CHAPTER 8: MEANING OF LIFE, PART 4
With each passing year providing the world with new technology, one of the first industries to see the largest boost in improvement is entertainment. Ranging from the small and simple productions of short internet videos and television shows to high-class blockbusters for the big screen, the world is nowhere near short on its supply of entertainment, nor the flow of new artistic creations for the world to enjoy.
Entertainment is usually not particularly the largest priority for the minds of the Fentons, for that status belongs solely to science and the discoveries it brings to the world. Nonetheless, the Fentons are still human beings above all, and they still crave the occasional need to rest and recover their minds with time to relax.
Such is the opportunity that Jazz Fenton takes now to bond with her sister-in-law, Sam Manson Fenton, bringing her to Fenton City's entertainment room. With an unlimited amount of capital at their disposal, the Fenton's entertainment room was built with various upgrades and speaker systems, ensuring the best visual and auditory stimulation quality.
For all the entertainment available for them to consume, they flipped through several channels on TV, trying to find a decent channel to settle on.
"Even after a full 3 years the Catholic Church was dismantled in America, Italy still recognizes Vatican City as a sovereign nation and refuses to extradite religious leader Jorge Bergoglio, known by his title of Pope Francis, despite the RICO case on him and his organization in systematized child molestation and sex trafficking-" One news channel said.
"In other news, the socially conservative group League for Decency in Sex makes yet another appeal in their court battle against sex education in schools, continuing their battle against their self-proclaimed war on teenage sex, starting with the new program put out by the Department of Education which includes safety awareness of risky behaviors like anal sex and BDSM-" Another news channel said.
"Racial purity group White Makes Right has founded their own commune in Utah today, establishing a strict set of laws inside the compound that range from dressing conservatively to completely banning all forms of recreation. A legal case has been opened over the legitimacy of the commune, and talks have been made with state officials to see the area be given a tax-free status-" A different news channel said.
"Millions have been affected by male genital mutilation, left with sexual dysfunction, unsatisfied sex lives and broken relationships. Call ReSkin today for a free consultation, where we can regenerate a completely new foreskin for you, as if your genitals were completely natural as they were when you were born, restoring full sensation and enjoyment to your sex life once again-" A commercial said.
"A police raid has left over 130 members of the pedophile advocacy group Love for All Ages incarcerated, including the former Florida Senator Pratt 'Cemetery' Gates, who has been part of an ongoing investigation accusing the former senator of sex trafficking of a minor-" A news channel said.
"Interested in seeing the world? Bringing education and reason back to the masses? Teaching critical thinking and free thinking to the next generation? Join L.A.M., the League of Atheist Missionaries, where you can traverse the globe and give others the skills needed to think for themselves and make decisions that help the rest of the world. Go on the L.A.M, where we Make Rational Go International-" Another commercial said.
"Birth rates continue to plummet to record lows each passing year, making economists and family traditionalists alike grow nervous over the dwindling population growth in the country. Despite millions of dollars being poured into ad campaigns and financial assistance meant to incentivize conception and family-building, it seems to have had no effect on modern generations, causing little to no increase in fertility rates in the U.S.-" Another news channel said.
"When a person passes away, they don't just leave behind their bodies. They leave behind a legacy when they're gone. They make decisions throughout their lives that impact the rest of people and society as a whole. President Tucker Foley has left a legacy that has changed the lives of many people and their worlds for the worst. Wages are still at an all-time low, people die prematurely every day because they don't have access to basic healthcare, and his all-out war against the undead has left many people who are still American citizens left in the dirt. Ellis Robertson will change this unfair discrimination against our afterliving citizens, give the support and means to our living citizens, and bring justice to all American regardless of mortal status. I'm Ellis Robertson, and I approve this mes-" A different commercial said.
Unable to find anything of interest to watch, mainly sifting through news channels and commercials, the two continued to sit in boredom, lamenting over the lack of activity to hold their respective interests. Nonetheless, the various news reports gave the sisters-in-law a collective distaste for current affairs after hearing of events going on in the world, finding conversation to make up for their boredom.
