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Mike stood before the beast frozen with fear, but his terror was short lived when he realized he was still in control of his body. He quickly drew is bayonet in his right hand and flipped is pocket knife open with his left and held it upside-down in a stabbing position..

"Bring it bitch. This time I'm ready for you."

The being didn't budge, so Mike made the first move. He lunged forward slashing the bayonet through the being's chest left to right, swiped his pocket knife through its face. He made solid contact both times and the damn thing didn't even flinch. He looked down at his blades and saw that they were nothing more than stubs as though they had been melted.

"Oh, you bastard!"

At that the being simply shoved Mike backwards, slamming him into a tree with enough force to knock some branches loose. He coughed up blood. As he started to get up the being held up its hand and the blade of Mike's bayonet shot out of its palm, hitting Mike in the shoulder and pinning him to the tree. As Mike yelled out in agony he could hear the shadowy beast laughing.

"You evaded my for a long time, but now I collect what is mine."

It came closer to Mike and all color faded to a dingy black and white. The being again held out its hand and Mike could feel himself being pulled forward. He turned back to see his lifeless body still pinned to the tree.

"Well shit, I guess that's it then. I always thought I would go out in a blaze of glory, or fire, either would have been better than this." Mike thought to himself.

Just then Mike faintly heard someone yell what sounded like, "Hey ugly!" Amazingly the being turned and looked just in time to see a large blade glowing bright white and resembling a machete impale him in the face. Mike could see it protruding out the back of its head as he was forcefully pulled back into his body. Before he passed out he saw a blazing white being pounce the shadow being, rip the blade from its head, whip around and cut it in half.

"Collect that." Mike said with a smile as he passed out.

Mike woke to the sound of a crackling fire. He tried to get up and was met with an excruciating pain in his shoulder. He looked down and saw that his entire chest was expertly wrapped in bandages, a spot of red on his left shoulder.

"Oh hey, you're up. Good, we need to go, now." It was Tom and he sounded panicked.

"What's the hurry? I have a hole in my chest." Mike said with a light chuckle, which was met with pain.

"Ha ha. Come on, get up. We are leaving." Tom said as he basically picked Mike up and through his right arm over his shoulder.

"Damn, my whole body hurts, like I was used as a punching bag then rolled down a hill."

"Yeah, that's what happens when your soul gets ripped out and tossed back in."

"I guess that explan- wait, you saw all that?"

"No time to explain, they're coming. We have to get out of here right now." At this point they were at the car and Tom was opening the passenger door for Mike.

"Who's coming? What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'll explain on the road. WE HAVE TO GO NOW!" Tom literally jumped into the car, started it, and spun the wheels as he raced down the trail and out of the woods.

Once on the road Tom floored it, sending the car flying down the road at a somewhat uncomfortable speed.

"Dude, I've never even driven this thing this fast. Slow down before you kill us both!" Mike said to Tom, but he was too preoccupied watching the road behind him.

"Damn..." Tom said under his breath. "Take the wheel."

"WHAT?!? Where the hell are you going?!" Mike exclaimed as he grabbed the wheel.

Tom closed his eyes and soon started glowing. Suddenly he erupted into the blazing white figure that Mike had seen before and slid through the back of the driver seat and through the entire car. Mike looked behind him to see the white figure engage another black figure in combat, but quickly turned his attention back to the car as he started going off the road. As he regained control he noticed a sign fly by. He couldn't be sure, but it looked like it said, "Turn ahead, 30 mph max" Mike looked over at the speedometer and his eyes went wide as it read 85. He quickly and awkwardly made his way to the driver seat and slammed on the brakes just before he reached the hair-pin turn. Once out of the turn he resumed the break-neck speed in an attempt to escape the fight behind him. Without warning, the white creature fazed through the roof and plopped down in the seat and turned back into Tom. He was clutching his right arm and Mike could see some blood trickling down.

"Talk. Now." Mike said sternly.

With a deep breath, Tom explained everything, "They are soul stealers, or at least that's what I call them. One came to me years ago. As far as I can tell, they offer you what you want, then when you are distracted, they steal your soul. It's kind of cliché, but whatever. When the one came to me, I was a weakling, constantly being bullied in school. So what I wanted was strength to fight back. It must have been an amateur because it gave me enough strength to kill it." Tom let out a light chuckle at that last part. "I've been protecting people like us ever since."

"And what about the whole 'blazing white' part?"

"I trained myself to do that. It lets me fly and go through walls. Plus I look bad ass."

Mike nodded towards Tom's bleeding arm. "You kill it?"

"Yeah, It won't be bothering us again. Though his friends might, and I won't be able to take them all. I will have to train you, and fast."

Mike slowed down a bit, not wanting to be pulled over. "Well, seeing as my blades are gone, I'm not much help right now."

"That machete is for you." Tom said nodding to the back seat where it lay perched up against the subwoofer.

"I might need something more than a machete. Wait, how come it didn't just melt like mine did?"

"That's another trick I developed over the years. I can make anything made of steel affect them."

That brought a wide smile to Mike's face as he said, "I've got an idea. I have a few guns still checked into public safety at the school. You could pose as my older brother or something and check them out for me."

"What good would that do? Even if the bullet is FMJ, it just copper and lead. I can only do steel."

"That's the thing, the .308s I have are steel jacketed." Mike said with an evil smile on his face. Tom too smiled as he realized how affective that could be. Mike however silently cursed himself for his stupidity.

"They won't just let some guy saying he is my brother walk out with three guns."

