I looked behind me, and I refused to believe who I saw.
It was a glowing figure of Sylvester Wheeler. That made no sense. He died a long time ago, but he looks just like he did when I met him as a child.
“Sylvester…Is that you?” I stammered when I saw that famous local author.
“I know you didn’t want to kill them, but there are those under your watch that do.” Sylvester coldly responded with a stern face. “Why aren’t you stopping everything with this pet project of yours?”
My knees felt wobbly and my muscles were felt like they could collapse.
“I can’t. We had something good going.” I said. “It’s just that I didn’t want anyone to expose the things I’m doing to help these citizens.”
Sylvester just nodded before staring at me.
“Thank you for sounding exactly like Valor.” He slowly replied as each syllable felt like a sword driven into my heart.
C. M. B. Bell's Writing Universe 