"You know something? The future sucks. You used to see all kinds of cool science-y stuff that were supposedly gonna come out in a few years, flying cars, aliens, time travel, but no. We can't have nice things. Even when we find out that ghosts are real and we finally know what the afterlife looks like, all we still have are the same problems, and the same assholes making them." Sam said.
"Yep. After getting into science, though, you really start to see how half that stuff is harder than it sounds. Elon's bankruptcy was the clearest sign to the world that half that wasn't happening yet. Not that he came close to us, anyway." Jazz said.
"Yeah, half the richie riches of yesteryear really were idiots, weren't they? Hey, speaking of rich idiots, any sign when he'll be back on that mission you sent him on yet? Not that I'm not enjoying this moment of sisterly bonding, of course."
"He probably got turned around some point on the way back, he'll be back soon enough. Probably just enjoying his time out in the Ghost Zone, it's been a long time since he was out there."
"Of course he's out enjoying himself. Why should he care about home where he's got a wife waiting for him back there when he could be out having as much fun as he wants? Typical guy."
"Uh... He's just on a quick mission. He should be back soon. Yeah, it's been a while since he's done something like this, but he's just trying to make sure the planet's not in danger. That's kind of his whole job, y'know?"
"Oh, yeah, of course it's his whole job. Sucking up all the glory while the rest of us sit around with our hands up our asses. What kind of crap is that? I'm a person too, damn it! I need something to do!"
Sam then began to feel some very unpleasant cramps in her stomach, followed by very bizzare hunger cravings seemingly out of nowhere.
"Oh, god, I'm so hungry. I need some chocolate. Better yet, some chocolate ice cream and a jar of pickles. And eggs with peppers drowned in cheese. Make sure it's all vegan, please." Sam said.
"Whoa, Sam, what's with the sudden case of the munchies? And how are you hungry while your stomach hurts? And what's with all the mood swings? And why are you-" Jazz began to ask.
As Jazz began to continue her rant, she suddenly found her own question answered, realizing the common symptom of what corresponded with the specific list of eccentricities she listed. Upon the realization, Jazz looked to Sam with a huge smile, leaving Sam herself confused to her sudden change in attitude.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Sam asked.
"I just realized. You're pregnant, aren't you?" Jazz asked.
Not expecting Jazz to figure out her secret so fast, Sam became completely flustered, unprepared on how to react to the situation.
"Wha- What?! Pregnant?! Me?! Why the hell would you think that?!" Sam asked.
"Sam. Sammy. Girl, stop lying. You've got a bun in the oven, don't you?" Jazz asked.
Accepting that Jazz knew the truth and that there was no way to keep her secret secure from her any longer, Sam gave a deep breath, uneasily admitting the truth.
"Okay, yes. I'm pregnant. Are you happy?" Sam asked.
"Happy? Not at all. I'M ECSTATIC!" Jazz yelled.
Jazz immediately grabbed Sam in a hug and lifted her in the air in the hug, forgetting about Sam's well-being in her moment of excitement. Sam, struggling to breathe from Jazz's iron-grip hug, just barely managed to struggle out the sufficient words to signify her troubles.
"Jazz... Can't breathe... Please let go now..." Sam said.
Jazz let go of Sam as requested, allowing her to catch her breath again after several long deep inhales.
"Whoops! Sorry, got a little ahead of myself. I'm just really excited to be an aunt!" Jazz said.
"Yeah, thanks for letting me breathe long enough to make sure you get that far." Sam said.
"So, when did you first find out? Is it a boy or a girl? How did it happen- Wait, never mind that last question, I don't want to know that part- Do mom and dad know? Are they planning-"
Sam placed her hand over Jazz's mouth, putting a temporary end to her continuous flow of questions.
"I found out a few days ago, I don't know if it's a boy or girl yet, and mom and dad don't know, and I'd like to keep it that way for at least a little while." Sam said.
"Buh whuh fur? They cnn hnndul the troof." Jazz said.
Sam removed her hand from Jazz's mouth, allowing her to speak normally again.
"What did you say?" Sam asked.
