A wicked grin played across Tristan's face as he looked down at Trevor. His voice rang out, steady and resolute, in the silent alleyway.
"If you don't understand my words, Trevor, it's not my problem. I won't repeat myself, I've got no patience for that." Tristan's gaze bore into Trevor, his pupils dilating, the glint of bloodlust clear in his eyes. "Depending on my mood, you'll experience the most suiting method I can think of on such short notice."
Trevor's body trembled, and a chill ran down his spine. He could see the brutal intent, the certainty in Tristan's eyes. This was no idle threat, he was serious. Panic welled up in him, as if a tsunami wave was crashing over his sanity. 'I'm screwed!'
"Pity, you could have had a say in your own end." He made sure his words were spoken slowly and deliberately, giving Trevor a chance to process each syllable.
