FissionMailed

[The Sorrow is roused abruptly by the sound of footsteps in his room. The man standing by his bed, throat open and bleeding, is examining him - and attempting to snarl at him, probably some insult by the tone of his barely-audible gurgling. The Sorrow vaguely remembers the Fear killing him earlier today, but in a long string of death this man does not stand out in any particularly spectacular way. The few understandable words are just as mundane - 'monster', 'madman'. When the stream of curses finally stops, he allows for a small smile.]

Your death, comrade, is just one of many that paves the path before us. It allows us to continue forward-

[He is met with another explosive fit of rage. It's rather annoying to have ghosts shouting at you, and it's early enough yet that someone might still be awake. Along those lines, he looks across the room - her bed is empty, and it's not a surprise. Getting to his feet, he ignores the still-babbling soldier and makes for the door, seeking a way to pass the time until the man slips beyond. Most of them only linger for a few hours anyway.

When he steps through it, however...an empty hallway. How bizarre.]

...

I see. So the spirits have decided to test my mettle in the form of strange dreams.

[Quietly, to himself.]

I am not so easily terrorized nor broken. I hold no regrets.


((Have some Sorrow. Have some evil Sorrow. From darksideofwar's timeline.))