"I said, 'But what for? They can handle the truth.'" Jazz said.
"Jazz, you can't handle the truth. You nearly choked me to death 3 seconds ago. Jack and Maddie would go apeshit. They'd start planning the baby shower, a college fund, and booking birthdays 1 through 26 all at once if I told them."
"We're rich, we don't have to worry about college. We practically own every college in America anyway with the tech and funding we give them, anyway."
"Still, they'd just get ahead of themselves way too fast as usual. I just wanted to keep this between me and Danny, but now you have to promise me you're not gonna tell anyone either. Do you promise me?"
Jazz took a long moment to answer, thinking over the situation and her choice options. After a moment to think, Jazz gave her answer.
"Okay, okay. I'll keep it a secret." Jazz said.
"Good. Thank you." Sam said.
"Oh, but I'm still so excited! I'm gonna be an aunt! I can't wait to be able to look at my little niece or nephew!"
Excited over the news, Jazz let out a loud gasp, thinking of a way for the two to celebrate the news together.
"Wait! I know what this calls for! Trip to the mall!" Jazz said.
"Uh... Why?" Sam asked.
"Because we need to do something to celebrate! Y'know, have a little girls' night out. We don't spend enough time doing stuff together."
"It's the middle of the day."
"You know what I mean. Besides, you got something else you'd rather do other than sit around here and watch the news?"
Unable to compete with her sister-in-law's point, Sam reluctantly agreed on the idea to have her needs for amusement met.
"Okay, fine. I guess some shopping would be fun." Sam said.
"Yay! Let's go!" Jazz said.
Grabbing Sam by the arm, Jazz immediately began leading her to the Specter Speeder to head to their destination, inadvertently dragging her along in pain.
"Ow! Careful! Pregnant woman!" Sam said.
"Whoops, sorry." Jazz said.
A flight back to the ground level of Amity Park is what follows for the duo, reaching the Amity Park Mall, a frequent hangout for the younger generation of Fentons in their teenage years. Making rounds of shopping across various stores throughout the complex, they at last find the amusement that they had sought out for the empty amount of time that their lives without anything to do.
Celebrities of the highest degree, they find constant stops in their journey by interruptions from various bystanders, stopping for photo opportunities or autographs by their fans. Much of the outing is spent on meetings and greetings alone, leading them to push through and continue on their shopping agenda.
With an unlimited amount of money at their disposal, being the sole monopoly on all matters involving the paranormal and supernatural, terms now redundant for what is the new normal and natural, there is no expense that they bother sparing. Accompanied by a pair of Jazzbots, the load of weight from their purchased items are transferred to automatic labor, allowing them plenty of armroom to continue shopping.
Soon, their shopping trip comes to a pause at the food court, taking a break from their shopping spree to renourish their bodies once again. Handling her pregnancy cravings that were eating at her stomach throughout the day, Sam fulfilled her cravings with a double veggie burger with a vegan chocolate milkshake, scarfing down the food without hesitation or remorse.
Jazz also had her own helping of food, but ate at it more sparingly. Her primary focus instead was relegated to a notepad consisting of various mathematical equations and drawings, completing her scientific work even during the reserved downtime of their outing.
The scribblings caught the attention of Sam, leaning in to skim through her drawings.
"Whatcha drawing there?" Sam asked.
"Just a theory that I'm starting to work through. Came up with it last night." Jazz said.
"On another one of your caffiene highs?"
"Hey, it worked for some of the best scientists in the world, and it works for me, too."
"And it also makes you hyperactive like earlier when you insisted on going off to the mall when you found out I was pregnant."
"It's not every day your sister-in-law gets pregnant. Besides, you got to go and get a lot of new stuff. Any complaints?"
"No. Just commenting. Now I'm asking a question, what's that you're writing down?"
"It's my theory on where ghosts come from. I haven't worked out all the angles and proofs yet, but I got a bunch of answers that make sense so far."
Taking interest in Jazz's answer, Sam leaned in further to hear more of her theory for herself.
"Ooh, really? Tell me more." Sam said.
