Conversations with Dead People - (Post Ultimatum)

"Murderer," the voice, like a rusted pair of scissors, calls, barely a whisper.

Ben stands in the decayed and frozen castle, turning, looking for the voice.

"Murderer...." 

He spins and sees the ashes in the cold hearth stir with the whisper. "You had to pay," he says clearly though he wants to yell.

"Is that what you tell yourself? Does that help you sleep?" The sounds of metal footsteps approach and Ben tries to turn on his powers. Nothing happens.

"Your life for millions, seemed pretty clear to me."

"So noble," the voice hisses in scorn and the footsteps stop. "And such a lie. I saw your eyes when you did it, so cold. I never knew you could be like me."

"I'm nothing like you!" He yells.

"You didn't even do it for those millions. Or yourself did you?"

"You had to pay!" Ben yells though it nearly a plea.

"No," the voice rasps, ignoring his protests, "you did it for him. I'll save a seat for you, Hero...right next to me."

"I'M NOTHING LIKE YOU!" He yells as the hearth bursts into hellfire and the metallic laughter grates against his ears.

Ben starts awake in his room and rubs the cold sweat out of his eyes. The nap didn't seem like such a good idea now.