A/N I finally decided to write a story on Thrax's childhood. I'll also continue through "Almira's Story", showing his POV on meeting Almira. I don't own Thrax; he belongs to Warner Bros. I DO own his surname, his family, and other characters you don't recognize from Osmosis Jones.

DNAngelFangirl: I guess we all do :)

Princess LaLaBlue: Thanks :D I'm trying to turn him into the virus we know and love from the movie. I just felt he'd do that.

LaMuerteRoja: Yeah, Thrax! :D

Devilgirl123: Thanks :) I know; I have the same name. Did you forget?

thebigcrunchone9: Thank you :) Yep, he is :D

Chapter 12

5 Years Later…

Thrax sliced his claw through a germ, watching with an emotionless expression as orange bubbles appeared on it. He ignored its screams of pain as it melted away.

He glared swiftly at the other germs. They immediately cowered down. "Any more of that, an' that's what'll happen to the rest of you!" The germs nodded in fear.

Thrax dimmed his claw and sighed, brushing his dreadlocks back. Stepping over the mess of boiled germ, he walked to the door of the warehouse he had made his hideout. "W-where're you goin', Boss?" One of the germs asked timidly.

"Out fer a walk," Thrax answered, not looking back. "An' I'm goin' alone. An' someone clean up that mess!" He slammed the door shut, shaking his head irritated. Germs, oi.

As he walked down the streets in silence, he thought back on the past few years. He was now twenty-three years old, and had several victims under his belt; or rather, in his chain. After his first victim, he had decided it would be easier to recruit some thug germs to do some dirty work. When Thrax came to a body he wished to take down, he recruited germs. If any of them pointed out that they would die, Thrax would promise to save them. Of course, unknown to the germs, he had his claws crossed behind his back.

Thrax sighed softly, enjoying the peace and quiet. His ears perked up at a noise. Looking in the direction he heard it, he saw the back of a tall person. It didn't look like a cell or germ; in fact, if Thrax was correct, it was a virus. It had light brown boots, gray sweatpants, and a black sweater that looked like it had been clawed on the left side and back, and the left sleeve was torn off; the right side was folded up to the dark green virus's elbow. Said virus also had had shoulder-length hair.

Scowling, Thrax started for the stranger. "Hey!" He snapped. "This is my turf; my body! Get yer own!"

The virus turned at the voice. He had narrow yellow eyes and two slits for nostrils; his hands had short black claws.

Thrax froze; his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He just stood there in utter shock. The virus, however, grinned widely, showing small, sharp teeth. "Thrax! Buddy!"

At his name, Thrax scowled darkly. "Ed." He snarled.

Ed chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Damn, it's been years!" His smile faltered when he saw the Red Death's scowl, but thought nothing of it. "I mean, it's been, what, four years?"

Thrax didn't say anything. He continued to stare at the virus in hatred, remembering how he acted during their school years, and what he did before leaving the rat. Finally, he growled out, "Why?"

Ed raised an eyebrow. "Why what?"

"Why did you leave the rat?"

Ed sighed, "You know me. I wanted to get an early start on my killing career."

"No, that's not why. Yer lying." Thrax pointed an accusing claw at the Ebola virus. "You left because you didn't want to face me. You were a coward, an' decide to save yer own skin."

"Thrax, what are you talking about?"

"You know dam well what I'm talkin' about!" Thrax yelled loudly, not caring if anyone heard. "You killed my family! You stormed into my house, an' murdered my mom and little sister! I saw yer message on the wall! 'Red Death is a common cold compared to Ebola'. Ring any bells, Ebola?"

Ed just stared at him before his face hardened into a scowl. "I did you a favor."

"What?" Thrax shouted.

"Your family was weakening you. You told me your mom was always talking about you or your sister becoming a Red Death vaccine. That's not what a virus is! A virus kills! A virus is feared! Your mother would have weakened you!"

"Never. Call. Me. Weak!" Thrax yelled at the top of his lungs; his eyes seemed to be flaming with rage. "I ain't weak! An' neither is Red Death! I'm gonna prove it to. I'm gonna put Red Death in the medical books, surpassin' every known disease; even you."

A sick, evil grin spread across Ed's face. "You can't if you're not alive!" He charged at his former best friend, claws out.

Thrax jumped aside, and then grabbed Ed by the back of his neck. He threw him around so they were facing each other, and punched him across the face and in the stomach. Yelling out in pain, Ed scratched at Thrax, catching him just under his hairline. Then he punched him in the stomach as hard as he could. Thrax kicked him away and head butted him in the forehead. Ed stumbled back, but ran right back, claws out. Thrax scratched him in the stomach with his own claws, and kicked him in the groin, making him scream in pain. Ed tried to punch Thrax in the face, but he caught his fist and shoved him away. Then he did a roundhouse kick into his side, throwing him to the ground.

Before Ed could sit up, Thrax planted his foot on his chest. He stood over him, panting softly. Blood was oozing out from the scratch on his head, but he paid no mind to the liquid dripping down his face near his eyes. He stared down at the Ebola virus with hatred. Finally, he grabbed Ed by the front of his sweater and hoisted him up so they were looking each other in the eye. They continued to glare at each other, paying no attention to their wounds and bruises.

Finally, Thrax cracked a cruel grin and raised his burner claw. Ed's face paled slightly. Thrax ran his dim claw across the Ebola virus's neck, slitting it. Ed tried to cry out, but no sound came from his cut throat. "Ya think Red Death's a common cold compared to Ebola?" Thrax asked in a low, cold voice. He dropped Ed to the ground, put his foot on his chest again, and leaned down against his knee, still staring Ed in the eye. "I got news for you, baby: Ebola is a case of dandruff compared to Red Death."

Ed only glared up at him before laying flat on the ground, bleeding heavily from his neck. His yellow eyes glazed over as the life left them. He was dead.

Thrax stood up and brushed back his dreadlocks, sighing. He had done it; his family was avenged. Some would think he was sorry to lose his best friend. But he had lost him years ago; his heart had hardened so no death, be it human, germ, cell, or virus, saddened him.

After several minutes of silence, he lifted his foot off of the virus's body. Glaring at it one last time, he slowly began walking back to the warehouse. He stepped in and walked straight for the first aid kit—even cells and germs had them—ignoring the germs' questions about his wounds and what had happened. He wordlessly cleaned the scratch on his head and rubbed cream in the bruise developing on his stomach. For the rest of the day, he sat by a window, just staring outside, lost in his thoughts.

A/N Sorry it's so short. Bet it's worth it, huh? Now you see why I figured everyone would like this one, seeing as everyone hates Ed.

...Yeah, I'm sometimes not good with fight scenes ^^; But I think I did pretty decent anyway.

The next chapter time-jumps again; it's also when he first meets Almira. I'm not gonna exactly follow "Almira's Story" just as a warning, since this is in Thrax's POV, and AS was in Almira's POV.