"Ah, it's nothing, you wouldn't be interested in this science stuff." Jazz said.
"Jazz, I've been hunting ghosts way before you. Hell, I liked ghost hunting way before you did. You used to think it was all a bunch of bullshit before you finally found out Danny's secret."
"Seeing is believing. You guys convinced me when I finally saw it in real time for myself. But I also came a lot further in understanding the mechanics and technicalities of it a whole lot more than you."
"Just like Maddie. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, huh?"
"Mom wishes she got as far as me as far as ghost science goes. Like I said, I think I finally found out where ghosts come from."
"Well, then, quit building it up and tell me already. I wanna hear."
"Okay. This is the first part that I came up with where I'm working from. You know how some people have their own dreams, desires, and hopes that they want to see fulfilled in their lives?"
"Yeah."
"That plays the most part into my theory. Basically, if you die without accomplishing those goals, that's how you become a ghost. Your goals materialize with your personality traits, becoming what we know as a ghost."
Sam sipped at her milkshake complacently as she listened, as if taking the information with little gravity.
"Uh-huh." Sam said.
"You don't sound sold. Let me guess, a bit far fetched to believe?" Jazz asked.
"No, no, I'm believing it. Please go on."
"Be serious. You think I'm going crazy, don't you?"
"Jazz, I've seen all kinds of crazy ghosts and fought against them with Danny, trapping them in a soup can to stop them from attacking people. I can believe pretty much anything you throw at me that has to do with ghosts."
"Talk about a captive audience. Anyways, all the brain electricity and energy that carries out those thoughts don't just go away when someone dies, they manifest into an electromagnetic form that carries out that goal and intent."
"Energy cannot be created or destroyed. Conservation of mass. I remember it from high school."
"It's the first law of thermodynamics, but that's correct. That makes the ghost not necessarily the person's soul or anything like that, but just a collection of their thoughts and goals. Which I guess isn't too far off from the definition of a soul, now that I'm saying it out loud."
"But if a ghost's just a collection of energy, then it can't really be destroyed either, right?"
"Yes. Again, only in the theory I've come up with so far. Fenton Law of Thermodynamics: Consciousness cannot be created or destroyed."
"How cute. But what about the ghosts we've fought in the past? Maddie and Jack have tons of stuff that blow ghosts to pieces all the time. Isn't that basically like killing them?"
"Killing them? No, they're already dead. It's not exactly destroying them so much as scattering their particles and dispersing their consciousness... which, I guess isn't too far off from killing them, either. Semantics aside, all that really means is that the particles of consciousness don't really get destroyed, anymore than smashing a piece of concrete destroys the concrete itself. It just disperses the particles."
"Then what happens to the particles themselves? Do they just float away into space or something?"
"That's another part I can't quite figure out. There's any number of things that could happen to ghost particles, but I've go no concrete idea as to what the most likely one is."
"But, wait a minute. Then by saying anything could happen to them, then... Well, then anything can happen, couldn't it?"
"What's that mean?"
"Those particles are all ideas, desires, and thoughts. What if they start spreading onto other people? Maybe influence on other people could come from those particles, or even lead to reincarnation."
"You're starting to step into sci-fi territory there."
"Is there a difference in this day and age? I used to be obsessed with a lot of things like magic and witchcraft when I was younger. Magic and witchcraft were just names for things that we just couldn't explain in full with science yet. Even a decade ago, ghosts were still seen as a sci-fi or magical concept, and we were having conversations like this wondering if they really exist. Now, here we are, in an age where we know for a fact that they're real, and we're having the same kind of discussion about the next step."
"That's a fair point... and it gives me another idea. Back in medieval times, people claimed that their belief in gods and devils were so strong that they seemed to be real. That could even be explained again by ghost particles; imagine if so many people believed in the concept that they materialized from someone who died with that belief, or even if such an entity manifested by itself from all those thoughts. But then that would mean reality as we know it is just subject to consciousness... or the other way around, I'm not sure yet. This is getting me really confused."
"Oh, you're getting confused? I'm trying to figure out how we got from going on a mall trip to here. I wasn't even trying to put up a big argument."
