"Do you believe in souls?" Guns makes no effort to silence the third man's screaming. It is bound to attract attention sooner or later. "Do you think one human soul -- or body, for that matter -- is worth more than another?" Laughing outright, Guns digs his fingers in a little deeper. "No, no." The two survivors flee, shouting and flailing as well.
"Their minds are worth something, from time to time." The man has temporarily overcome pain to scream, "What are you?!"
"Then again, if everything is about the end result, nothing has changed. Same thing, different methods." He looks over his shoulder at Fetish, and notes cheerfully, "I can almost touch his brain."
Biting his lip to keep from laughing, he says, "You must think he's special." Guns slowly withdraws his fingers to hold the man steadily by the throat, not choking him but holding him still, and without something to stem the flow, blood pours freely from the holes in the man's face. It is improbable that he will live. "Maybe for you," murmurs Guns. "But I--" He stops, and stares at her. With his arms free, the thief claws helplessly at the hand at his throat.
"Well, what do you think?"
In the distance, there is the patriotic swirl of police sirens.