I've been meaning to post this as a flashback for one of my BZPRPG characters. However, I forgot about it and was recently reminded of it by reading LeHakwa's recent blog entry. So, here it is.

A Ko-Matoran sat alone, shaking over a desk with a bottle of dark red liquid clutched in his hands.

His name was Dr. Kerro, leader of an isolated science team from the island only known as 'The Desolate Zone'.

Truthfully, the place was a nightmare, a present time Voya-Nui, no Toa, constant death and no stabilization to the ocean floor.

So he and a group of five Matoran, including a Ga-Matoran of whom he had an eye on, left the island to find a way to help his Matoran.

However, things had gone terribly wrong...

She died.

The Ga-Matoran whom he loved, but was not able to tell her...just died...

He was guilt struck. He had forgotten all about their prime objective...

His mind shifted to something else.

He would find a way to bring her back to life.

Needless to say, this only caused him more pain.

He had tested his experiments on his other colleagues.

They died.

Now, he was alone, the only person to test his last prototype on was himself.

Gently, he tipped the bottle to his lips.

Without him noticing, a small puff of black vapor came through the vents and entered his mouth as the drop went down his throat.

Kerro shrieked as he felt a burning sensation all over his body.

His body burst into a massive, black flame, burning the building to the ground.

*****

Kerro opened his eyes to see two beings standing over him.

The first was a tall cloaked being, wearing black gloves over his hands.

The only notable feature was his blank, iron mask.

At his side was a quivering Po-Matoran, also staring at him.

"Greetings," the first said. "My name is Srihr Stagg, head of the Brotherhood of Makuta science devision 5-01. I was wondering if you'd be willing to join our cause, after all, I doubt you'll be willing to go anywhere else."

Kerro was about to question this. He raised his hand. He didn't scream, he wasn't afraid, he wasn't happy, sad, mad, nothing. He just didn't care about anything.

However, his hand...it had no flesh, it was just pure bone, with a red index finger.

The rest of his body wasn't much different, all bone, nothing else.

His mask was still on his face. The rest of his clothes and Matoran armor was most-likely shredded by the spikes sticking out of his back.

"And what's in it for me?" he finally spoke.

"Mahkaal, show him."

The Po-Matoran hefted a long case over his shoulder and opened it.

Inside was a scythe and a sword.

"These weapons react to a confident and fearless user such as yourself," Srihr explained. "In return, they will exploit your opponent's worst nightmares. So Dr. Kerro, are you in, or are you out?"

"Kerro...Was a weak and loving Matoran..." Kerro whispered with no emotion. "I am not he."

"I am Bones."