He watched Omar slump over with cold, curious eyes.
Hypoxia would set in, and pretty soon he'd start convulsing. If you're ever being suffocated? Try playing dead. It's hard, when the body is in a red alert, but someone not familiar with the process might just ease up. He was familiar, and knew he had plenty of time. Whole minutes, yo. You can change change the world in minutes. True story. He'd changed Omar's world.
A toe eased the gun out to himself, and he release the boobytraps on the weapons as he retrieved the pistol and laid it on the table out of Omar's reach.
Highly Effective Individuals go by the numbers. Number two? Omar's phone. He fired off a text to the sender of the picture of Nous.
Got us a new brother. Let the girl go but tell her Omar think she got a pretty mouth if she ever want to get with a real man.
The phone went next to the gun. Eyes alternated between the door and Omar's quavering body as he fished his deck of cards out. You know the card. Six of clubs. Like a sheet of titanium. Sleeves, rolled.
"I'm your angel, Omar," he said softly. Barely a whisper. Could Omar hear him? Dying, unconscious? Maybe. Maybe not.
"You've spent all your time waiting for that second chance... for a break that would make it okay. It's gonna be okay. This is your second chance."
Long fingers reached out, grasping Omar's hair and pulled his head up.
flick
The card sliced the jugular open, spraying blood in crimson benediction. He slowly walked in a circle around the sacrifice, twisting the head and spraying the blood all over the room, pulling Mana from the act.
"The sacrifice, Omar. It's the greatest love. I'm going to show you how to love. With this essence, we're going to do great things, you and I."
He wiped the bloody card clean on the corpse's hair.
"You know, some of my friends call me Cut."