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Dead Head shrugged, "there is similarities, sure, but like ya said, this is the quick an' messy model, but you's the deluxe package, with all them bells an' whistles."

 

The blot struggled in the air, stretched tendrils back to the nurse, but the revenant's power proved stronger.

 

"Still, I guess it is kinda like wakin' up in the middle a' havin' open heart surgery an' seein' what all's inside ya.  That's gonna be unnervin' t'some." 

 

The blot struggled more, thrashing about in his mental grip.  It also appeared to be shrinking, burning away without a host to feed on.

 

"You got t'keep most a' yer soul, though, so this," he nodded to the evaporating blot, "ain't all that's inside ya.  It's a part a' ya, yeah, but it ain't all a' ya."

 

The blot tried once more to escape Dead Head's power, slamming against an invisible barrier as it tried to worm its way back into a living host.  The last of it evaporated into nothingness, leaving nothing but a fading hiss.

 

Dead Head staggered back, "woof, that was a nasty bugger."

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Mister Strix

 

While Dead Head attended to the second infected "patient", the man in white turned around and walked into the other cell where Roberto Hernandez was strapped down. No. Not Hernandez. The thing that killed Hernandez. The evil disgusting thing that's wearing the face of the man it killed so it can go out there into the night and do it again, and again, and again, and it will not stop, it will not stop. Even shielding his eyes behind his cape, he had to fight to walk past the silver bars of the cell, like he was pushing past the incoming tide to walk into the ocean. He reached down with one hand to grab Hernandez's throat, bracing against it for leverage. His other hand closed around the top of Hernandez's head like a mechanical vise. You're a terrible teacher, Johann. But I must admit, I have learned a thing or two. In one fluid motion, Strix yanked hard enough to snap Hernandez's neck in half and tear his head free from his shoulders.

 

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GM

 

When Mister Strix first entered Roberto Hernandez's cell, Hernandez growled and hissed as he had with Dead Head. But as Strix got closer, Hernandez sniffed the air, and studied him. And he started laughing. It was a deep, gravelly laugh, like stone scraping against stone, like he was clearing his throat but it couldn't get clear. The laughter was barely stifled when Strix's fingers clamped down around his neck and squeezed. He was still laughing when Strix ripped his head off. Both the head and the body crumbled into ash almost instantly, the destruction radiating out in both directions from what remained of the creature's neck. Those red eyes were still glaring into Strix's black ones and that fanged maw was still laughing as they disintegrated in Strix's hand. Strix felt as though he could still hear the laughter for several moments after Roberto Hernandez's corpse ceased to exist.

 

The essence of the Red Death infection that Dead Head pulled out of the second victim dissipated as quickly as the first had once he'd pulled it out of the mortal's body.

 

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Mister Strix

 

The man in white growled that caged tiger's growl that Dead Head had heard so many times already it barely phased him anymore. He stormed out of the now-empty cell. "I'll send someone down here with a broom. And a zipper bag. The ashes might come in handy someday. Ritual component, something like that. Probably not infectious like their blood, but still, not something we want someone inhaling. I'm going upstairs to grab a shower and a new uniform." He glanced down at his torn and blood-soaked jumpsuit. "It's safety, not vanity. I should have scrubbed up and thrown this damned thing into the incinerator the second I got home, instead of tracking this crap up and down the house. I'm a walking bio-hazard. We leave for the shelter as soon as I'm done. Horus and the brat are probably there already." He started stomping off, his footsteps as strangely silent as ever, but then he stopped, and looked halfway back over his shoulder. "Thank you." He turned his gaze to the hallway in front of him, his back to Dead Head. "I didn't want to kill them. Too many bodies on my conscience already. Too many ghosts following me everywhere I go. But I would have killed them, if you hadn't been here to save them. Thank you."

 

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  • 4 weeks later...

Hunh.  So he can show a softer side.  There's hope for ya yet, buddy, an' I'm gonna make sure ya cross that threshold, even if I have ta drag ya, kickin' an' screamin'.

 

Dead Head didn't both responding, since a] he wasn't sure Strix would be comfortable receiving acknowledgement of his thanks, and b] Strix was likely already out of earshot.  (The last one wasn't actually much of an issue, since he'd worked out how to telepathically communicate with other undead, but he wasn't going to push it.  Especially as he was feeling a bit light-headed from his recent exertions.)  So instead he took one final look at the two guests auras.  Finding no trace of the Red Death curse/infection in them, he headed back up to the ground floor, whistled for Mutt, and began walking towards the shelter.  Srix'll probably still get there 'fore me, fast as he is.

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