Carter gritted his teeth, allowing himself to be moved. However, he didn’t like what the other voice had to say. He also didn’t like how loud it was. He moved back, standing but keeping the man pinned, this time with one foot on his chest and the knife at the base of his neck. “I don’t like that option.” He muttered. “I don’t like you being here. I don’t trust the fact that you’re here at all. Right now, I’m the god of your world. I’ll decide whether you get up or not. And I just want to know one thing: What the hell are you really here for?”

He kept his hand tight around the handle of his knife, making sure that if the one below him even dared move offensively, he could retaliate immediately. Others certainly placed him at such low standards considering his appearance and occupation. Sometimes he loved that. “Your sight must be massively altered, like my hearing, right? It’s sensitive, powerful, nearly to the point of being unbearable, right? That’s how you can see me. That’s how I could hear you.” He narrowed his eyes. In this dark, he couldn’t make out much more than the outline of the man below his buckled shoe.