#killedfifth

[behindslaughter]

     @killedfifth ★ " old man. how does it feel? to grow older and older, rotting away in your mortal shell? ha. you're an unfair man. "

     “Do you truly believe the world would be so kind as to let such a thing happen ; that after it allowed you to die it would grace you with the gift of your killer rotting away?” William cannot help but grin, feeling that cruel twist of satisfaction grow despite the words weaponized against him. A person with even a shred of remorse or humanity would be driven mad slowly by hearing the voices of their victims, but it brings a strange amusement -- almost comfort -- for him.      Yes, parts of him has started to rot away, but he can prevent that alongside the removal of aging. He is immortal, no longer fearing death.

     “Could hardly call this a mortal shell anymore,” his laugh is low, unhinged, “Did you think your pitiful end was just for fun? Yes, you were not one of my intended victims, but oh what a beautiful end you had.” So much remnant to gather for his experiments just from her demise.      “Life isn't fair, little bear, not for those who play by the rules. Thanks to you little darlings, I have my prize. I will live forever.” He loves just how angry this one is, much more vocal than the others. Amusing. . .

[burnt-basement-bunny]

@killedfifth

(Continued from here)

'Living' is a quite fitting choice of words. William - or what's left of his organic body, at least - is alive in a strictly biological sense. It serves also as a reminder: He is not dead. No matter what he might face here, it will always beat the alternative.

William has a strong suspicion as to why Cassidy is here, but he doesn't want to be the one to say it. He steps back as she steps forward. Never did resolve whether a ghost could directly physically harm someone. Not keen on finding out now.

"Your frie-" William's interrupted by his own full-body flinch as his vision is bombarded with images that aren't here. "Right. Yes. He's..." What is he supposed to say? William's had some practice in conversation after nearly a decade without it, but nothing that would have prepared him for an encounter like this. "He's here?"

[burnt-basement-bunny]

she's glaring, stepping out of the darkness to stand in front of him. her arms crossing over her chest as she takes in the sad state this man who was so powerful had now found himself.

" having fun being a decorative halloween prop, old man? " cassidy sneers.

Ice grips whatever's left of William's spine. She's found him. Not like he made it difficult, but he didn't have the opportunity to do so. William's ears pin themselves against the exposed back of his head, an instinctive but useless attempt to protect himself.

But...Cassidy is only talking for the time being. Yet to drag him back there. Mockery is preferable. It's in his best interest to keep this conversation going. "It's...a living. Sometimes it's fun. Um. I...I find it preferable to. Alternatives."

Is that the best he can do? William's usually far more articulate than that. But he's usually not faced with this level of threat.

"Why are you here." The words come out far too desperate to be considered a demand.