"Who the fuck do you think you are? I told you." Heine's grip tightens on his shirt. "I told you."

Laughing resounds inside his head. Heine gets up close enough to smell him. For a moment he just stares into his professor's face, seeking—something. Regret or something that will stop him.

But there's nothing that he can recognize. Heine's hand closes over his throat, hard. With a sudden force he pulls Eichel by the neck forward, then back, slamming his head against the wall, again and again.