Vincent was on his computer, he had a very large cup of coffee, only half full. And it was roughly 3:30 in the morning. He had school in roughly 3 hours. But he was determined to get all the information on Norman Norton that he could find. So far he'd documented quite the interesting biography. But the Internet wasnt going to be solid enough for any kind of leads. He was sure Norton wasn't the clean debonaire buisnessman that his rep on the net lead him to believe. "This is bullshit."

He shutdown his computer and groaned, he was going to feel like shit in the morning but at least. He'd get some sleep. He'd probably have been beter off with none, but crawling into bed, he slept. Soundly and got a few hours of sleep, only to be rudely awakened by the shreiking blasts of his alarm clock. He wiped his eyes, felt horrible, that coffee was nothing but evil for him. He showered then got dressed, left for school.

School was nothing special. Most of the classes and lunch was devoted to sleeping. He'd probably regret that. But he got enough work done in class in a zombified mid-sleep state that it didnt really matter. Norman Norton was on his mind. If thugs were warning Vincent, just what was Norton running. He'd have to go get some answers, but he wasn't sure exactally where.

The bell to end final period rang and Vincent slowly dragged himself to his locker. Noticing somebody waiting for him. It was Jimmy Norton... Vincent's body ached from that attack and he instantly found himself pacing towards Jimmy. Jimmy had an sinister smile. He welcomed Vincent. "Vincent how ni-"

But Vincent cut him off with a swift right hand, a solid fist right to the nose, rocking Jimmy into the locker. Vincent continued, holding his binder like a bat and swinging as he whacked Jimmy across the nose, his face bloody, his nose broken. Vincent threw him out of the way. "Fuck off, you little shit!" He cursed at Jimmy, groaning. "You owe me a fucking binder." he said glaring at him. Jimmy looked scared, Like a five year old watching his first horror movie.

Vincent put his binder in his backpack and fled the school, feeling a sinister joy in simply putting Jimmy Norton in his place. He'd hoped that, that would be another problem he wouldnt have to deal with. He walked home and groaned, he was exhausted but he had a plan for the evening. Getting home he downed 4 quick cups of coffee. He hoped that'd keep him going. He didnt drink that much coffee but he knew that'd be more than enough.

Vincent grabbed his 'uniform' so to speak. He grabbed a map of the City... and began mapping out an area that he was going to cover in tonights run. He was going to commit to the vigillante. It was a full time thing, but he had two agendas. One, to find out what Norman Nortan was upto, and two, to make sure the city was safe. If crime was at an all time high, It was upto him to bring a stop to things.

Vincent looked, it was about dawn. The sun was going down and he smirked, he gripped his Scythe. And leapt up, scoaring into the sky. Vincent smiled, eventhough he'd even be ashamed to be mentioned with the emmotion. Flying was the only thing that made him remotely happy. He landed on the roof of a skyscraper. Looking over Milwaukee. He just thought of where to go first. Looking to the sky. Only one person existed that he longed for in his heart. Haley, but her family seemingly enshrouded in crime. No wonder they were so exclusive towards him.

He just watched and he debated what section of town to check out. He headed over to the part of town known more or less for its drug and crime problems. The part of town that the buisness owners generally avoid but only set up shop when they're at that very specific level of desperation. He flew over and landed atop a convinence store. He looked down the street. It was insane, down the road, an electronics store was being robbed. And across the street a few guys were robbing a liquor store. It almost wasnt worth it.

But the fish he was trying to lure didnt operate in the main streets, robbing stores and mugging pedestrians. The fish he was trying to fry were the back alley lurkers. The drug dealers, the informants, if you will. He looked, there was nothing here, he landed into the alley, it was dark enough that he had very little sense of detection. It was almost like intuition. Vincent melded into the darkness like chocolate, strawberry, vanilla icecream melds together.

A man was standing against the brick wall of a appartment building. Vincent recognised him... that day he walked home from school. He was one of the muggers that was attacking that woman. Vincent wanted to pull out his scythe and slice him a new one right then. But he'd have to see if he could get some information from him. Vincent walked upto him. "We need to have a talk."

