My heart slammed inside my chest as I fought him. My fear became anger; I knew I would die before I’d let him violate me. I squirmed beneath him and bucked violently, nearly knocking him off. He retaliated by driving his weight harder against me and shoving his knee into my belly. Vomit rose in my throat.
Cold pain pierced my neck, and I drew in a strangled gasp as I realized he must have a knife. Wet warmth slid across my throat. He pressed his face against me and locked his mouth over the source of my pain.
Warmth spread through me and grew into the heat of need. I found myself pushing into him as my fear dissolved. My heart slowed and matched each pull as he drew the very life out of me. Pounding. Pounding. Pounding. It was ecstasy, and I wanted it to go on forever. Then the sound of my heart grew faint, and he pulled away from me.
He lifted his head and turned to look at me. Blood colored his lips like the grease paint smile of a clown, and ran in a jagged line from the corner of his mouth to the tip of his chin where it hung in a small, clotted drip. He smiled. The sight of the small, sharp fangs shocked me back into fear. THIS IS DEATH.
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