"We don't want to do that now, do we Mera?" Kirnardaz let loose his full range of images, from the sick, and twisted, to downright grotesque, mixed with a horrible droning noise, with screams of agony and fear mixed in. It was like a horror movie in her head, with all the plain bits cut out. Surgeon demons operating and mutilating people, grotesque demons, whose stomachs were see through, revealing the mass of rotted organs, children on huge pyres, burning in the masses. Men and women experimentally sewn into one being with two heads. Violence, murder, torture.
Every horror imaginable.
"No, we don't. Defteroi, you may leave." His voice was smug, but as he addressed Defteroi, it became cold and unfeeling.
"I have no quarrel with you, yet."