"Er, Master Moriah?" Hogback called through the door. The shadow master had locked himself in his room, and hadn't come out since breakfast yesterday.

"Go away," Moriah graoned, "don't you have zombies to experiment on?"

"No… Actually." Hogback grumbled, "You forgot to collect some new shadows for me."

"What's wrong with the ones you have now?" Moriah whined.

"I lost the majority of them in an accident…" Hogback trailed off, "Nothing major, and damage control was a piece of cake. But losses totalled to around 100 shadows."

"You're just determined to make me suffer, aren't you?" Moriah seethed, "I'll do it tomorrow, leave me alone."

"But—"

"Check the date, Dr. Hogback," Moriah hissed.

"September 6th— Oh. My apologies, Master Moriah..."

Moriah heard Hogback scurrying back to his lab. The man lost track of time easily in there. In large contrast to Moriah's own demeanour, it wasn't too much of a concern when Hogback didn't leave his workspace for days at a time. Moriah sighed and leaned his forehead against the wall. The cold stone of the castle felt cool to his skin. He turnt his head, and rested his temple on the wall. His vision of the paper on the section of wall beside him blurred, and he felt tears dripping down his face. Gone. Gone. Gone. Moriah closed his eyes.

"DAMN IT!" Moriah screeched, kicking over an iron bucket. He'd been forced to take shelter in an abandoned farmhouse. "All of them," he sobbed, "every last one…"

It had been 3 days since he had lost all of his sub-ordinates in the New World. He was the only one who had managed to escape the massive attack.

"Why?" he cried, staring at his palms. "Was I not strong enough?"

The shadows cast by the candle-light shivered, as Moriah bent them to his control. "Why couldn't I save them?" he screeched, closing his palm into a fist, effectively crushing the candles into clumps of wax. The room went dark. Moriah's light source had vanished, leaving him…

"Powerless," he muttered, sitting on a bale of hay. "Completely powerless."

Visions of his comrades flashed through his mind. His first mate's blood smeared across his face. A gleaming knife sticking out of his navigator's neck. His shipwright's severed arm still attached to the steering wheel. Moriah screamed, and threw himself to the ground.

"Nothing," he chuckled, "all for nothing. All that suffering, all that work, it was for nothing. All those sacrifices, what did they ever do?"

His birthday. It was his birthday today. September 6th. He was supposed to be enjoying cake, and reveling in festivities. Instead- Instead he was here. Nursing his wounds, and grieving.

"I REFUSE TO SUFFER ANYMORE!" he shouted, "THEY-They. They won't suffer either." He smiled. "They won't feel pain. They will not feel sadness. They won't feel grief. Emotionless zombies," he cackled. "Yes. I shall make it so."

When Moriah leaned away from the wall, he found that his tears had darkened the stone. He sniffed and walked backwards, to take in the full view of his mural. Dozens of wanted posters, bounties easily surpassing 100 million, decorated his wall. They depicted famous pirates who none knew better than Moriah, for they had been part of his crew. The paper of the posters were yellowed and peeling from age.

"That's not right," Moriah muttered, straightening out the paper's shadows. The posters rapidly followed suit. "Better," he smiled. He promised himself he wouldn't suffer anymore. He promised that his comrades and sub-ordinates would never suffer anymore. That had been years ago. The second promise had been fulfilled. But no matter how hard he tried to push it from his mind, every year on September 6th, he broke the first.

A.N.: Angst is my life-source. The giant leek needed some of it. Reviews, Favourites, Subscriptions, Reader Birthdays, and Requests are welcomed and much appreciated! I'll see you on the 9th for Basil Hawkins and Madame Shyarly!