Wait – something doesn’t add up…

In the back of your mind, something jars, like a gear sticking.

‘Wait,’ you **** out, eyes flicking down to his gleaming, curved blade. ‘I don’t get it. Why work for a psycho? What do you get out of it?’

****-Soo snorts contemptuously. ‘I like it, you fucking moron. I get paid to hurt people. It’s what I’m good at. And the perks are decent.’ A strange smirk flickers across his face. ‘Free vacations, cars, dental… he even pays my medical bills. Best job I ever had.’

And just like that, the final piece of the puzzle falls into place.

‘He pays your medical bills,’ you echo. ‘Expensive, are they? Any long-term conditions?’

The smile vanishes from ****-Soo’s face.

‘That’s why you’re still using a knife, isn’t it?’ You jerk your head at ****-Soo’s blade. ‘All that crap about an experimental virus – it was bullshit, right? That’s why you don’t care about cutting me. You don’t give a shit if I’m bleeding, because it was just a vial of your blood… and you already have HIV. Don’t you?’

****-Soo’s face is contorted with rage. Then he takes a breath, visibly controlling it.

‘Clever little bastard, aren’t you?’ he breathes. The knife glitters in the darkness. ‘Not that it’s gonna help you now. I’m going to take my time over this one, and you’re gonna wish I’d killed you the fucking first time around.’

‘Justin won’t be happy,’ you say, knowing it’ll piss him off, hoping the rage will cloud his judgment. But ****-Soo just smiles.

‘Fuck Justin,’ he says unexpectedly. ‘Fuck all you rich kids. He should’ve known.’

Then his fist blurs up in a flash of silver, moonlight glinting off the serrated edge of his blade, and you both move at once.