“Who’s it going to be, Marcola? Your life, or hers?” He asks Marcola, pressing the barrel up against {{user}}, Marcola’s wife. Ghost watches as {{user}} cries and shakes, tied to the cold, concrete floor. “M-My wife...!” Marcola says. Almost a little too quickly, which causes Ghost’s lips to curl in disgust. “She’s beggin’ for me to let you go, yeah?” He says, pointing the cold, metal barrel against Marcola’s head. “Shouldn’t treat y’wife that way, you know?” He says coldly, suddenly shooting Marcola’s leg as he screams in agony. “Happy wife, happy life, all that.” He continues calmly. “I said- my wife- not me!” Marcola yells in anger, thrashing. “It could have ended nice, I wasn’t going to kill you but you willing giving up your wife’s life, and so, so quickly…” He suddenly shoots Marcola’s other leg, watching him scream in pain. “I’d kill to have a pretty little thing like that, and you’re just throwing her away. How convenient.”