The Ghost drifted lazily along the hallway, his feet moving in a rolling heel-toe gait. His dark eyes glittered in the dim illumination of the wall sconce lights, turned down in this area for efficiency's sake. Coming to a smooth halt at last by one section of otherwise unremarkable wall, he paused and seemed to stare at nothing.

In truth, he saw much more than the unremarkable walls.

The Ghost saw right through the wall in his mind, having no need of his physical eyes to direct his attention. The thick interior wall was load-bearing, almost four feet of solid stone. Beyond that was a little-used conference room. Tonight, two men would be meeting there. They intended to exchange money and words, then walk away. One man was the presiding judge of a small court, where a case was being examined with great discretion. The other... Aito's jaw rippled in silent anger.

He couldn't hear through the stone, that wasn't his gift, but he didn't need to. What else could the two men be discussing? The case in question was a rather messy accusation of rape, and the details were open-and-shut. That the girl had been brutalized was beyond question, Aito had ghosted into her hospital room and seen her injuries himself. The accused had been the only one seen leaving her home, she'd recently insulted him, he'd sworn to hurt her... it was very clear. With those facts, the only ones presented, it was damning evidence. Aito would have voted guilty himself.

But Aito knew something more.

The judge was being bribed to speed the trial along. Swift justice, closure for the poor girl so she could begin to recover, that was the excuse. It was understandable, almost forgivable, the judge thought he was honestly doing the family a favor, and enjoying the opportunity to make a little cash while he was at it. That wasn't worthy of death.

No, the wickedness he was here for stemmed from something else.

The man giving the bribe didn't represent the family of the girl. He was from someone else... someone who didn't want a certain piece of evidence being discovered. Someone who knew that if the standard times were observed, something overlooked would come to light. Someone who was related to the true culprit, and who was enjoying this opportunity to shame a rival family. Who they were, Aito didn't know. Nor did he especially care.

It was easy to find out, after all. All he had to do was prevent this meeting from taking place. And that would be easy, the judge was running late. Aito had seen to that.

The stranger entered the room on the other side of the wall, and Aito grinned. Perfect ambush. This was how he liked it... a nice, solid piece of stonework that would not be moved or broken up for many generations to come. Nobody who knew his target was supposed to be there. No other witnesses. Rolling his neck, he allowed himself to ghost into the wall.

His power was... hard to describe. It was as if he just reached out and pushed every single molecule out and away, just a little out of alignment, into a place where they wouldn't collide with anything in the world. Then he walked forward as if his feet still had traction, and watched himself sink into the wall. His physical sight went black at once, but his mind's eye could still perceive his journey. Two steps into the darkness, then he was out again, right behind the man with the envelope of money. He re-entered the physical world, drawing a knife. He then did three things very quickly. Seizing the man's hair, he yanked backwards savagely, stomped on the back of his knee, and held the knife before his victim's face, where it could be plainly seen.

The man began to babble. Aito ignored his yammering, allowing him to fully embrace panic and appreciate his position, then cut him off at last. "The money," he growled. "The money, ass. Give me the money, that's all I want."

An envelope was produced in shaking fingers. Clamping the knife in his teeth, Aito grabbed the envelop and stuffed it into his pocket without looking at it. Then he seized the back of the man's belt, and forced both his body and the stranger's into Ghost. This was much harder, and much more tiring. This was always the most dangerous part of his ambush. Stepping backwards, he re-entered the wall, dragging the man with him. Darkness enveloped both of them. The man kicked and struggled, trying to scream into solid stone to no avail. Aito let him, every moment deliberate, remaining fully aware of his body, his timing, and the world in his mind's eye. The moment his victim was fully within the heavy stone wall, Aito let go.

There was a horrible sensation of utter wrongness, and a vibration in the stone that resonated horribly in his ears. Such a sound had never been given a name, and Aito had yet to find a suitable word for it. Molecules were horribly compressed and fused together as laws of nature fought to reassert themselves. When Aito stepped the rest of the way out of the wall and returned to the physical world, he was grinning savagely. It was horrible. It was barbaric.

We live in a fallen world, he thought. Man's sin has created this state. This was not how it was Meant to be.

He shouldn't enjoy the opportunities that the Perversion of Creation gave him quite so much.

"God, forgive me," he muttered aloud. He pulled out the envelope and thumbed through the money nestled inside. They said that the love of money was the root of all evil. Whoever said that was probably right. Aito told himself he didn't do this for money, but these dark deeds of his didn't take up much time. He certainly could have held down a full-time job and never missed a beat.

