The wisp spoke of greed. It spoke of a void that can never be filled, and upon approaching the shed it may be unclear as to why it would suggest such a thing. True enough, the Wraith that haunts the shed is Frederick Vanderbilt, son of the infamous historical William Vanderbilt... but why would such a creature be haunting such a slapdash shed?
From your right, you hear a scream as one of the few survivors on the island runs screaming from one of the larger and obscenely muscular zombies. She sees you, and races towards you hoping you can rescue her - help her! But despite you trying to wave her off... she runs straight through the strange ground surrounding the shed. She does not make it far.
The ground churns, her legs sinking into the mud. Her screams will echo in your ears, as will the sound of the crunching and gurgling that she makes as the wraith slices her into pieces... and bits of anima seep from the wounds to enter the wraith's essence. The Zombie suffers the same... but at least it does not scream...
Vanderbilt does not go easily. He rises from his nest of gore-covered soil, trails of anima wisping after him as he races towards you. But he is drawn up short, as if he has run into a wall. He circles, faster and faster trying to find some way out of his cage... but you are able to finally subdue him.
Your heart pounds in relief as you see an absurd amount of anima explode from his exorcized shape before he fades...
And then your heart sinks when you see yet another wisp of green hue rise from the remains of the woman's throat, blinking and growing as its voice trembles through your skull...
Always there, never here... Live to love, hate to live.
Feed on passion, always hungry! Ever seeking, never finding..
Wait.. Wait... always too late...
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