Chapter Seven : Necrid the Realter

Perhaps I should elaborate.

Necrid, after being 'let go' by Namco, was very depressed and lonely. He was out of a job. He made no more money. He had no home (since Namco so graciously provided its cast members with houses; what nice people) to go back to. His friends all abandoned him. (Of course, now was a good time to wonder if he really had any friends or not.)

But I digress.

For Necrid now had no calling. It was his JOB to be the creepy guy who copied everybody's moves with a strange glowing ball of energy. It was his CALLING to be the orange guy with the mask (Necrid, who is full of Vitamin C!). It was his LIVING to beat up a small girl with braids who so blatantly deceived her opponents into thinking that she was a small, defensless child by being so adorable.

But now... now he had nothing! Oh, the lament of Necrid!

However! as he was walking so depressedly down the cold, damp street that miserably rainy day, he found a boy selling newspapers, waving them in people's faces.

"Come on, it's only three cents!" he said to a man who gave him a particularly nasty glare. As the man walked away, he muttered, "Fine, jerkwad... see if that doesn't stop the Mafia from taggin' yer as--"

"Excuse me, kind young gentleman," said Necrid, but of course it came out as a series of grunts and growls. "May I purchase a periodical from you...?"

The boy stared up at him. "...HOLY CRAP," he said in wonderment. "Who are you?"

"Why, my name is Necrid," said Necrid.

"Umm... what? Okay, whatever... three cents for a paper," said the boy, adjusting to the situation rather... well, Necrid thought. The giant orange handed over three pennies and the boy gave him a paper. "Th-thanks. Err... yeah."

"Indeed," replied Necrid, continuing down the sidewalk. He opened the paper as he sat on the curb. "Oh, if only I had other talents than being a very hideously giant orange..." he lamented. "There must be something I'm good at--! I mean, I can scare people into doing practically ANYTHING, but... hey..."

He'd spotted a help-wanted ad that read, Skamyoo Realty, LTD, is looking for strapping young gentleman to be newest realter. Must be persuasive. For job interview call 555-7890.

Well, now, he thought. I'll probably need a resúmé of some sort... He picked up a discarded, yet dry, piece of paper on the side of the road. Name: Necrid... Experience? ...Has been in the Soul series of fighting games. Knows how to get people to do things without much effort. Good at persuasion. He continued writing everything down until the entire page was filled up. "Horjah! I shall be the only Soul Calibur II character IN EXISTANCE to have had a job outside of Namco!"

Apparently, he didn't know about Ivy's job at the flower shop, Xianghua's brief job at a MacDonald's, and Nightmare's current job, which was being a clerk at a Bargain Wall.

But that is irrelevant.

What is relevant is that he got the job, made more money than he ever did working for Namco, and eventually learned sign language and purchased a cabana in the Bahamas. Life was good for Necrid now. He even had a roommate: Lizardman! Not evil Lizardman from Soul Calibur III, but GOOD Aeon Calcos Lizardman from Soul Calibur.

Unfortunately, this could not last. Necrid, as stated in a previous chapter, died in a realty accident.

What could have possibly gone wrong, you ask?

Well... I'll let you see.

Necrid was standing outside of a house that had a picket sign in the front lawn that said "For Sale" in bold, white letters on a red backdrop, with the Skamyoo Realty, LTD, logo (which was, for some odd reason, a picture of the Sun with sunglasses on) in the far left corner.

A girl dressed entirely in green with wild blue-green hair came up to him. "Hey!" she said, "Is this house for sale?"

He wrote something down on a notepad he carried with him wherever he went, just in case people didn't know sign language. "Yes," said the paper.

"Well, see, my boss an' his... err... 'family' needs a new place of, erm... 'residence,'" she said nervously, looking over her shoulder every few seconds, as if looking for persuers. "And, uhh, this house looks pretty convenient and inconspicuous, don't you think? Yeah, pretty innocent house, if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you," replied the paper. Oh, it's not talking. It's what's written down. "But, yes. Very innocent. Except it was owned by a mass-murderer recently. He was taken to jail just the other day..."

The girl got a crazy glint in her purple eyes. "Mass-murderer, you say...?" She also smiled, which, in turn, made her eyes widen about a centimeter. "Well, then... We'll just... TAKE IT!" she screeched, slicing Necrid in two with her ring blade.

"HOLY CRAP!" said a random passer-by, but he just continued walking down the street.

Incidentally, that was exactly what Necrid was thinking the moment the blade cut into his orange, scaly flesh.

His funeral was held a week later, and Aeon Calcos Lizardman attended it, tears filling his large, yellow eyes; he was wearing a flowery veil over his face.

Tira, Nightmare, Ivy, and Astaroth moved into the house on that same day, and held a cocktail party at their success. However, before they could become horribly drunk, Hwang (for some reason) crashed through the door with an elite S.W.A.T. team. They were taken to jail and were found guilty of Necrid's death. (Well, Tira was. The rest were bailed out by Cervantes, because Ivy used her only phone call wisely.)

Everybody else went on with their lives, blissfully unaware at the murder of a previous SC character. Oh well. It's not really like anybody liked Necrid anyway. (A/N: If you actually do, I'm really sorry.)