He'd heard the container get opened, caught the slightest edge of the mouse's scurrying, its pitchy voice on the edge of hearing - and then as Norman keeps talking, he hears it stop.
And he feels a vicious, disgusted hatred flow through him like poison.
He doesn't flinch, when the mouse is moved into his hand, but he's gentle with the poor thing. It didn't deserve that.
"If you're trying to prove you can simply kill us, you're hardly original, nor unique. So can a car, so can a gun. So can a particularly dedicated dog," he spits out, aiming to get a rise. But his his voice remains level and cold. "I've faced far worse than a doctor with trumped up ideas of status, so tell me. Why haven't you? What do we offer that's better alive and mindless than dead and out of your hair?"
cw: dead mouse
And he feels a vicious, disgusted hatred flow through him like poison.
He doesn't flinch, when the mouse is moved into his hand, but he's gentle with the poor thing. It didn't deserve that.
"If you're trying to prove you can simply kill us, you're hardly original, nor unique. So can a car, so can a gun. So can a particularly dedicated dog," he spits out, aiming to get a rise. But his his voice remains level and cold. "I've faced far worse than a doctor with trumped up ideas of status, so tell me. Why haven't you? What do we offer that's better alive and mindless than dead and out of your hair?"