The man raised an eyebrow at him. He'd not exactally seen too many 'vigilantes' around. "The fuck do you want?"

Vincent only glared. "What do you know of Norman Norton." He asked, deadpan in his voice, determination and outmost distaste.

The man looked "What of him, he's that billionare, what do you want, weirdo?"

Vincent grabbed him, threw him to the ground and drew his scythe, holding the blade against the side of his neck. "I will slice your head off faster than smearing butter on a peice of bread. Your head's butter, that wall is bread." He glared. "Now tell me, WHAT do you know of Norman Norton."

The guy was scared shitless, he almost looked like he wanted to cry. "Normon Norton... he's ... he's dirtier than a 5 dollar hooker. His buisness is just a coverup for the fact that he makes millions monthly on his drug ring...."

Vincent glared. "Do you deal for him?"

The guy shook his head, wincing as his skin rubbed against the blade of the Scythe. "N-No! Not recently, I used to but... he didnt need me. Bigger fish to f-fry as they say!"

Vincent looked. "Who can I talk to... to find out more."

The guy was feared for his life, he didnt want to die. Infact, death was the last thing he wanted to do. He just thought. "His name is ... Peter, Peter Garner. He's Norman Nortan's right hand man. Pretty much his street connection."

Peter Garner... this name rang bells in his ears. Jimmy Garner's father maybe? Either way, he would have to find him and he had an idea that it wouldnt be the easiest of tasks. But Vincent was much more than motivated to figure all this out. If he was going to start a new life as a vigilante, he'd have to keep working hard and adjusting to the work load. "Hmm... Alright." He said stepping away and the man sat up. Vincent flipped his scythe around and batted him across the jaw.

Turning around he leapt, soaring up into the air. He soared towards the finer section of town. Knowing full well what he had to do. As he was flying overhead however, he had another vision. Suddenly, he saw a large explosion, an armoured car pulling up and a large number of men proceeding to break into the bank... It was his second vision, and this time he knew he could stop it from becoming a reality. Atleast, the end result.

The bank was about a 2-3 minute flight away. He could see a few men setting up the bomb. He landed infront of them, and one of them looked up. "What the fuck? Who invited the halloween freak?" And he started walking towards vincent. Vincent took a step towards him, kneed him in the gut then kicked him in the back of the head, he was down for the count.

The second man was fumbling a radio in his hand. "G-guys, unexpected company... some freak in a clo-" He couldnt finish the message before Vincent was slicing his hand off with his scythe and the mans sentence ended first with a scream, then was quickly silenced when vincent decapitated him with his scythe. "Shut the fuck up..."

Vincent glared, looking at the door. "They want in the bank, they're going to have to go through me." He was careful, he knew he couldnt leave any evidense that it was him. The police were suspicious as is after his last scythe endevour. He could only assume the truck was blocks away, he took the dynamite... it was wired it just wasn't connected. "Hmm..." He flew upto the sky, he attached sticks of dynamite to the lights, taking one of the sticks before he finished. He then took the trigger and positioned himself on the roof.

As if on que. The truck showed up, and it auto triggered, taking out all the lights on the street with a very vibrant explosion. A yell could be heard as Vincent's keen eye watched. He felt as natural in the darkness as he felt in daylight. Because his secondary mutant power, aside of precognition was the natural ability to see in the dark. Something had had only manifested recently. So vincent had this planned out.

"What the fuck is going on? Who hit the lights... why isnt the bank on. Get the flash lights, didnt think we'd need them this early."

"Boss... What the hell?"

"I dont know.. maybe oh jesus christ!"

The head man that was leading them had stumbled upon the rather decapitated demolitions member and coughed, then looked aside to vomit. Wiping his cheeks. He could hear the murmrmer of the other man."Doug?"

A man's voice was very faint. Vincent could only assume that it was Doug, the man he simply knocked out. "... some freak, in a cloak. With a scythe."

The head man groaned. "Get the guns, this could get icky boys. Jeff, Pierre, go get the door." Soon flash lights were shining all over the place as two men proceeded to break into the bank. The alarm sounded with a shreik that even Vincent cursed from but a few gunshots later that alarm was deafened. "Comeon, lets go."Vincent watched as the lights dissapeared, obviously the men progressed into the bank.

