[Center]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/25b9f4eb-a8b1-46ca-8ab3-88c168ed18b3.png[/img]

Joel Beck 
[b]Location[/b]: Doing the absolute least to prove his sanity in a mattress store
[b]Tags[/b]: Jack [/center]

Wraith had found a discarded rag among the boxes and crates inside the warehouse. He was using it to wipe the blood off his suit when an all too familiar voice greeted him. Wraith turned to face the new arrival, his mask expressionless. 

"Jack." He said curtly. "I thought you said you never wanted to see me again after last time." He tossed the soaked rag on the ground and turned away to find a new victim to shake down. His eyes landed on the silvery, floating form of one of his recently dispatched victims. It seemed this particular goon had hit his head a little too hard on his fall. Or, at least, that's what the pool of blood his face was laying in suggested.

"[i]Oh fuck[/i]," The man said in a panicked voice, "[i]Am I dead? You fucking killed me?!"[/i]

"You're a low level thug working for a crime lord, you weren't exactly shelf stable to begin with."

[i]"I'll kill your ass!"[/i] The ghost flew at him, then through him. Wraith didn't seem impressed. 

"No. But you [i]are[/i] going to tell me what you know about your boss." 

[i]"Go to hell!" [/i]

"Interesting choice of words." Wraith pulled what looked like an old burner phone out of his pocket and went to the speed dial list. There was only one number. The line was picked up immediately. "Hey Reap. I got one for you. Said something about wanting to go to hell? Yeah he's still here."

[i]"The reaper has a cell phone? Who the hell is his provider?" [/i]

In mere seconds, a void opened beside Wraith and a ghastly form stepped through. The ghost goon went paler and scrambled back before being frozen in place by the Reaper's hold. 

[i]"OHSHITOHFUCKOKAYOKAYOKAY! I'LL TELL YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT, JUST GET THIS THING AWAY FROM ME!" [/i]

The reaper turned his black, empty hood towards Wraith, who shrugged. He released the spirit and vanished once more. "Alright," Wraith crossed his arms, "Time to start talking." 

[i]"She's in a supply closet downstairs! We didn't touch her, I swear!"
[/i]

"She?" 

Meanwhile, to an outside viewer, Wraith had been talking to empty air the entire time. Was any of this even happening? Honestly, he'd stopped questioning it a long time ago.