I've heard the old ones are the hardest to break. An arm twist, a combat boot against the skull, a .45 jabbed into the mouth, nothing works. When they start talking with ancestors faint as camphor smoke in pagodas, you know you'll have to kill them to get an answer.
Sunlight throws scythes against the afternoon.
I remember how one day I almost bowed to such figures walking toward me, under a corporal's ironclad stare. I can't say why.