[Death's voice cuts through meager things like the air and physics. It's raw power manifested in a familiar sound. He can't read minds, though. Merely guess at how people think.]

A SCIENTIST, THEN? YOU DON'T LOOK MUCH LIKE AN ASSASSIN.

[Death keeps his sword up and holds an arm out to cover Flug. A zombie snarls at him before the very noise being cut off along with it's head.]

KEEP UP WITH THAT FLAME SHOOTING DEVICE. IT SEEMS TO BE QUITE USEFUL.