Cries echoed through the hallway, seemingly originating from the room at the end. Cries, screams, whimpering, whailing, all could be heard from the accursed room. Anyone outside the building could hear the cries of the lost soul emanate from inside, yet none was brave enough to enter. Some feared that it was a banshee, others thought of a ghost. Superstition, all of it. For what really resided in that building, was a man with a brown trenchcoat, mourning his lost friend while curled up in a fetal position.
Nothing mattered to him anymore. His life-long companion was gone. He had seen it in the hands of an officer while sneaking out to search for the backpack. Devastated, he walked away, while he slowly turned the walk into a run. Tears had went down his face as he eventually stopped infront of an abandoned building, ignoring the pain from his bones, the aching from his heart, the wheezing from his lungs. Drakk had entered the bulding, ran up to the highest floor, went down a large corridor, opened the door at the end, and simply collapsed in the middle of the room, beginning the exhaustion of his tears. He ignored the pain, he didn't care about taking a pill, the only thing he cared about, was the loss of a friend.