"Arguments are the birthplace of the truth, you know. I guess now the only question is, how are we supposed to handle this information and find a way to make money off of it?"
"Ha-ha. There's still one thing that still doesn't make sense to me, though. Where does Danny fit into all this?"
The conversation at last came to a pause; the momentary silence coming into fruition with Jazz stopping to think.
"I didn't think about that. That's another good question. We all used to think that it was just some kind of ghost DNA that passed onto him, but, by their definition, ghosts don't have DNA. That never made sense. In this theory, it would mean that his thoughts and memes all manifested into a completely different being completely." Jazz said.
"So, Danny Phantom would be a different person than Danny Fenton? Please tell me that's not the case, because I don't want to be married to two different people and not have known it." Sam said.
"Well, yes and no. His ghost form would still be made up of all the things that make him who he is, so he wouldn't exactly be different from his regular self. All it would really be is a... 'ghost clone', if that makes sense."
"What do you mean, 'ghost clone'? So it is a different person?"
"Again, yes and no. When he stepped into the portal, it created a ghost without killing him. How exactly he survived I have no idea, but it's technically no different from how other ghosts come into existence. It just exists as a different form for Danny. But how can he switch between back and forth between human and ghost while still keeping his personality is another thing I don't understand. There's still a lot to be figured out about him yet, especially with all the attempts that other countries have made to try to recreate him. If I can find that missing piece, maybe we can prevent other countries from figuring it out altogether."
"Well, I know we used to say how he got the way he did was from DNA, could it be some genetic reason that he survived?"
"Maybe. There's way too many variables that were in place when Danny first went in the portal. Genetics could be just one piece of that puzzle. After all, he's the only other person to successfully have turn half-ghost."
"You know, you can say his name. It's not like we're gonna see him again anytime soon. He's probably dead for all we know."
"Yet you didn't say it, either."
The sisters-in-law shared a moment of silence out of a hidden fear, neither wishing to speak the name of Vlad Plasmius aloud. Even with no idea of his whereabouts nor any sign of his return to be found, the many encounters that they had faced years before make his name hard to utter, leading both to drop the topic altogether.
"I think we've been ranting about science stuff too long." Sam said.
"For once, I think I agree. You about ready to head home?" Jazz asked.
"How about after hitting up a couple more stores?"
"You're on."
The two then moved back to their food, chowing down on their meals to move on to their next shopping spree.
Though never having left their mouths, the thoughts of Vlad Plasmius still linger in the minds of the young women. Their attempts to put him out of their minds is nothing but a childish attempt to keep bad thoughts of a bad person from their thoughts, but the man that they think of is still very real, and very much alive.
'Alive' is a term that applies to him as a mere technicality; life on the Irken prison planet of Carcerem is little that can be compared to an actual life of quality. Barely sustainable for human life kept in the orbit of two small suns giving little light to the planet, it is sustainable only to the prisoners it holds through the complex built upon it to give it slightly more tolerable living conditions.
But occasionally are the prisoners made to trek out into the cold wasteland of Carcerem, put to work for slave labor to serve the Irken Empire and its supplies for war. The planet which holds this prison complex also holds a large collection of the ultra-rare element known as Ectoranium; a rock irradiated with supernatural properties with potential not yet fully grasped by the universe.
The prisoners of Carcerem are put to work to harvest the mineral, being pushed to drill and pickaxe away until they reach the desired rock. Being forced to work in a dangerous environment, the prisoners are given protective suits and even cybernetic implants to allow them the chance to survive in the harsh environment, save for one that has no need for such apparatuses.
As Vlad Plasmius, a living ghost, he has none of the weaknesses of a mortal being. Having lived in the cold vacuum of space in his ghost form, the cold environment of Carcerem is barely a challenge to his being, and allows him to carry out his work without trouble or hassle.
He even finds a way to pass the time with a conversation with his fellow inmate Belasco, making the hard work seem to pass in an even quicker timespan. Continuing their past conversations regarding Vlad and his past, however, that supposedly shorter timespan seemed to have found an extension with annoyance added to his labor.
