The Man With A Dream pt 6

While Alastor was thinking of names, locations, and plans, Wesley(now dressed in adequate clothing he " borrowed" from some junkies) silently shadowed behind him.

He had accepted Alastor's notion of becoming a "star". 

Not only did Wesley owe the man his life, but the devil of deals had offered the opportunity to enact vengeance on the Bat-family.

An offer he couldn't resist.

Though to say he wasn't skeptical would be a misconception. 

Wesley had seen a myriad of villains declare the same thing over the years, and not one succeeded.

All ultimately failed when coming face to face with Batman.

However, he was willing to risk it, he had nothing else to live for regardless.

Additionally, with the power his new boss carried, Wesly had a feeling people would flock to Alastor in droves once word got out.

And word would get out sooner or later judging from Alastor's temperament.

The man was an attention whore through and through. That was apparent even for him.

Alastor wouldn't keep to the shadows for any extended period of time. The minute he could have all eyes on him he would.

If that'd be his downfall or not only time would tell.

However, as Wesly glanced at the still grinning man he recognized he didn't actually know what the deal maker had planned.

" Hey boss, what exactly is our plan?" Inquired the ex-soldier.

Whirling around to peer at him, Alastor, with his perpetually creepy smile, spoke with exuberant quantities of enthusiasm.

" Well, we have to prepare for your dramatic opening into the realm of Supervillains of course! We can't allow you to be underestimated now can we?" The demon said with a crooked smile.

Astonished by the Radio demon's admission, Wesly actually faltered in his following step.

With wide eyes and a stupefied expression, the military vet gawked at Alastor with incredulity.

" Sir, with all due respect, I think you're mistaken with how capable I am. I may be a veteran but I'm no Batman level fighter." Wesley explained wearily.

He'd be the first to acknowledge he wasn't as promising as most real villains in physical combat. The only stuff he absolutely outclassed most in was the fact he was a certified jack of all trades.

There was a reason he had been eligible to settle down so easily before being shoved in that vat of toxins. His skill set qualified him to accept most assignments without concern of screwing up too badly.

He actually had a bit of a reputation amongst his fellow employees as to what the perfect henchman should be.

" Oh, but you will be! With what I have in mind you'll be fighting on par with the entire Bat-family in no time! Furthermore, with the deal we made you are already adequate enough to combat one of Batman's less competent aids directly." Said Al with his eyes glowing green at the mention of their contract.

Awkwardly fumbling with his dog tags, Wesley couldn't help the look of uncertainty and confusion that washed over him.

He didn't wish to outwardly challenge his new boss, but he didn't believe he could compete with one of Batman's brats just yet.

Alastor, catching sight of Wesley's misgivings, rolled his eyes before gesturing for the veteran's arm.

Lending his boss the appendage, Wesley watched in awe as one of Alastor's fingers transformed red and claw-like.

[Image here]

" Perhaps a demonstration is required. Please endeavor not to squirm excessively."  

Thus without any buildup, Alastor plunged his clawed finger through the hand of Wesley.

The claw encountered no resistance, it was like seeing a heated blade go through butter, but with the addition of gore.

Regardless, Wesley didn't react much besides an ample grunt of pain and discomfort.

He'd amassed worse injuries in the past. The most noteworthy being the time a saber found itself impaled through his abdomen.

Still, Wesley was bewildered as to why Alastor would do that.

" Uh, what was the point of that?" Wesley asked as he nursed his pained hand when Al let it go.

Small droplets of blood hit the pavement below them as he moved to drape his hand in a torn article of fabric.

Alastor didn't acknowledge him and just snapped his fingers.

To Wesley's astonishment, the wound immediately shut itself before vanishing like it was never there.

Amazed, he rapidly looked between his hand and Alastor utterly confused.

"Wha-how? I-I'm lost. How in the hell did you do that!" He questioned.

Alastor chuckled and conjured a contract with a puff of green energy.

"As per the agreement', "" I take all current and future ailments you may have for my own manipulation and safekeeping''", this encompasses physical ones such as that hole I just made in your hand," Alastor said as he skimmed the document.

Wesley was shell-shocked as he thought of the implications.

Particularly regarding death.

"Doesn't that mean I can't die? Like you'll just bring me back if I did?" He inquired, almost frightened of the answer.

Alastor conveyed him an inquisitive look at that topic, like he hadn't thought of that before (Which he hadn't).

" I'm not certain. Would you care to test it?" Said Alastor with a curious tone.

Hastily Wesly shook his head. While the concept of coming back to life was intriguing, the method was something he didn't prefer to experience.

Shrugging, Alastor dispelled the contract,  turned back around, and continued walking, leaving Wesley in deep thought.

If he couldn't be hurt or killed wouldn't that make him….

Immortal?