"I know."

Gabriel didn't have a whole lot of dead loved ones, or at least, not a whole lot who stuck out. There were, however, rather a lot of people whose deaths he'd caused. It had been disturbing at first, having them haunt him, but for the most part, he stood by his decisions. They'd deserved it, even the ones who insisted they didn't. Even the ones who'd died just because he didn't like them. He didn't regret it -- only, given that the attitude of the ghosts was (unknown to him) determined by the hauntee's own feelings about their deaths, perhaps that wasn't the entire truth.

"Pretty disappointing, huh? I was hoping for some interesting ones. Shakespeare, Marie Antoinette, Marilyn Monroe... but alas, no, mine have been pedestrian at best. So far, anyway." He glanced down the hallway; he couldn't say that he was particularly perturbed by the projections, since they seemed incapable of hurting anyone, but he couldn't help being curious about what (or rather whom) other people were seeing. "How about you? Any good 'uns?"