Somewhere in the depths of a deep black room there was a a movement where none should be. A finger twitched, then a vivid teal blue eye snapped open.
"What the bloody hell?!" Victor sat up angrily. "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?! I'M SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD. IS THIS WHAT YOU CALL DEAD, RALPH?! IS IT?!" He raged, slamming his hand through a nearby table and--wait, through? That wasn't right. Where was the satisfying WHAM accompanied by the righteous sting? Victor tried it again, this time waving his arm through the table.
"Oh, this is brilliant! Now I'm a bleeding ghost!" He looked down at himself "And what the fuck am I wearing?" He was dressed in what appeared to be white linen pants and a loose white shirt covered by a white vest. "Oh swell!" He spat. "Now I'm a ghost with horrible fashion sense! Just great. You really effed everything up, you git." He addressed this last comment to Ralph, who couldn't defend himself at the moment, being not there.
A feeling of loneliness welled up inside him; what happened to everyone before he decided to off himself?
"I'm such a coward." The ghost hugged his legs close to him and covered his face with a hand.
Somewhere in the dark an owl hooted. Getting up, Victor made up his mind to look for the group. "I wonder if they'll even be able to see me." Then he snorted "Not that they'll remember! You erased their memories for a good reason, Victor." This was what he did sometimes; talk to himself.

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Ralph calmed down, he was tired of this cat and mouse game. Leon had evaded Incendio's fiery grasp for too long.
"Maybe it's time to get serious."

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Well, I'm back. . .somewhat. xD