Chapter Two - Incubating Dreams
DISCLAIMER - No owny Thrax. Owny Mantra, Cori and Sneeze Brothers.
Things - Cori is a small-pox virus, but she has given up the whole virus thing to be with her friend, Mantra. Mantra is a black death virus, who has lost her ability to infect. Hope that made sense.
Everything was black.
But suddenly, it was as if someone had turned on a light.
A very... Bright light.
His life was flashing right infront of him. It was running from the beginning to what he thought was the end... His fight with Jones, the eye-lash... The alcohol 'bath'.
'So this is it,' he thought. Until he was shoved into something soft and... Mushy.
Thrax struggled to open his eyes, but it was almost like there were weights attatched to them. They just wouldn't open.
Then a wave of fresh exhaustion washed over him, and he lost all conciousness that he had regained. Again.
It was dark. Real dark. It also smelled musty.
The red death virus found himself in a dark, abandoned house. Somehow, it looked... Familiar.
Then it clicked.
This house had been the house one of his victims had lived in before their untimely demise. There was another thing he noticed. He was, seemingly, as tall as a human.
Behind him, a floor-board creaked. He whipped around, claw glowing brightly, but saw... Nothing. Nothing but dust. Dust and dark.
By now, Thrax wanted to say something. He tried, but found he couldn't even scream in frustration. 'What's goin' on here?!'
An eerie, haunting laugh echoed throughout the house. The virus stared stonily around, recognizing it.
There was absolutely no mistaking it.
That laugh belonged to his third victim, Larry Ganoo - or 'Nag' as people called him while he was alive. He was a grumpy old man, who loved to nag at people. A lot.
Despite his age, he had proved a challenge to take down. Or maybe it was because Thrax was a tad inexperienced at the time.
'There you are, you stupid germ!' The message wasn't spoken, but rather... Thought. Thrax stepped back when the old spectre appeared infront of him.
Since Nag could send thoughts to him, Thrax hoped he could send thoughts back. 'I'm a virus, Nag, and i'm not the one who died, am I?'
The old spectre growled grumpily. 'Bah! What does that matter, now!?' He looked around, ready to tare what little hair he had, out. Thrax smirked coldly, jumping suddenly at the spectre and slashing him across the chest.
His claw passed right through Nag.
The momentum he created trying to kill the old man made him stagger right on through the rest of him.
Nag guffawed loudly at the viruses' attempt at his life. 'I'm already dead, y'fool!' To demonstrate such, he went to hug Thrax, and passed right through him again. Thankfully. But still, it made the virus step away.
Thrax would have growled - if he could make any sound at all. 'You're lucky you're already dead or you'd be very hot right now...'
'Ha!' The old man grinned cheekily, placing his hands on his hips. 'My time is up, now, anyway.' With that, he simply poofed out of existance.
And so did Thrax.
DISCLAIMER - No owny Thrax. Owny Mantra, Cori and Sneeze Brothers.
Things - Cori is a small-pox virus, but she has given up the whole virus thing to be with her friend, Mantra. Mantra is a black death virus, who has lost her ability to infect. Hope that made sense.
Everything was black.
But suddenly, it was as if someone had turned on a light.
A very... Bright light.
His life was flashing right infront of him. It was running from the beginning to what he thought was the end... His fight with Jones, the eye-lash... The alcohol 'bath'.
'So this is it,' he thought. Until he was shoved into something soft and... Mushy.
Thrax struggled to open his eyes, but it was almost like there were weights attatched to them. They just wouldn't open.
Then a wave of fresh exhaustion washed over him, and he lost all conciousness that he had regained. Again.
It was dark. Real dark. It also smelled musty.
The red death virus found himself in a dark, abandoned house. Somehow, it looked... Familiar.
Then it clicked.
This house had been the house one of his victims had lived in before their untimely demise. There was another thing he noticed. He was, seemingly, as tall as a human.
Behind him, a floor-board creaked. He whipped around, claw glowing brightly, but saw... Nothing. Nothing but dust. Dust and dark.
By now, Thrax wanted to say something. He tried, but found he couldn't even scream in frustration. 'What's goin' on here?!'
An eerie, haunting laugh echoed throughout the house. The virus stared stonily around, recognizing it.
There was absolutely no mistaking it.
That laugh belonged to his third victim, Larry Ganoo - or 'Nag' as people called him while he was alive. He was a grumpy old man, who loved to nag at people. A lot.
Despite his age, he had proved a challenge to take down. Or maybe it was because Thrax was a tad inexperienced at the time.
'There you are, you stupid germ!' The message wasn't spoken, but rather... Thought. Thrax stepped back when the old spectre appeared infront of him.
Since Nag could send thoughts to him, Thrax hoped he could send thoughts back. 'I'm a virus, Nag, and i'm not the one who died, am I?'
The old spectre growled grumpily. 'Bah! What does that matter, now!?' He looked around, ready to tare what little hair he had, out. Thrax smirked coldly, jumping suddenly at the spectre and slashing him across the chest.
His claw passed right through Nag.
The momentum he created trying to kill the old man made him stagger right on through the rest of him.
Nag guffawed loudly at the viruses' attempt at his life. 'I'm already dead, y'fool!' To demonstrate such, he went to hug Thrax, and passed right through him again. Thankfully. But still, it made the virus step away.
Thrax would have growled - if he could make any sound at all. 'You're lucky you're already dead or you'd be very hot right now...'
'Ha!' The old man grinned cheekily, placing his hands on his hips. 'My time is up, now, anyway.' With that, he simply poofed out of existance.
And so did Thrax.