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The blight of the Wicked Ghost Ter.. . . ' ` No. I won't say her name. Thinking it pains my heart; our past, our history, what we once were. I dare not even write it, because if I do, then she is really gone. At least at the present moment I can entertain the thought that she is somewhere, alive and well, smiling and happy.. When I do, somber days become less so... and even in this house, this begotter of sin and malice, I am not so alone. People hunt me down, attempting glory from their guild masters, as if I'm some easy quest.. as if a sword through my gut can truely vanquish me. They know not of pain beyond the physical world, to have your soul wretched and forsaken... <b>I will make them hurt. <b> I will make them never forget... <b> And I will do it with a grin on my face. They call me the Wicked Ghost, when they are the wicked ones. Coming in my keep, seeking adventure and gold that does not belong to them. How dare they be so ignorant. There is only one way to truely release me from this world, to unhand my grasp on this Buyan house. She is the key... <b> ..~``.. - Mahiko awoke with a start, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. Perhaps he would be taken seriously, then! They would revere him! He would be the one that finally sanctified the Haunted House, and leave his clumsy demeanor in the dust. Grabbing his blade, he set off in the early morning toward the creepy abode where he would finally make his reputation as a legitimate warrior. The air inside was stale and miserable, and a shiver crept down his spine. He could walk out now, no one would have to know about it.. He could handle being the laughing stalk of the town.. not living up to his father's reputation... With a sigh, he stepped forward despite his unsettling fear. After all, it isn't courage unless you're afraid, at least that was what his father used to say. The zombies moved like they had nowhere to go; aimless, slow and no will of their own. Mahiko decided it best to avoid any unnecessary dangers and skipped the confrontation. He had bigger fish to fry, or rather, bigger ghosts to... Well, whatever you do to ghosts to make them go away. The walk was long and arduous, and every ten steps or so there would be a snare to evade. An array of voices traveled in the air; whispers, moanings, screams. Each with an inauspicious history behind it. Mahiko stopped in dead tracks, and turned around in instinct. It was a ghost, not white and transparent, but rather brown and ambiguous. Angry and sad. Almost stumbling over his own feet, Mahiko rushed forward and pierced the spirit through it's heart, or rather, the place where his heart would normally be. But the ghost didn't moan in pain, it didn't let out it's final cry and disappear. It floated toward Mahiko and hit him in the face, hard, and he went flying across the room. The doors shut suddenly. Locked. Mahiko had no way to run, no means of escape. Putting his arms over his head in shelter, he saw beside him, written in blood, a word, a name. "Tereesah.." Mahiko said aloud, in wonder and in slight fear. The ghost snapped around and had a look of horror and sadness on his face. He opened his mouth and a tear rolled down his cheek.. <b> "My love.. Tereesah.." And he was gone. Disappeared in thin air, an anti-climactic ending to a broken man. Mahiko was puzzled, confused, and completely ignorant to the woman who had saved his life and salvaged the Wicked Ghost's. -XdeGeNeRaTeX | |