Ghost of the warehouse

The warehouse lights flickered, casting long, shapeless shadows that danced across the crates stacked aimlessly around Dante. He squinted, willing his vision to clear. For a moment, he could have sworn... no, it couldn't be.

A scoff escaped his lips, sharp and humorless. Hallucinations. That's what years of staring at these dusty walls did to a man.  But the figure remained, emerging from the gloom, and with each step, dread tightened its icy grip around Dante's heart.

Liam Harrison.

The name ripped through Dante, a shard of forgotten memories lodged deep within. Memories he thought he'd buried along with any sliver of hope he'd once held. How long had it been? Ten years? More? The years blurred together in a haze of disappointment and betrayal.