Ghost's spectral chains tore into the undead army. Bone shattering as the spirit metal lashed out in a whirlwind of decimation. "Come on you bastards!" The man called Ghost shouted in fury. "You won't take me! Not like you took Goldie!" but he knew he was lying. He had already lost. The ending was already written, he just had to act it out to the bitter end, just like Goldie. His calculating eyes blazed luminescent green as the faster undead dodged beneath his slicing chains. His teeth gritted as their claws slashed through the arm of his thick coat. He grabbed the black daggers from his hips, deflected their slicing attacks and dropped to the ground, rolling away from their razor claws.

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The pale man's dark blades flashing through the air like a windmill in a hurricane cutting through skeletal neck and limbs.

Ghost stood atop the hill of dismembered creatures, spectral green energy crawling across his blades and eyes.

He watched the relentless wave of the undead racing towards him. "You won't take me." he lied.

The ending was already written, he just had to act it out to the final bitter page. As his imminent death came crashing down he remembered where it had all began.

On a beach...

Back when Goldie was still alive...