But it would have been just wasteful to leave that money inside the stone wall. And Aito didn't much care for honest work, it was highly overrated.

The room was bright, flooded by the golden sun as it filtered in through the stain glass window that covered nearly the entire back wall of the office. Aside from the many coloured shards of glass, the image of the Son was imprinted, standing tall, looking down on any who would step foot inside. Upon the walls hung pictures of religious depictions, including Da Vinci’s famous Last Supper, and over the door hung a cross. Between the paintings and various religious ornaments, were bookshelves on both sides, neatly filled with all manner of books. In the centre of the back section stood a large luxurious desk and fine office chair. On the desk stood a large computer screen, a neat stack of papers, writing utensils, keyboard, a large Bible and a golden name plate that read Erik Schröder.

“I am a soldier of the Lord, a warrior in His army. Devotion is my armour, the Gospel shall be my sword, and with it, shall I smite those who wander from His will. Bless me, O Lord, bestow the strength upon me so that I may complete Your work. Let me—,”

There was a loud knock at the door.

“Amen,” the man cut his prayer short.

There was a second knock at the door.

“Enter!” the man called out, interlocking his fingers, placing them before his mouth as he stared at the door with hazel eyes. He was clean-shaven, in good repair, hair neat and tidy, wearing a full suit with a perfect knot at his neck. While relativity young, his face was sharp, his brow strong as stone, he looked several years older than he truly was.

Another man walked in to the room. He too was well groomed, many years older and in a suit. “We’ve found her, Mr. Schröder. She is in our custody now,” he reported, standing in the middle of the room, several feet before the desk.

“What does she know?” the man at the desk showing very little interest one way or the other.

“She hasn’t divulged any information,” the other man seeming a bit uneasy at the admission.

Erik stood from his desk and walked around it. “Take me to her,”

With a nod, the other man led the way, out of the office. Erik locked the door behind them and left it in the hands of the two armed guards standing on either side of the entrance. Following the other man, it was a bit of exercise, a nice brisk walk to the holding chambers. They entered what was akin to an interrogation room one might expect from a police station. A small room with a table and two chairs, all three bolted securely to the floor, and a pane of one-way glass. Standing inside the dark room, looking into the interrogation room, he could see the young woman handcuffed and collared inside.

“It has been approximately fifteen minutes since her injection,” the man informed.

Erik held out his hand, another man handing him a manilla folder, which held information on the woman. His eyes glossed over the paper rather uninterestedly before handing it back. With another hand out, he received a small remote control. Adjusting his jacket and his tie, he walked out of the room, entering the other, all in the previous room keeping a close eye on what would happen.

“Ms. Marconi, I presume?” he said as he entered, sitting opposite the dark featured woman, mid twenties, seemingly good health.

“Yes,” her eyes staring up at him.

“Do you know why you are here?”

“I believe in freedom,” she stated.

“You were caught organising alternative meetings which intend to work against the Church. Several soldiers sent to the meeting place were injured with one killed. We have reason to believe you are also in possession of mutants and/or are one yourself,” Erik spoke calmly and articulately, though hints of his accent bleed through.

“What? Soldiers? Mu—? No! We are not mutants,” she moved forward in the chair, leaning over the table with her arms pinned behind her back. “We simply offer a safe environment, letting the people of this oppressed society be whom they wish,”

“They are no safer than in His hands. Explain then the situation of my men,”

“I-I-don’t know. There were no soldiers!”

“Perhaps this will refresh your memory,” his finger slid up the control, pressing one of the buttons. The woman convulsed uncontrollably in her seat, she twitched and squirmed where she sat until the button was released. Her breathing turned ragged and strained, staring up at the ceiling as she was limp over the arm of the chair. “There is only one way this will end. Give me a name and you’ll live,”

“I don’t know! You must believe me! I don’t know any mutants,” she pleaded.

“So, you do not have any knowledge of mutants?”

“No,”

“Very well,” he said calmly. He put the controller down, putting the woman at ease. He motioned with two fingers towards the window. Moments later two men walked in, one a guard, the other an old priest.

The priest went to work giving the woman her last rites, much to her confusion. Once done, the priest left the room and the guard took the woman out, Erik following not far behind. She was dragged out to another wide open room where she was put on her knees before a large wall. Holding his hand out, the guard gave him a pistol. Erik held it in his hands, taking aim and pulled the trigger before handing it back to the guard. The woman slumped against the wall, her blood and brains splatted onto it. 

