I stood over the freshly turned earth covering OctopusLegs and TwoKnucklesDeep. I had been back in Chicago for just a few days before the violence had started, driven home by my regrets, the endless slander and attempts on my life and, unfortunately, my resident spectre stalker. I had resolved myself at some point on the journey that I would simply become what I was being accused of being. It would be easier that way. Nobody appreciated the lengths I had been going to, so why keep doing so?

I was enjoying a steak dinner with Curtis, Ghost Anton serving me double helpings of new potatoes and fresh vegetables, when I broke the news to him. Naturally we were alone, no riff-raff present. A commotion at the door as FrankCastle is roughly tossed out into the street for demanding muesli. Quickly forgotten. It was a nice meal, nothing fancy, just the type of fare you expect at the top table. 

"When are you going to do it?" Curtis asked. Or maybe it was Ghost Anton? Maybe I was never having a meal with Curtis? Come to think of it, I might have been at a "How to Promote Misogynistic-Racist Killing Sprees - Consciously and Subconsciously" seminar. That seems more like it.

"Consciously? I believe you. Subsconsciously? I'm not so sure," said the professor, shortly before putting the sensual into non-consensual. I frantically scribbled notes down to make sure I didn't miss any pearls of wisdom. 

"Time for none of you to come home," said an anonymous hitlister.

"SET YOURSELF DISLOYAL!" Cried a dweeb from outside, banging his tiny impotent fists against the restaurant window, desperate to be relevant.

Wait. I'm back at the restaurant? That's right, steak dinner, freshly purged cattle, a beautiful peppercorn sauce drizzled over. Tears of the #main whingers to wash it down. 

"How long are you going to stand here?" Ghost Anton. Graveside. I wondered if he would ever fuck off.

"As long as it takes," said Ghost OctopusLegs, my newest stalker and as equally annoying.

"Chomo," added Ghost WesWatson sagely.

I sighed to myself and my apparition army merely stayed beside me motionless. Had it been the right decision to kill Elodin and Hush? I had protected them and theirs for virtually my entire life. I didn't trust their members and they were reneging on the deal we had struck at outset. Once upon a time I would have found a workaround to try and keep it all going, back before the constant hits, the crying and the accusations. These dummies even try to pin hits on me for people they kill. Times have changed, so now, why bother? Damned if I do, damned if I don't. Easier to just give in to the voices in my head and give the people what they want. It was easier this way.

"What about Defender? He killed me you know," Ghost OctopusLegs said inclining a translucent head towards the graves.

"Just another dead liar," I said with a shrug. At least she hadn't accused me of it, yet. "And anyway, look at how many names he crossed off the purge list for me?"

Ghost Anton laughed. Ghost OctopusLegs frowned. Ghost WesWatson was carted off to Ghost Admin Jail. I stood there for a little bit longer before wondering what to have for dinner.  

"Whatever it is, have it with whiskey," Ghost TwoKnucklesDeep. This was just fucking great.