“You don’t expect me to do this, do you?” Tears threatened at the corner of Pierre’s eyes as the memory of his loss returned to him. His superior’s audacity only spurred his anger, the last fortification against his grief. He looked down in disbelief at the assignment he had been given.
“We’ve known for quite some time that you have been visiting her Pierre. You’ve become enslaved by the very revenant we fight to expel. She is but a pale shadow of your wife, you must see this. You must let her go.”
“I can’t lose her, not again.” His anger faltered, his superior’s words were too infallible to refute. He had to let her go, and the only way to do it would be to Reave her ghost.
“By allowing her to haunt, you dishonor her memory and condemn her to Purgatory. Help her find her way to peace Pierre. I know you can.”
His resolve broke, the tears began to fall like the soldiers of his anger, tossed from the ramparts to meet their death, the final bastion overrun by the warriors of his grief. His superior wrapped her motherly arms around him and spoke into his ear. “You couldn’t be there for her when she died Pierre. As a Reaver, you can help guide her soul to its resting place and bring closure to the wound in your heart. This is your second chance.”
What she said was true. It did not however, stop the tears.
