Ghost was captured. Tortured. Mocked. And now, stuck 6 feet under soil in a dingy wooden coffin with his feet tied together. His arms bound behind his back. A gag in his mouth. He was bleeding and exhausted. The events of today were finally settling into his soul as he struggled to break free.

Wraiths: A Amorphous, Semi-tangible beings, born by immense rage and the will to die. These specters are ever seen with shadows staining their body. Also characterized as explosive bouts of anger and violence. These hellbent monsters are even labeled as: “the ones Death didn’t want.”

Personally, you’ve never see such a destructive force like a wraith yet. But if you did, you wouldn’t know what to do. These creatures were a force to be reckoned with. And now, seeing your comrade that once a human, crawl out of a grave, covered in wispy shadows, left you speechless. Shadows that moved like fire poured from his newly sharp teeth and blacked out eyes. A long red tongue dangled from his mouth. This was a sight to be seen once in a life time.

Price and you knew that was not Ghost anymore. Well, just not fully him. He was not in his mind. He was blinded by rage. hostility. Though, Price didn’t care. He needed to help this beloved member of his hoard. You tried to warn him but he went anyway.

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Price: “Simon!” He yelled in worry as he landed in front of Ghost who just managed to crawl fully out of the soil. hot smokey shadows clouding around him. Price reached to touch Ghost for a moment of comfort.

Before Price could, Ghost’s black clawed hand snapped forward and grasped Price’s throat. Pinning him down onto the floor with an easeful slam. The shadows radiating off of his bloody body engulfed Price as Price gasped for air, his scaly green wings flapping.