A deep breath. She was telling him to take a deep breath. Like he was hysterical or something. He wasn't having a problem breathing, he was having a problem with reality and the fact he'd been kidnapped, was shot, and had no idea why or how.
He'd been in a lot of bad situations before. The way he reacted was always consistent: he got scared, anxious, submissive, and then as things began to crash, it flipped. Flipped from avoiding combat to trying to survive. He could feel himself balancing on the edge. The pounding of his heart in his ears, the cold rushing through him. The silver hanging in his eyes.
"Please let me go," he said again, his voice shaking. "I d-d-d-don't know what you want b-but...please."
"Guys," Kratzer said softly from behind the ghosts. It was a single word. Warning. Wary. Not aggressive and not hostile but noticing the frigid air and the fact that his eyes were changing, rapidly. Demons were dangerous. This one especially.
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