The blade hovered dangerously close to Hale's skin—too close for any sudden moves. His calm demeanor evaporated like mist under the sharp edge of the knife.
In the face of danger, the cult leader was no better than a man who would bleed just like anyone else.
Kant's eyes moved to the ghost, who had distanced himself from the field of action.
Uncertainty was painted over Gabriel's features, his nervous energy practically radiating through the room. The blue gaze flickered between the cult leader and Kant, his eyebrows tightening.
It made sense Gabriel would be scared. This job wasn't selling cotton candy, nor was it a joyride. Still, the awareness that Gabriel was watching all of this made Kant cringe inside.
His grip on Victor Hale tightened as he led the cult leader toward the door. He could hear the faint shouts of guards in the hallway, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on.
Just as his hand reached for the door, it swung open, and Hunter stepped in, his chest heaving, his clothes stretched and crumpled from the scuffle with the guards.
Hunter's eyes scanned the room, flicking from Kant to Hale, who was still alive and trembling. His brow furrowed, and a dark frown crossed his face.
"Are you going to take all day?" Hunter hissed, stepping closer. "What's the hold up?"
Kant took a step back, yanking Hale along. The cult leader didn't speak, but his eyes, wide and strangely calm, stared into Kant. Eerie and unsettling, that's what it was.
Hunter's eyes blazed with impatience, his lips curling in frustration. "We don't have time for this!"
"It's not too late to change everything, child," Hale tried to reason with Kant. "Do not waste your life on darkness. If you look deep into your soul, is this truly the way you wish to live?"
Kant's fingers twitched, then tightened around the knife until the cold handle was digging into his skin.
Victor Hale was worthy of being called a cult leader, alright. The man sounded like salvation itself, like everything wrong could be made right if Kant just let him live.
Gabriel's voice cut through the fog in his mind, low and uncertain. "Kant... what if this isn't the way? Maybe we should look for another way..."
Doubt.
Kant's resolve faltered, just for a second. But they didn't have the luxury of doubt, did they?
His heart pounded in his chest, and the blade hovered at Hale's throat, barely a hair away from breaking skin.
Gabriel's chance—his only chance—at being brought back to life rested on this.
If they didn't follow through with the plan, the chances they found someone else to kill were low. Unless Kant gave up his own life. It would be only fair, wouldn't it?
As if reading his mind, the ghost's gaze hardened. His eyes shifted towards the large, ornate candelabrum. With a determined huff, he strode over to it and gave the candelabrum a good shove, sending it crashing to the floor in a mess of flames and shattered glass.
Everyone's heads whipped towards the commotion. The woman, who had been staying back quiet as a mouse, darted forward to control the fire with an exclaim, "Fire! Help me stop it!"
"What the..." Hunter watched her struggle to contain the flames while trying to understand how it happened.
The flames devoured the curtains, sending a wave of blistering heat over them. Hunter cursed and instinctively pulled the woman aside.
Kant took the moment of distraction to make a run for it. Half-pushing, half-dragging the cult leader through the door, they burst out into the chilly hallway.
The air was fresh in comparison to the smoked office.
The guards charged at him, but their steps faltered as soon as they saw the knife to their leader's throat.
"One step closer and he dies!" Kant yelled a warning.
Hunter wasn't far behind. "Put your guns down! Now!" he barked at the guards, his voice like a whip crack. He grabbed one of the rifles and turned back to Kant, his jaw clenched tight.
"What the hell are you waiting for? This job's been messy enough, don't make it worse." Hunter's finger hovered over the trigger like a silent threat.
And a threat it was. The moment they were outside, Hunter cocked the gun and aimed at Hale's head.
Kant's eyes widened as he pulled the cult leader out of the way. The bullet whizzed by, barely missing them.
Gabriel jumped like a cat that stepped in water, and a nearby flock of crows scattered, dispersing into the gray sky. The ghost covered his ears, stepping back as the flaps of wings anxiously retreated.
An expression of utter shock took over Hale's face as he glanced back and forth between Hunter and Kant.
"The heavens will not condone—What—what are you doing?!" Hale sputtered as Hunter cocked the gun the second time.
"My point exactly. The fuck are you doing?" Hunter snapped at Kant. "Having another one of your crazy episodes? Move!"
Kant's hold on the cult leader tightened as he looked for ways to outsmart Hunter.
After failing at persuading Kant, Hale tried to work his magic on Hunter, but the latter was the type to shoot a tooth fairy for breaking into his house. It was meaningless.
Taking a step closer, Hunter's eyes narrowed. "I don't know what you're playing at, but you better quit it."
"Or what? Gonna step over my corpse to finish the job?" Kant retorted, dragging the cult leader towards the forest. He was counting on Gabriel to catch Hunter off guard with another distraction.
All they had to do was make it to the river. Past the woods. Into the car. It was easy enough.
"Last chance." Hunter's frustration was growing, his finger itching to pull the trigger again, yet a strange reluctance flickered in his gaze. "Step aside."