“One down, four more to go,” Erik breathed heavily with slight air of boredom and annoyance in his voice. He walked away from the scene accompanied by the other suited man and the guard. “Whose turn was it to get lunch today?” he asked casually as they walked to the next holding room.

Sage was out with his “Friends”. They went to his high school, and he worked with them on a few projects, they like him for some reason, and now they hang out, but Sage was only there to make his cover as a High school student valid. Eventually they found themselves at a pizzeria close to to the Mental institute and ordered a pie, while taking their seats.

He was with three, the only one that really mattered to him was the girl that invited him, Jessie. He chatted her up a few times in school and surprisingly enjoyed her company. He sighed because he knew that because of what he was he would never truly be accepted. He stared outside the window, concentrating on the people walking past. One caught his eye, a boy about his age, running and wearing a shock collar.

Suddenly he turned his head quickly, Jessie was shaking his shoulder

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah” he said voice a bit shaken

From that point on, he listened to the conversation, which was about the ongoing terrorist attack, particularly the most recent one which killed two church officials and some members of a rising crime family, the latter detail being erased in the official report. Evidently not all of the people involved with the church or the police agreed with what they were doing. Little did his friends know, he was the man responsible for the savage bombing.

Sage stood up saying “I have to go, lot of calc homework today” his face was sad and he felt hollow. His friends noticed this, they looked concerned.

He left the pizza shop leaving a five dollar bill on the table. "Keep the change", he said to the cashier as he walked out the door. He began the walk to his apartment, which was a few miles away.

The frequency of his attacks had decreased and he was continuing to question of whether killing corrupt church and government officials and selling drugs and guns to criminals, was a life worth living.

Removed due to Shard being lazy

Tapping short finger nails against the windowsill, a set of black eyes tiredly trailed the shape of an outside world stretching across the landscape, beyond a glass window. It separated him from strife and tribulations of the beyond, caging the young man within white walls, for his own safety, and that of others. "Why'd you do it?" A voice echoed within his mind, "why'd you do it?" another continued, "why?" a third joined in. Whispering in circles, the voices surrounded Aiden in an attempt to dig into a mind they already nestled. "Come on," the voices began, "come on," they inquired, one whisper after the other to steal the answer from his lips. "Tell us," Aiden's personal ghosts had found home within his mind long ago. "Tell us," though it was safe to say that at first, they were anything but malevolent. They got him through the lonely confines of an abused life, "don't you trust us?" The shades proceeded, each word echoing throughout, "trust us," they continued, "trust us."

Ascending to his bare feet, Aiden's arms came to gently embrace his slight frame, as he walked back and forth within his small, confined room. He had taken his medication, though the voices proceeded. They continued freely. Without the medication however, they would take complete control, they would physically appear, and they would interact with the young teenager on a much more intimate level. "Did what?" Aiden finally responded, his quiet whisper of a voice filling the silent air before he laid a tired frame onto his bed.

"Kill them," the voices began, "kill them, why'd you kill them?" They repeated, "kill them, you killed them," they demanded, "killed them, like a withering flower," the last word echoed within Aiden's mind. "Like a withering flower..."

"You were there," Aiden returned, staring up at the ceiling with a blank, tired expression. "You saw it."

"What if they find out?" The voices picked up, their sense of alarm accelerating, "what if? What if they know that little Aiden killed his parents? What if..," they finished, each voice coming to a halt at a knock on the door. Aiden however, remained as he was, resting upon the white sheets of his bed.

Before long, the door opened, and a woman stepped in. Wearing the traditional garments of a nurse, she wore an equally traditional smile upon her lips to soothe an otherwise cold and unforgiving environment. "Good afternoon, Aiden." She greeted, "how are we feeling, today?"

"I'm okay," the teen returned, not moving from his spot.

"Would you like to go out on one of your runs?" The nurse proceeded, taking notes on her clipboard as she spoke.

"Yeah," Aiden offered, sitting up in bed.

"Alright," the nurse nodded, producing a collar to gently attach around Aiden's throat. It was common procedure, a safety net. The collar would show them where Aiden was, at all times. It also indicated when it was time to head back to the hospital, so that he didn't roam outside for too long. At the nurse's leave, Aiden slipped into a pair of shorts, and his jogging shoes before venturing out of the hospital. All of the necessary arrangements had been taken care of, of course. After four years at the hospital, the staff knew Aiden quite well, and they were aware of his routines, and his habits. It had been established that physical activities helped his mental state, and were as such condoned for him. Though he required company at first, it was later decided that Aiden could handle himself outside the hospital walls, and he always returned. Indeed, the teen was recorded as a behaving individual.