Vincent dropped to the ground and snuck in after them, illuminated by nothing in the dark insides of the bank. This would be his stomping ground. He stalked around, looking as a few of the men were trying to crack into the safe, a couple were keeping watch, Vincent knew the watch-men would be easiest to take out, but he had a feeling he couldnt do this without drawing all their fire at once.

Vincent looked as he quickly shuffled through his pockets. "Fuck, only one match..." he lit it and lit the fuse. And looked, the two man standing watch were nodding to eachother and proceding towards him, on instinct, and a bit of over-anxousness. He threw the stick of dynamite. This freaked out the two guards who screamed look out as it landed near the men cracking the safe. With a crackling bang the dynamite stick exploded, the two guards were heading towards Vincent.

He leapt towards the, ducking under ones kick he stood up then kicked the man in the face, drawing his scythe. He hit the man in the back with the butt end, turned around and sliced the other man right in the gut, who's agonizing scream then pain fillled moans filled the room as he fell to the ground. He turned around, and slicked at the other man before he could get a shot off, landing his scythe right in his shoulder. The man screamed and fired off random shots before he fell to the ground. This caused Vincent to dive out of the way.

Vincent got up and walked over to the downed man. Grabbing his Scythe out of them man, more like forcing it out of the man he turned around, and was quick to throw himself through an adjecent window to dodge the oncoming hail of bulletfire.

Vincent winced as his body colided with and bowled down whoever's large oak desk with all its things on it. Computers, folders ect. He slowly got up and groaned, his whole body felt like pain. He grabbed his scythe then opened the door and dove as gunfire automatically assumed his position, he crouched in the darkness, they couldnt see him, the few men that were left, by his count two were missing which meant they were off somewhere else in the bank.

He kept low, the men had stopped shooting in his general direction and were now looking for him, Keeping crouched against the counter where you fill out withdrawl slips. He watched as one walked around towards him, springing up he swung with his scythe as the blade dug into the mans chest, he didnt have time to scream before Vincent was withdrawling the blade and creeping up on the second man in the large room.

This one had hastefully resumed his activity to get the safe open. And he was working vigilently, before vincent tapped him on the shoulder, and punched him in the face. Kicking him across the jaw for good measure when he was down.

Vincent looked, he noticed only one hallway that lead away from the room that they were in, so he followed it. It was quiet so he was very intent on keeping it that way as he snuck. Looking as he turned the corner, the two were coming back. He waited around the corner, hearing their footsteps, he flew back into the main room.

"Let's see if they got into that safe" The lead man said as he rounded the hall to walk into the main room, stopping at the entryway, the man with him "What the FUCK!" He yelled looking to the other man. "Go find whoever the fuck is doing this!" The man with him started walking off. The lead man drew his gun and walked back down the hallway. The scream of his buddy as he was struck by Vincent's scythe echoed throughout the bank.

The lead man slowly turned around, fear leached off his body like an unpleasent odor. He looked around the room, saw nothing... He couldnt even blink before the silhouette of the figure swept infront of him, the shine of the light off his scythe illuminating it as it swept past his arms. Slicing them like a fine butter. He couldnt even wince or make a noise. Vincent's fist hit his throat, colapsing it as if it were a frail bridge. The man fell to the ground bleeding and withering in pain. Vincent just got up and attached his scythe to its brace.

"My work here is done..."

He heard Police Syrens off in the distance, walking out the bank he soared up into the air after grabbing ahold of the scythe. Police eventually got to the scene, a good 10-15 minutes late. Typical of the police in Milwaukee, worst in the nation he was sure. He crawled back in the window that he left... throwing his outfit in the wash, being splashed in blood and all he needed to wash it. Putting it on the longest cycle, with the most soap, he prayed the bloodstains would come out.

He grabbed his polish and began polishing his scythe. Then hanging it back up onto the wall. That was a close call with the police tonight, he hoped as he got ready for bed that this would not be a re-ocurring trend.