[Michael doesn't begrudge Seel his drink. Honestly, if he didn't think it was a seriously bad idea to give up any amount of self-control right now, he'd probably be drinking himself. He's sure he'll get up to plenty of it afterward, assuming they go through with this whole thing.

More importantly, Seel doesn't think he's nuts. Either that or he's just very good at playing along, but perhaps naively, Michael is going to give him the benefit of the doubt.]

It's like possession, or something, but it doesn't control me. It's just really vocal about what it wants, which so far has been, well, murderers. Like I said, taste for killers.

Anyway, we pick a target first. [Enjoy that totally-not-creepy shift to a plural pronoun. And that no-longer-implied murder.] And then it's like, I don't know, some kind of sixth sense. It always knows where the target is, so long as we're close enough, but the range seems to be pretty far.

If you're asking me how it eats, well. That part's kind of literal.