Warren stays quiet for a while. He doesn't want to admit that he has no power over Death, but if here is the only place he can find an answer, he has to be honest.
"What kind of thing?" A nearby girl shifts her backpack and leans forward to look at him, eyes wide. "Is it a medical thing? Or a personal thing? Or a... huh. I can't think of any other kinds."
"The devil," he says not expecting her to understand him. No one can. They can't understand how that thing feel inside of him. The things he makes him think...
"No, um," Well, he doesn't know what to say. Give him numbers and money and he'll make you a million, but DNA is more Hank's thing. "There's thing thing, Death, one of the four horsemen," he looks at her to see if she's following him or if she's about to call to come and get him. "He's inside me. And he wants out."
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"The devil inside me."
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[Yeah, he's not much of a help, but science was never Warren's thing. He tried to explain it as better as he could.]
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