Thanx to Raya Halliwell and Powerof1P3PadfootsGrl for reviewing this story so far. I gotta admit I don't too much like where I'm taking it, so please e-mail me suggestions. I've opened up my e-mail address to the world!

"I don't make deals with evil," Thanos, the Angel of Death, said to Mastiphal. "I am not evil. I am not good. I just am."

"This is not a deal," Mastiphal replied calmly. "This is something that we want you to do."

"And it is something that I do not wish to do," Thanos said. "I cannot stop my work just to help you. Considering that you are the Council, I especially do not wish to help anyone who wants to spread evil."

"By helping us," Tenebrion said, "you will increase the proportion of death in the world. Is that not what you want, death?"

"It is not my privilege to bring death to people," Thanos said. "Death is not meant as a punishment. It is a part of life, and therefore must be brought about naturally, or as naturally as possible."

"So guns, knives, drugs, and other mortal things are natural now?" Ardad asked.

"You miss the point," Thanos said, turning away from the Council. "Now I must leave. There are souls waiting to be delivered."

"They will wait," Andras said.

He mumbled a spell and Thanos was surrounded by a bright red light from which he could not escape. He waved his arm and Thanos was mysteriously raised into the air, hovering above the pentagram-shaped table, helpless and unable to do anything.

"What magic is this?" Thanos asked furiously. "You cannot keep me here! Without me, souls will not be able to move on. People will not be able to die! Release me at once!"

"Mastiphal," Anamalech said, "if people are not able to die, how can our plan succeed?"

"They may not be able to die," Mastiphal said, "but once Thanos is released, they will. Let us commence with our plan, with or without Thanos' help..."

James, Matthew, and Wesley sat in James' room in a circle. James had forced them inside with his telekinetic powers. After being yelled at by Wesley about how the double standard that had come into existence (James could use his powers openly, but Wesley couldn't), he convinced them to join him in his effort to contact the dead. In the middle of the three brothers was a circle of candles, all lit. In the midst of the candles was a large bowl that contained the necessary ingredients for the spell James would say. In the bowl were powdered sage, a sprig of rosemary, and a handful of dirt. Before James read the spell, he added the final three ingredients: a drop of blood from each of the three brothers.

"Oh no!" Wesley said, standing up. "I'm not donating any blood!"

"If you wanna do this," James said, "you have to cut your finger. It's just a prick."

"And so are you," Wesley shot back. "I don't like death, and you're making me just sit here and talk to it! If you were a real brother, you'd respect my wishes."

"C'mon," Matthew said, softly but forcefully. "Wesley, sit down. Jimmy, shut up and keep going."

"But he..." Wesley started before being cut off.

Matthew grabbed Wesley's hand and poked his finger with his pocketknife. He squeezed Wesley's finger until a drop of blood fell into the bowl. Wesley did not say a word; he just sat there, upset at being outvoted. Matthew and James each cut their fingers and let a drop of their blood fall into the bowl. The moment all three brothers' blood had mixed with the other ingredients, a plume of smoke rose into the air. James read the spell:

Blood to blood, we call to thee.
Embrace us with your presence.
Blood to blood, we summon thee.
Send your spirit from the heavens.

A white light came from nowhere and began to fill the room. Meanwhile, the contents of the bowl disappeared in a cloud of smoke, which began to rise into the air and take the shape of a person. The light faded, once again leaving only the candles to illuminate the room. The smoke dissipated to reveal a person, a man. He looked to be in his thirties. He had long brown hair, tied back in a ponytail, and wore some very strange looking clothes. He looked down at the three brothers and laughed heartily.

"At last!" he said. "It has happened!"

"What has happened?" James asked. "And who the hell are you?"

"Not hell," the spirit corrected, "but heaven. I do not recall using the word 'hell' in my spell!"

"Your spell?" Matthew asked. "You wrote that spell?"

"Yes," the spirit said. "I am William White, your great-great-great...well it does not matter. I was born on October 29th, 1482."

"Hey!" Wesley exclaimed excitedly. "We have the same birthday! Well, mine's not 1482. It's more like 1983."

"You are the Complete, am I right?" William asked.

"Yes," James said, "but I think something's wrong. No offense or anything, but I didn't have you in mind when I said that spell. I was thinking of my..."

"Birth parents?" William asked. "I know. They are nice people. They are still adjusting to...well, being dead. The first thing you must learn as witches is that everything happens for a reason, just like there is a reason that I am here."

"Why?" Wesley asked.

Why, indeed? Wesley always seems to be asking all the good questions! Y'all will all find out soon enough!