looking to her.

"220" the man at the desk replied. Vincent sighed, that'd eat up most of his paycheck and he had to get groceries. He didnt care, his dream to uphold justice held presidence. "Okay." Vincent handed the man his debit card and payed for the cloak. Which the man put into a box, folding up the cloak. Vincent took the cloak and walked back home.

Once he got home he layed the cloak down and started cutting up in various placs near the bottom of the cloak, giving it a shredded appearance. Pretty much laying waste to the 220 dollar cloak, but Vincent didnt care, he had a vision. He looked through his clothes, a pair of dark black pants he found would be perfect, and a black shirt he had was awesome, the sleves hung low kind of a gothic type shirt. He had some black dirt biking gloves that would have to do until he could get some good gloves. Trying it all on, he looked in the mirror.

"I somehow have the feeling I wont be striking fear into anybody. Not without a weapon."

He thought for a bit, then it hit him, looking to the wall he pulled his scythe off the wall and held it. Looking he smiled. "Wow, despite its size I can hide it in my cloak." he flipped it so the blade was facing down and away, and it was as if they wouldnt even notice.

"Perfect."

He opened the basement window and crawled out of it, dealing with the scythe first, then pulling himself up and out. Quickly exiting to the back alleyway. He noticed something peculiar. His Scythe had green vein like glowing patterns on it. It was lighter, and it only lit up when he was holding it. "Interesting." He found this very perplexing the veins slowly crept over his hands he could feel it. There was something about this scythe.

Vincent felt light, he didnt quite get it. he hopped and kind of hovered... He landed on mental whim and blinked. This time he right leapt and soared up into the air. The surge of adrenaline as he was starting to fly. He blinked as he soared over the town. Landing on a rooftop he caught his breath. "I can fly..."

Catching his breath as, regardless of the powers that the scythe had granted him. It took some kind of energy to fly and it exhausted him. He crouched on the roof and hopped down into the alleyway. He blended into the alleyway. Like a solider in a forest. He crept silently as silent as night as he turned, looking. Two men were crowding another, pushing him into the wall.

Vincent glared. Scum these people were. He crept upto them in the dark, maybe being lightly illuminated by the neon sign above one of the doors. But when he kicked a beer can the two men looked up and at him. One let go of the man he was holding, who fell to the ground.

"Well what do we got here? The grim reaper?" The man elbowed his friend and they both began to chuckle.

Vincent just remained silent, looking to the two of them, feeling the outmost disgust. He tightened his grip on his scythe. With two steps he'd come upto the men, his movements were very fluent, graceful almost like a balet. He jabbed the man in the gut with the scythe, twisted. Cut the man beside him with the scythe, right across the abdomen, then kicked him in the head, swinging around he dug his scythe into the other man's back. Yanking it out they both fell to the ground. Vincent kicked the man over and looked at him. His dark eyes peering into the thugs. "I am.. Your worst nightmare... "

He said walking over to the man who was huddled by the wall, attaching his scythe to a snap he put on his waist, so it hung in his cloak, the blade hanging at the ground and away from him. He helped him up. The man just stuttered.. "t-th-thank you!" he said before running off. The thug looked at him. "You'll regret this... punk. You'll wish you never got into Norman Norton's buisness!" He said before he died. Vincent just spat at him. "Preach to the choire jackass..." And leapt up onto the roof.

"Norman Norton... Haley's father?" He blinked, shaking his head. The possibility was there but it didnt make any sense. But it lurked in the back of his mind... "No way..." He leapt up and flew home... his first encounter wih any kind of crime had left him stressed. He needed to think this through. Was Norman Norton some sort of crime kingpin?