"Oh, so any Jesus freak could harm me? Well that's just delightful." I wonder what my church congregation would think if they could hear this conversation? To know that 'pious' old Warwick is a demonic monster? The old man sighs as he gets out of the car, Siti following along with him as he moves to the sturdy rear doors, picking the key the maintenance staff gave him off of the chain from his pocket and sliding it inside the lock, the decrepit mechanism squeaking softly as it unlocks. "No one should be in this building so late. In the event that someone is here, act as though we came here for a romp." He says.
Warwick heads inside, looking and listening with his newly enhanced senses for any hint of a person. If no one is there, he heads back to the car, opening the trunk. He's wrapped the body up tightly in towels, hoisting it up and again marvelling at his strength as he carries it towards the furnace. At her question, Warwick sighs again. "I...I don't know." He admits. "I'd really rather not kill them." Images of blonde hair tussled against pillows, mother and daughter lying together, gazing up at him with desire, flow through his mind. "And not just to reduce my chances of being caught." He admits. "But I don't know. I don't know what I can do. How far I can go. I was able to...persuade McKay earlier and make sure he did what I wanted. But lying to the police? Covering up a murder? Am I capable of making them do that?"