An interesting idea - I would definitely like to see more of this concept and where it goes. 1 little critique/suggestion of wording
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For a hero he may be, a title and mantle thrust upon him by the government and the citizens who have been assisted by him in their times of need. He is still a man, and as a man he is subject to the emotions which can at time rule the human heart and mind.
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maybe something like this: For though he is called a hero, a title thrust upon him by circumstance and those he protects, he is still a man; and as a man he is subject to base human emotions, which can rule the heart and mind - overwhelming reason
I am sure my punctuation isn't perfect - but HTH
keep up the good idea too 
Tevash Szat was a student majoring in Theater at Paragon University. Needing a way to supplement his meager college income, he found work as a male escort. Pulling jobs when not in class or rehearsal, the combination of intellect and brawn soon made him one of the most sought after men in town. Because of his newly found status as a "gentleman of the night' he was more often than not able to pick and choose the company he would keep for the evening.
But, there were times where such decisions were not his to make, at least not without the chance of severe bodily harm. One of those instances came about when approached by members of the Council. Soon after the initial meeting he found himself seated at a banquet table for a bogus fund raiser with "Human Rights" as the cover for the villain groups latest scheme to bring in outside bills to support their work. Seated as he was with many members of the upper brass within the organization, he was a prime target for the invading force of Crey and Vahzilok which crashed the party.
Finding himself one of the many captives who were drugged and forced down into the sewers, his hopes of rescue and escape faded a little each day. One by one his fellow captives where hauled off by the Vahzilok Reapers and forced to be subjected to horrific experiments which contained a combination of science and magick. Many times those who he shared the cells with did not return, but other times they did; formerly whole men and women reduced to little more than weeping and crumpled shells of their former selves. With each passing moment his terror and horror grew until they engulfed him, became part of him, and he survived by escaping his captivity by falling into self imposed dream worlds...
Little by little the waiting and the not knowing increased the growing insanity, fostered the need for his mental escapes until finally it was his turn to be subjected to a battery of tests and experiments.
Strapped onto a rolling bed, the sheets beneath him dirty and in some places still moist with coagulating blood, he could feel the lice crawling into his hair. The stench of the sewers combined with rot laced with human excrement was overpowering and it was all he could do to keep himself from vomiting and possibly choking upon his own bile since he could not move his head.
Severed limbs dangling from steel hooks decorated the stone cielings like a macabre mural.
Eventually saved from the horrific sights as the flow of his tears partially blinded him to the world around him. His throat raw from weaks of screaming in the hopes that someone would hear him, combined with putrid food which led to growing infections in his esophagus made him now a little mor vocal than a mute.
But still he pleaded for his life, his a voice a hoarse and croaking whisper which faded upon the stagnant air almost as soon as it was pushed past dry and cracked lips. His attempts to recoil from the cold and clammy touches of the cadavers which ventured close due to a mixed combination of morbid curiosity and hunger were thwarted by the leather restrains which bound him to the chair; it was only the commands of those who transported him which saved him from the fate suffered by many, living meals for Vahziloks army of the undead.
The doors to his "operating" room were eventually reached, and with a solid push of his rolling bed they were forced open.
He was to be the test subject for a new super soldier within the Vahzilok empire...A combination of Paragon Protector and Eidolon he was given the "honor" of being worked upon by Dr. Vahzilok himself. But the information given to the doctor by the Crey was faulty, one part of his deal with the Crey gone sour.
Another failed experiment, that's all he was to Vahzilok, and like any failed experiment, he was simply discarded. Weak and bleeding, holding onto the last few threads of life which kept his soul bound to his mortal shell, he was tossed into the cart with the other bodies both whole and in pieces which awaited their turn to be dumped into the incinerator.
But the fates had orchestrated another destiny for this man, this victim...
Though the others who were made captives with him were not so lucky, for he was the last to be chosen for their dark and evil work had all now passed. A group of heroes had finally managed to make their way past the army of minions which shielded the doctor here within his lair, and even though the doctor managed to escape, they reached Tevash in time, though barely.
Sheltered within the healing Embrace of one known as Eevac, his broken and bleeding form was suffused with enough healing energy to keep him sustained until he could be taken to a hospital where true healing work could be performed. Months have been spent in recovery for both the phsysical and mental parts of his being...And if only Dr. Vahzilok could see him now.
For the being which he sought so desperately has emerged within the form of Tevash Szat, a perfect blend of the poison spine wielding Protector combined with the control of death and its dark energy that is wielded by the Vahziloks very own Eidolons.
The mental instability which was so vital to Tevash's survival during the time of his captivity in some ways has remained. Thought that is only an educated guess made by some of those who have taken the time to talk and study him now that he has healed enough to be able to take interviews.
Donning the name "The Butch Buccaneer" and aquiring an eclectic "costume" that employs elements of Dark Age pirate with modern day Biker he has taken to the streets in the hopes of saving the other innocents within this city and hopefully in time the world from being forced to endure the same treatment and horrors that he was subjected to.
In time, once he has learned to control his powers, and advanced far enough within them to be a true force to reckon with he shall hunt down the Doctor. Whether the Doctor will survive or whether Tevash will survive is a question which none can answer. For a hero he may be, a title and mantle thrust upon him by the government and the citizens who have been assisted by him in their times of need. He is still a man, and as a man he is subject to the emotions which can at time rule the human heart and mind.
Vengeance burns strong.
Please offer critique's of the story thus far. If you would like to read more, please let me know and I will work out a way to narrate his progression.