"I can take care of that. How do you think I got the booze?"

"Fake ID..." Mike said with the sudden realization. "Where does he live?" Tom pointed Mike in the direction of his fake ID maker and they drove on in silence for a while. Mike finally asked, "Do you need to see a doctor for that arm?"

"Watch this." Tom said. He closed his eyes and his arms erupted into the blazing white that Mike had seen before. Tom moved his left hand over his arm where it was hurt for several seconds before opening his eyes and the light faded. To Mike's amazement, the injury was gone; just some left-over blood stained his arm.

"Now that's handy, but I take it you can only do that to yourself." Mike said rubbing his shoulder.

"Yeah, sorry." Tom said.

After a long while of driving, Mike pulled over and put on a hoody to hide his face as they approached town. The continued until Mike finally pulled into a driveway.

"I'll be back, this shouldn't take long." Tom said as he closed the car door and walked up to the house and was greeted by a man at the porch. Mike waited patiently until Tom reemerged holding a piece of plastic in his hand.

As he got in, he handed it to Mike for examination. "Did I get all the spelling right?"

"Yeah. Let's hope this works, if not we could be in some real hot water."

Mike pulled out of the driveway and headed towards campus. As he got to the road leading to public safety, he stopped and put it in park.

"What, you want me to walk?" Tom asked.

"I'll pick you up when you come out, but I really don't want to be seen."

"Fine, Just be ready, I don't want to be standing there holding your guns looking like an idiot." And with that he got out and started walking to the small building.

Several minutes passed before he saw Tom open the door, arms full, running towards the car. Mike squealed the Tires and opened the door when he was by Tom. Tom through all the things in the back seat and jumped in slamming the door behind him.

"What the hell happened?!" Mike yelled over the roaring engine as he peeled away.

"Right when the guy gave me the guns and stuff, the lady behind the counter figured out that the ID was a fake."

"Shit, we got company." Mike said looking in his rear view mirror as three police SUVs barreled down the road towards him.

"I got this." Tom said as he went ablaze again and dropped through the floor. Mike watched as the lead car lost control and skidded off the road, followed by the second, and then the third. Tom re-entered the can the same way he exited and turned back to his human form.

"What did you just do?" Mike asked slightly concerned that Tom may have killed them or something.

"I just popped their tires. Easy as pie." Tom said with a smile. Mike let out a sigh of relief.

"So how do you make the things affect those... things?"

"Basically the same way I healed my arm, well it looks the same anyways."

"Well if you have to do that to each one, you should get started, I have a lot of bullets." Mike said as he grabbed the ammo can from the back seat.

After an hour or so of driving, Mike reached the end of the road where it ran into the water. He looked over at Tom who was still busily "enchanting" his bullets. He was about three quarters of the way through the stack of ammo and he looked exhausted.

"That should be enough. If I have to use that many bullets I'm doing something wrong." Tom stopped working and let his hand go back to normal. "So, are you actually on fire or something when you do that?"

"No, but it looks that way doesn't it."

"Yeah it does, and it's too bad you aren't, that could have come in handy as well." Mike thought for a moment and asked, "Are you hungry? I'm starving."

"Yeah, but the only food we had was at the old camp, as well as all our other supplies."

"You never looked in the trunk did you?" Mike said with a smirk as he walked to the back of the car. He hit the small round button on the key fob and lifted the large hatch open. Inside was a box containing several bags of dehydrated meals, a gallon of water, a water filter, a camp stove, and a pot. "My motto was that if I was prepared for the worst, it would never happen. I wasn't entirely wrong."

As they set up the stove and started the water boiling, Mike went to the car and pulled out one of the rifle cases and the ammo box. He sat down and started loading up the ten magazines that he had.

"Why on Earth would you need ten magazines?" Tom asked.

"Well, several reasons. The first, and most important, is that they only cost me a buck a piece. The second is that high-capacity mags are insanely expansive, so I settled for having several normal ones. The third is that you don't want to be in a combat situation and have to pull out a box of ammo and start re-filling your mags."

"And when will you ever be in a combat situa- oh, now." He said realizing what he was saying.

After Mike was done with the magazines, he walked back over to the car and pulled out a smaller case and then went to the trunk and got something from there as well. As he returned Tom could see that it was a shoulder holster, but it was huge.

"What kind of monster goes in that?" Tom asked motioning towards the holster.

Mike simply opened the case and showed him. It was a .357 magnum revolver with an eight inch barrel. Tom let out a long whistle as he looked at it.

"Where did you get that beauty?"

"It is technically my dad's, but he's not getting it back." Mike said as he reached for the ammo can. He pulled out a box of ammo, loaded the pistol and two speed loaders, then put them all in the holster and put the holster on.

"That won't do you any good thought, will it?" Tom asked him.

Mike's enthusiasm left him as he realized that the bullets were only made of lead, but none the less kept the holster on. Just then, the water came to a boil and the two prepared their meals.

"By the way, what is shooting the bullets I worked so hard on anyways?"

Mike pulled the case that he got the magazines out of onto his lap and opened that main pocket. He just let Tom look at it for a moment before he said, "It's a Century Arms CETME Sporter. If you have ever played CoD4, it is exactly like the G3, only it is semi-automatic instead of full-auto."

Soon their food was ready and they chowed down. By this time it was very late, and both of them were very tired. Tom opted to sleep in the passenger seat of the car because it leaned back until it was almost horizontal. Mike found a nearby tree and they were soon both asleep.