The woman slumped down upon me, I was vaguely aware of the heat of her body pressed against me…but it was the look in her eyes that caught me. I was still struggling to breathe properly when she brought the syringe out from her jacket. My eyes wild and I struggled as much as I could, but my body was still cramping from her kicks. Her hand on my skin, so warm and strong as she held me down…my panic rising as the scratch of the needle entered me and I felt her drawing my blood. I was as still as I could be but couldn’t force my mind from struggling…and wondered at the meaning of her words. The ease she handled the syringe and needle spoke of someone with medical background…perhaps a doctor...but, she had a manic look no doctor I had ever seen held.

She removed the needle and held it between us, my eyes wide and desperate. A splash of blood dripped upon my cheek and her breath caught as she stared down at me. A glaze seemed to drift across her otherwise powerful eyes. My hand had come to rest on a glass shard which I now grasped tightly.

Feeling it slice into my fingers as I held it so tightly…but this was my moment and I lunged up, the syringe spilled from her fingers and dropped to the floor as I brought my hand up in a quick swing. She yelped as I drew the shard down hard into her right breast. I realized it hadn’t punctured very deeply; her thick coat seemed to take out most of the impact. But she was off me and I rolled her away, her hand went out and clasped my top, ripping the material away from my breasts exposing me. I swung my foot at her head but she threw her hands out and caught my foot, twisting me over and smacking me down again. What kind of doctor knew these moves?

I scrabbled at the ground, pain aching throughout my body but she was upon me once more…this time her whole weight pressing down upon my exhausted body. Her eyes were a fiery red as she pulled her coat from her body, revealing the blood that seeped from her breast. She looked from it to me again and again…and I knew I could do no more to resist her properly. Her fingers went to her wound...and I shivered at the smile that lifted her lips.