what happens next

The only response from the darkness below his feet was a low growl. Enrico sighed, though honestly he'd known that it had been about equal probability between that and curses hurled in his face. He didn't expect anything else. "Don't be like that, Scarlatti," he said with forced lightness. "You know I am going to let you out eventually. You'll have your chance to try to kill me then. What harm is there, then, in alleviating the boredom through civil conversation?" He tilted his head to the side, peering through the gloom as well as he could. "I am sure if you put your mind to it you could manage a more intelligent discourse this time than 'fuck you' hm?"