A/N okay so I did a thing. I started this thing. Okay, sorry for the shitty summary but, these are a few points you might need to know. There will be some implied pairings but, nothing to shippy until near the end. There will be major character death (I mean this is a SNK fanfic, it's not like everyone is going to live is it?). Also, I might try to add in horror and depending on what I decide later on, the rating may change. Okay now you can read.

Dear you,

Do you remember that day? The one when everything changed. We we're just playing around like idiots and had no real idea of the danger we we're putting ourselves in. We we're stupid, so stupid. I mean, we could of listened to those villagers but, we didn't and we had to pay the price. How could we of known? How could we?

I hope you remember how you all were just as scared as I was. You think having to just remember that moment, the pain and fear, is a punishment? It doesn't come close to what I have been through. You thought you knew me, knew what type of person I was but, time changes us all. I'm different now, no longer the same human I was back then. You're different too, living on while I'm here all alone waiting for you to come back for me. I've waited years, ten to be exact and yet, you haven't come back for me, not once! It's sad and lonely but, I'm still alive... technically speaking.

You know what you did, I know what you did and I think the world should know what you did. You did something awful back then and I think it's about time for you to finally pay for what you've done. So, I'll destroy and kill as much as I can until you have to return here and finish what you started. I'll be waiting. Don't take too long.

The man folded the letter up once again, like he did everyday, and stored it within a draw in his desk, remembering to lock it and resumed his work. The letter was frayed at the edges and fairly aged now and needed to be stored. He had done this ritual everyday since the letter had mysteriously appeared on his desk. He had read it again and again and again but, still did not believe the words. What had happened all those years ago was in the past and he desperately wanted to forget it but, he just couldn't. He knew she couldn't either. It hurt to think about their friend's face as their soul was ripped from them and morphed into something dark and sinister. He hoped with all his being that it had been nothing more of a nightmare.

Nightmares don't write letters.

The man stood up, looking over the many papers scattered across his desk briefly wondering what his life had come to. He still had a lot of work to do and would most likely be up late again. His friend would probably bring coffee and sit with him for a while. They were getting more and more reports in lately, more people disappearing or turning up dead. Not many of these incidents fell into his category luckily and he could pass them on to the police. He mainly dealt with ghosts, witches and demons. When something he dealt with did crop up it was never anything big. He was thankful for that but, the amount of reports lately had been worrying.

Nightmares don't make threats.

He quickly dismissed those thoughts and prepared for another daily routine, a visit to a good friend in hospital, another reminder of what had happened that terrible day. The man smoothed the wrinkles in his plain brown suit and began the long walk to the infirmary. Their headquarters was spacious and well furbished but, it was rather empty. Not many people wanted to join a bunch of suicidal ghost hunters.

He smiled fondly remembering something a friend said years ago.

"We're not ghost hunters. What we hunt down is demons. When people realize how much we risk ourselves, those shit eaters will have to give us some form of respect."

That had been one of his moments of weakness. He always felt that what they were doing had been meaningless but, that friend had been adamant that it wasn't. In fact he was the only one who wasn't sure and he had been partly right. One of them was now in a deep coma, one had gone completely crazy and the other, the other was dead.

The man's hands clenched into tight fists and he took several minutes to calm himself. Just thinking about that person made him feel sick and left him feeling a deeply piercing feeling of guilt. He knew it wasn't his fault that it happened but, he did nothing to stop the event from happening, couldn't stop his friend's death.

Nightmares don't scream out for help.

Nobody stared at him any more as he passed them on the corridors, nor did they whisper behind his back. People had gotten used to this now. They all knew where he went but, none of them knew why. He wouldn't tell, they didn't need to know.

He rounded a corner and was soon stood outside the metal doors leading to where his friend rested in a deep coma. He breathed deep, smoothed his suit one last time and carried on the journey. His friend slept in a private space in the far western corner by a large window with only the machines keeping him alive, a small wooden table and a chair. She would usually come too but it seemed that there was a lot of research and experiments to do today. He seated himself in the usual chair and looked over his friend.

The sun was setting, painting the sky colours of orange and yellow. Everything seemed like it had been set alight and it was so beautiful. No matter how corrupt the world would become, the sky would forever be the same. Beautiful, peaceful and so far out of their reach. He turned his gaze to his friend/

His friend seemed so peaceful, sleeping there as if there was not a care in the world. But, he knew there was. He knew there was danger but, people refused to listen, to see, to acknowledge. Demons were all around them, living in the shadows, feasting off humankind's fear and ripping out souls as if they owned every last person on the planet. He vowed he would change this. He didn't want anyone else in the world to feel the pain they had.

Heavy footsteps snapped him from his inner musings just before the door was carelessly flung open. Whoever had the gall to barge in on him and his friend better of had a good reason. The man turned on his seat to look at a panting and panicking soldier. Before he could even tell the young man off, the poor lad had already shocked him into silence.

"Commander Erwin, sir, Shiganshina has been attacked by a Class A demon!"