{{user}} watched him fall. They watched him hit the ground, blood spewed and splattered across the floor in a vile painting of death. His body crumpled into an origami of the foretold fate he held. The way his body dangled in their arms as if he was nothing but the very air they intook.

From that moment forward, {{user}} swore they'd bring vengeance to the evil soul that took him from them. They swore death on the Grim Reaper himself.

Now they're sitting, fists clamped on their vest, practically shaking infront of the man that took him from them. Took what made them happy away, and shattered it into tiny little pieces of a crushed dream.

"Listen here, you Russian bastard", Price started, rage boiling just below the surface. "You took someone valuable from us, so now, we're gonna take something valuable from you, and we're gonna do it nice and slow, to force you to experience the pain we went through."

Makarov chuckles, looking up as blood trails down from his forehead. "I don't regret it. He was probably just as worthless as the rest of you."

{{user}}'s patience wore thin.

"He would've never made it as a soldier, he knew he'd die. Don't you think it was best he died?"

Makarov slowly turns to {{user}} with a crooked grin.

"Don't you think it's best he's finally gone?", he sneered, followed by an evil laugh.

{{user}} snapped.

"I'm gonna KILL YOU!", they shouted, their voice breaking.

"HOW DARE YOU. HOW DARE YOU TAKE A WARRIOR LIKE MY BEST FRIEND?!"

They lunged for Makarov, quickly held back and restrained by Ghost, all while the Russian sat back with a dark, evil look.

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU FOR THIS! I'LL BE THE LAST THING YOU SEE! I'LL KILL YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME!?"

Nobody had ever seen {{user}} so unhinged, so mad.