"[So, do you think you had a wife? I mean, you said you had a daughter, you think you had a wife?]" Belasco asked.
"[I don't think so.]" Vlad said.
"[What about that girl in your dreams you keep talking about? Maybe she was your wife back on your home planet.]"
"[No. I would've remembered something like that, I'm sure of it.]"
"[That's the thing, man, you can't remember anything. Who knows what kind of cool stuff your planet has? I mean, you can survive out here no problem. Do you think anyone else can do that on your world?]"
"[No.]"
"[What about that boy you keep drawing? He looks an awful lot like you, you've both got that same weird look, like you're almost not real. It's really weird. Do you think maybe he's someone close to you?]"
"[I don't know and I don't care.]"
"[Aw, c'mon, Vamp, you gotta care about something in this place. Even if it's just for a story to tell, having a story to tell's better than nothing in this place. Keeps the rest of us sane.]"
"[I'm sane just how I am.]"
"[But, Vamp, you gotta-]"
Taking no liking to his partner's insistent questions, Vlad ceased in his work, setting down his pickaxe to address him directly.
"[Belasco. Listen to me. I don't know where I'm from, and I don't care. All I want to do right this second is just get the goddamn rocks out of here so we can go back inside so I can take my next nap. Good deal?]" Vlad asked.
Belasco raised his hands in a friendly surrender, vowing not to continue the conversation.
"[Sorry, old buddy, just trying to make conversation.]" Belasco said.
"[Hey, you! Enough talking! Get back to work!]" A guard said.
Gaining scrutiny under the eye of an Irken prison guard, the two prisoners returned back to work, picking away at the frozen ground in seach for the mysterious green mineral that their captors required of them to harvest. Chipping away at the ground below their feet, they carried on their task without end, digging to find the treasure buried in the heart of the planet.
Soon, they find it when Vlad strikes at a green glow. However, just as it has happened many times before, being in the presence of the rock made Vlad grow nauseous, leading him to step away from the irradiated element to find relief from its touch. Belasco ceased in his work when seeing the reaction from his teammate, moving to see to his safety at the cost of his own scrutiny.
"[Hey, whoa, Vamp, you okay?]" Belasco asked.
"[F-Fine... Just need a minute... Never could stand that Ectoranium stuff...]" Vlad said.
"[I know, I know, I keep telling the guards not to put you on this kinda work anymore, but I guess they never listen, do they?]"
Put at a temporary stop in their work once again, Vlad and Belasco drew the attention of the same Irken guard, coming to them to address their laziness personally.
"[Hey! What are you doing?! Get back to work!]" The guard said.
"[He's not feeling too good right now. That Ectoranium makes him really sick.]" Belasco said.
"[I don't care! Get back to work now!]"
"[Hey, didn't you hear me? He can't work in this condition! Look at him, damn it!]"
The Irken guard aimed his rifle at the two and cocked it back, preparing to fire on the two for their disobedience.
"[You get back to work this instance, or I'll shoot you both dead!]" The guard said.
"[I said that this man can't work-]" Belasco began to say.
The argument and the threat carried along in it are interrupted by a howl in the air, bringing the rest of the prisoners to a stop as well. Recognizing the sound of the howl, the prisoners and guards alike know well that what they hear is a threat, and know that the threat coming their way is all but inevitable.
Coming into view from the snowy haze of the planet's air, the planet's prison populace caught eye of some of its few existing wildlife: Terra Hounds.
The creatures in question are a strong breed of canine with rock-like skin to protect them from the harsh environment of Carcerem, making them extremely difficult to kill. The great difficulty in killing these creatures is only one of the fears that the prisoners hold for these creatures, for the other fear that they hold is the far more pressing one in their minds.
The fear that the creatures might grow hungry when they stray their way... and the Terra Hounds do grow hungry now.
Rushing towards their newly-presented prey of the prisoners at work, the prisoners themselves respond to the oncoming Terra Hounds by rushing back away to the complex, hoping that they might outrun the hungry beasts and make their way to safety inside the prison once again.
