[Those words weren't unlike anything Vincent had said before, but he seemed so far removed from himself that another thought occurred to Kit.
Perhaps their souls weren't the sought after prize so much as their bodies? By prying the essence out of the host, a perfect container would be left behind. A vessel for...the people in those visions, maybe. Or some other sort of demonic force or spiritual being.
Recklessly taunting the power behind these attacks only opened them up to further assault. Perhaps even prepared them for possession.
It was a chilling thing to consider, but it was also that thought that returned some of Kit's own nerve to him. Despite his exhaustion, he remained steadfast. Despite the agonizing state of his body, he remained strong. It was one thing to fight a man head on, nobly and with everything you had, but another to cowardly suck out the very marrow of his being and transform him into something he was not before he even had a fighting chance. Such a thing was unforgivable.]
No one is going to die today.
[When he was certain Vincent could sit on his own again, Kit swiftly pulled away and began to tidy up their mess. The pen and ofuda were tucked neatly into the notebook and thrust against Vincent's chest to give him something else to think about, and the ashes on the floor were swept into a pile and then scooped into his hands. Against the open blisters of his palm it stung, but Kit rose to his feet and carried the little pile to the trash to dispose of it anyway. Any remaining traces left on the floor when he returned were smeared away with the sole of his shoe. It was almost like they'd never been here. Apart from the faint smell of charred paper in the air.
Now that he thought about it, they'd been fortunate in that the smoke hadn't set off any alarms...]
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Perhaps their souls weren't the sought after prize so much as their bodies? By prying the essence out of the host, a perfect container would be left behind. A vessel for...the people in those visions, maybe. Or some other sort of demonic force or spiritual being.
Recklessly taunting the power behind these attacks only opened them up to further assault. Perhaps even prepared them for possession.
It was a chilling thing to consider, but it was also that thought that returned some of Kit's own nerve to him. Despite his exhaustion, he remained steadfast. Despite the agonizing state of his body, he remained strong. It was one thing to fight a man head on, nobly and with everything you had, but another to cowardly suck out the very marrow of his being and transform him into something he was not before he even had a fighting chance. Such a thing was unforgivable.]
No one is going to die today.
[When he was certain Vincent could sit on his own again, Kit swiftly pulled away and began to tidy up their mess. The pen and ofuda were tucked neatly into the notebook and thrust against Vincent's chest to give him something else to think about, and the ashes on the floor were swept into a pile and then scooped into his hands. Against the open blisters of his palm it stung, but Kit rose to his feet and carried the little pile to the trash to dispose of it anyway. Any remaining traces left on the floor when he returned were smeared away with the sole of his shoe. It was almost like they'd never been here. Apart from the faint smell of charred paper in the air.
Now that he thought about it, they'd been fortunate in that the smoke hadn't set off any alarms...]
I'm going to find the bathroom. I'll be back.