Screams echoed in his head. Screams from battles past, and not so past. Screams of the innocent as well as the guilty, of those he had killed and of those that he had simply stood aside and let die. Voices that lingered, reverberating inside his head, rising and falling with the rush of blood through his veins. They were as much a part of him as his own heart beat.
Dale pressed one slender hand to the side of his head, as if willing the voices to silence by sheer force alone. And when he opened his eyes, they were fathomless black.
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