The goal of trying outrun such hostile and strong creatures are enough of a challenge, but the greater challenge lies in trying to get past the Irken guards to get back inside. Rather than allow the prisoners to return to the complex, the Irkens are well aware of the creatures' vitality and speed, so they instead hold the prisoners back to implement a new strategy in dealing with the threat on their hands:
Leave the prisoners to be eaten by the Terra Hounds, and hope that it will be enough to appease the beasts to spare them from a similar fate.
Trying desperately to fight back against the guards and head back inside, the prisoners do not take kindly to their captors' plan, pushing to try to make their way through the guards and head to safety again. Continuing their hold against the crowd of prisoners, the Irkens then moved to lethal force to keep them back.
Aiming their rifles at the prisoners, the Irken guards fired on them, successfully driving back the prisoners while killing a few in the process. Unable to break through the wall of guards keeping them out of the safety of the prison, the inmates were now left at the mercy of the Terra Hounds to fend for themselves.
The hungry alien monsters of the Terra Hounds have no mercy to speak of, and the prisoners have little to call self-defense against the creatures.
The Terra Hounds pounce and leap on their prey, sinking their teeth into the atrophied flesh of the alien bodies that lingered in the prison for so long. Tearing the meat and skin from their bodies, bringing dying screams from the prisoners in the process, the Terra Hounds feast well on the alien prisoners, giving no sense of hope or survival for those unfortunate enough to be on Carcerem.
Their victims are many, but one who is not among their meals is Vlad Plasmius. Recovering from his painful fit from the Ectoranium that once poisoned his body, he stood up tall once again, preparing to make his stand against the Terra Hounds in spite of his fellow inmates failing to do so.
Seeing one Terra Hound look his way with hungry eyes, Vlad immediately knew that the creature had set its eyes on him for its next meal, but he did not consent to being its dinner on this day. Taking a nearby pickaxe from the ground, Vlad raised it to the creature, challenging it to a fight for his life.
Leaping towards Vlad, the Terra Hound's maw was caught on the handle of the pickaxe, chewing down on it rather than its owner. Shoving the beast to the side, Vlad retaliated by raising his pickaxe up and prepared to drop it down on his enemy, driving a sharp, piercing hit to its brain.
However, the creature's thick hide proved not only strong enough to withstand the elements, but also even the sharp cut of the pickaxe itself. Instead of driving into the creature's brain and ending its life, the strike had only managed to chip at the rock-like hide on its head, provoking further anger out from the monster.
Still keeping to his method of attack, Vlad swiped his pickaxe to the beast to try to push it back, not aiming for any specific hit to land. The tactic managed to drive the creature back, but only so far in this tactic did Vlad find any success, and only temporarily did this tactic succeed.
In retaliation, the Terra Hound then rushed to Vlad and swiped its paws towards him, trying to slash at his prey with its claws and tear its ounce of flesh from its selected prey. Dodging away from the swipes was a challenge, but its difficulty was offset by the use of the pickaxe as a compromised weapon.
The Terra Hound did manage to make a cut of its claws into Vlad, but it had only passed through spectral body, leaving him unable to notice it.
Leaping towards Vlad once again, the Terra Hound drove itself directly into the pickaxe in his hands, knocking it out of his hands completely. Piling itself on him once again, the creature leaned in to take a bite of Vlad's face, seeking to consummate its meal at last.
Unable to allow himself become dinner to an alien beast, Vlad grabbed the Terra Hound by its jaws, holding it in place to prevent the bite from coming into him. Pushing back the hungry maw of the creature, Vlad's strength managed to put its salivating mouth at a stalemate; unable to reach any further to bite.
The feat of holding back a Terra Hound's jaws alone would be a feat unlike any other, no prisoner successfully managing to hold back the creature in such a way, but this was not the final surprise in store for Vlad Plasmius. The prisoners fortunate enough to live looked to his first accomplishment in shock, soon finding their looks of surprise increased with what came next.
