[ Now that Silco had his full attention, Amos' eyes followed that movement with his pocketed arm. No clue what that was about, if it meant he had something in there — valuable, for protection — or what.

But it wouldn't be relevant unless Silco decided to bring it out, and as easy as it was to let his anger lap away at him, Amos was still a bit too drunk to care about what happened that far into the future. Instead he just looked back up, and... yeah, the eye thing was fucking weird.

Whatever. The words that followed were far more important, and Amos felt that curl to his lip again, borne of disgust. ]

I don't even know what the fuck it was. Just heard a voice telling me to do all that shit. It felt like it was everywhere. It made sense at the time.

[ And that was what was so dangerous about it, wasn't it. The way it completely took over his way of thinking.

The rage that came with remembering all of that felt good, actually. ]

I don't know how you kill something like that, but yeah, I want to take it the fuck out.