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“I-I... uh... d-don’t...”

‘Hector, c’mon. Scare them. Just yell or something.’

‘Yell? I can’t... I don’t... that just isn’t--agh...’

Ponytail ran for the door.

Hector was on him in a heartbeat and kneed him back into the corner. “Please don’t run...”

‘Wait a minute,’ said Garovel. ‘Okay, no yelling. Just talk to them very quietly. Whisper, if you need to.’

‘Really? B-but, uh...’

‘Trust me. Speak very slowly and deliberately. Make them strain to hear you. Oh, and be polite, too. Say please, like just now.’

‘Uh...’ “Please tell your boss... that I’m coming for him...”

‘Oh, that was good! Tell them that anyone else who gets in your way will be visiting the morgue.’

‘But I don’t want to kill them...’

‘Of course, but THEY don’t need to know that.’

‘Ah, okay...’ “And anyone who gets in my way... will be paying a visit to the morgue...”

Both of their faces went white.

‘Aha, look at them! This is way better than yelling.’

‘You’re starting to creep me out, Garovel...’

‘Me? You just about made them piss themselves with creepiness.’

He left the room, barely squeezing all the bags through the door. He knew there were still more men in the building, but he didn’t see them before hearing the gunshot. The bullet tore through his jaw and ripped the mask from his face. His severed chin and tongue splattered to the floor in a gory mess.