Green glows began to emit from Vlad's hands, something that the solitary man was never before seen doing or known to be capable of. Keeping his hold on the Terra Hound's mouth, the glow began to glow brighter and brighter by the second, brought about by Vlad's own willpower.
"[Get off me, you ugly monster...]" Vlad said.
The glow brought with it an unnatural heat, beginning to cook and sear even the tough flesh of the Terra Hound. Feeling its skin began to broil and melt under the hellfire being used on it, its primal rage of hunger turned to an uncertain and confused state of fear; its eyes widening in surprise.
Finally, Vlad fulfilled what he started, shouting his desire for freedom in a language he rarely spoke in.
"I SAID, GET OFF ME!" Vlad shouted.
What started as a glow in his hands turned to a full-fledged burst of ectoplasm, firing a deadly beam of energy straight through the head of the Terra Hound. Its own buildup of meat and bone stood no chance against the powers of the supernatural and paranormal, leading the once-deadly alien beast to become a poor victim of the menacing madman once known as Vlad Plasmius.
Firing the blast on the Terra Hound, the undead energy disintegrated the head of the beast completely, leaving nothing in its place but an empty neck, the wound that once held its head now a cauterized stump. No longer possessing a brain to command the body to process its commands and desires, the body of the Terra Hound dropped dead, tumbling over Vlad to lay on the ground.
The prisoners and guards were not the only people to notice this supernatural event, but also the remainder of the Terra Hounds themselves. Seeing their brother fall dead at the hands of one of their supposed prey, the creatures looked to his killer in a primal sense of terror, watching with uncertainty whether this new alpha predator would come for their lives next.
Rising from the ground, Vlad looked to the other Terra Hounds. Still did his mind process the unnatural event which he was the proprietor of, but, true to his Machiavellian nature, he took full advantage of it to see that none further would challenge him or attempt to make a meal of him again.
The Terra Hounds understood the new dominance that was inflicted over them, deciding instead to lick their wounds and flee while they still could. Leaving the deceased member of the pack behind, the alien beasts moved out into the cold wasteland of Carcerem once again to find safety from the new threat.
With the chaos and carnage finally over, the prisoners and guards stepped forward, no longer under the fear of the creatures to hold them back. Their fear now belonged to another member on the steps of Carcerem, and towards one of the prisoners that already had his reputation among the others.
Witnessing the supernatural event that the alien prisoner brought about, the Irken guards approached him cautiously, keeping their rifles up high towards him.
"[You! Wh-What's your name?]" An Irken guard asked.
"[Vamp.]" Vlad said.
"[Are you injured?]"
"[No.]"
The Irken guard cautiously reached to the ground a picked up his pickaxe, tossing it back at him to try to keep his dominance over his prisoner.
"[Then get back to work. This little incident doesn't mean you get a break.]" The Irken guard said.
Moving away from Vlad with haste, trying to find safety away from the apparent new threat that he posed, the Irken guards returned to their guard duties, forcing the other prisoners to resume their manual labor. Likewise, the prisoners moved back to their duties of harvesting Ectoranium, including Vlad with the accompaniment of Belasco to lighten his work load.
But where he once pled to no longer ask any questions, the prior event has led him to ask even more.
"[How'd you do that?]" Belasco asked.
"[Do what?]" Vlad asked.
"[What do you mean, 'do what'? That weird blast you did! I've never seen anyone else do that.]"
"[I- I don't know. It just sort of... happened.]"
"[You don't seem all that shaken up about it. Did you do that kind of thing often back on Earth?]"
The new question made Vlad stop in his work once again, coming to a realization that he may not have had on his own. Knowing how natural that the motion felt when he had done it against the Terra Hound, and how unfazed he now seemed to be, the answer seemed to be less clear than he thought it would be.
"[I... don't know. I may have.]" Vlad said.
"[Ever thought about figuring out how to do it again? Imagine how easier your life could be if you could do stuff like that. Who knows what other kind of stuff you can do?]" Belasco asked.
Belasco's next question made Vlad look to his own hands in contemplation, beginning to smile when pondering the thoughts the question provoked.
"[Yes... Who knows what else I can really do?]" Vlad asked.