With a soft breath, he took the first step, followed by the next and a third which eventually launched him into a full jog, something to clear his mind. Lately, the voices had been ever present. They tried to guilt him for what happened to his parents, while simultaneously attempting to convince him of heinous deeds. They were the devils, and the angels on his shoulders, and they were always willing to pitch in, always willing to offer a new point of view.

"Please! Please don't do this! They'll kill me!" a beaten women shrieked with tears running down her face as two armed men dragged her through the streets. On her right was a young man named Alex who beamed with pride as he kept an iron like grip on his prisoners arm and on the left side was a tall man with scars running up his arms and a few on his face. They were both heavily armed and seemed deaf to the women's pleads for mercy as they dragged her kicking and screaming form towards the entrance of Ravenholm. People who watched this all happen watched with a mixture of fear, disgust and anger. All of their emotions of course where directed towards the women being dragged by the men. Her white dress was torn and stained with crimson blood that wasn't her own and dried blood caked her arms and hands.

"Is that them? The bounty hunting brothers?" a onlooker asked while another nodded with joy.

"Yep and it looks like they bagged another freak for the church. Thank god we have men like this to take care of those monsters," he chuckled. Many spoke to each other in hushed voices as the brothers continued towards the entrance of the city. Alex smirked as he spotted a group of guards and a priest looking fellow waiting at the entrance to the city.

"Looks like it's pay day Frank!" he chuckled with delight. Their prisoner only howled louder for help as she realized her doom was near. Franklin glanced to his younger brother and let a small smile of amusement from Alexs excitement break from his stern face.

"Looks that way, but this time we're not blowing it all on ammo. Last time we barely had enough to eat," Alex gave a sheepish smile as he gave their prisoner a rough tug forward and chuckled.

"Yeah, sorry about that. They were having a sale and I had to get in on it," he stated before looking back towards the waiting party in front of the city. His smile grew as he turned his attention towards them before whispering to his brother. "Show time," Franklin nodded and returned to his professional look as they neared their employers. The priest with several fully armed guards flanking his sides smiled at the brothers and let his arms spread wide to welcome them.

"Children of god, welcome to Ravenholm! I see you were successful with your hunt," he said before giving the crying women a sad look. She did look pitiful as she wept and continued to try and escape her captors, but a smile soon spread onto his face as he knew she would soon be pruged of her evil ways. He looked back to the brothers. "I assume you've gathered enough evidence to support her charges against the church, correct?" Franklin nodded and held a small notebook.

"Yes father, we've recovered her journal that gave great descriptions of human sacrifices and slurs against the church. Her home is even filled with clear evidence as she had recently murdered the three missing children from last weeks report. They're bodies still remain so it may be good to notify the families so they can properly grieve," he finished before the brothers released the women as two guards grabbed her.

"I never killed them! It wasn't me! I swear to all that is holy it wasn't me!" she protested with desperation. The priest shook his head and gave the girl a sad smile.

"I know it wasn't you lost child of god, it was the devil. Do not worry though, we will rip him from you and deliver you pure to god," he promised as he nodded for the guards to take her away. She shook her head and screamed as she was once again pulled away towards her doom. The priest sighed and shook his head as he looked to the brothers. "It's always sad to see one corrupted by the devils evil, but we must thank god he has graced us with the likes of you two," he said and presented Franklin an envelope with their payment. "God bless you two fine soldiers of god," he said as Franklin accepted their payment. Both brothers bowed their head with respect and thanked the priest and the church for their business. The priest nodded and left the two brothers with a smile while a guard came up to the brothers.

"I've been told to inform you that because of your deeds for the church you will be allowed to carry your weapons, but do not cause trouble. You will quickly be detained," he warned before quickly catching up with the priest. Both the brothers smiled and looked to each other.

"Another job well done! Lets celebrate!" Alex cheered as food ran through his mind. Franklin nodded with a chuckle.

"We will, but fist we need a place to stay. Lets go and find a room for the night," Alex seemed a bit upset that they had to wait for their celebration, but he knew his brother was right and nodded his head as the two bounty hunters entered Ravenholm.