[ He seems to be looking for something, though it's hard to tell what exactly until he finds it - or rather, who.

He turns a corner, and a man leaps from a doorway still billowing smoke with an enraged, frantic shout. Ekkehardt steps aside to let him crash onto the floor, and then kneels to gently apply pressure to the small of his back as he tries to get up. ]

And here I'd thought you'd died from smoke inhalation. Imagine my surprise. [ His tone is downright friendly. ]
Were you not happy with my gift? I thought it was decent payment for the way you tortured and butchered me.

[ He applies more pressure. The man coughs and splutters fearfully, clearly struggling to breathe. ] But I'm not you, so I'll give you a clean death. It's not what you deserve, but it's not exactly fair that I'd get to enact what you deserve when all your previous victims didn't get that privilege.

[ The knife flashes, once, and the struggling stops. Ekkehardt stares down at the body impassively for a moment before he picks it up and proceeds down the hallway with it in tow. What he intends to do with it is unknown, as of yet. ]