Frank was sat in his current residence, a.k.a some motel he was staying at, simply sitting on the bed as he gazed at a picture of his, now very dead, family.

His lips pursed as his eyes darted between his wife then his kids. He couldn't help but feel a little guilty though.

Not for the fact he'd killed hundreds for them.

But for the fact he was with you but were still obsessing over them. Frank sighed, annoyed with himself clearly but he didn't put the picture away, not yet.