"Now," Kurt whispered in a low, gravelly caress that made the cultist's skin crawl. "We can do this the hard way, or we can do it the really hard way. Personally? I'm rooting for the latter."
He reached down, grabbed the man by the front of his loosened robes, and hauled him toward the center of the room. The white marble statue of the Goddess loomed over them, her serene, carved face appearing to judge the scene with a cold indifference. In a sudden, explosive motion, Kurt slammed the back of the cultist's head against the Goddess's marble pedestal.
CRACK!
The sound of bone meeting stone was sickeningly clean. The cultist shrieked, kicking his legs uselessly against the floor.
"Oopsy daisy, haha. Gotta control my strength so that you don't die too early. Now, where is the bishop?" Kurt asked, his face inches from the man's. He had a small, crooked smile on his lips. A look of genuine, boyish excitement.
"And more importantly, where are the children?"
