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2001-10-04 19:29:35 (UTC)

Speak XIX

The daylight had finally faded. Milky blue. Now she could
leave. Everyone said goodbye, see you next time, about
time silently.

He had been waiting for her. Terror caught in the back of
her throat. Never tasted. Milk blue sliding off her skin.

A regression to mathematics. Logic and productivity. A
loved taste. She could feel murder surge through her
face. She turned her head.

"You need to leave."

He raised an eyebrow. He knew why.

"Come on," he said and led her by the arm to his apartment.

Inside, red candlelight glazed ceiling, streaking the walls
and dripping in puddles on the floor. Candlelight.

Her eyes darted to the finished machine. Spinning humming
quiet by itself. FLash. He stopped her with his knife,
her strong small hands on his throat, just critically above
his trachea.

"Give up."

She looked at him. "I have nothing to give.

He grabbed her. And shook her. Hard. "Do it!"

She licked her lips mocking sensual.

He shoved her onto the floor. His eyes flaming. He held
the knife to her throat, his other arm on the side of her
face. A drop of blood slid down her skin. streaking red
tear. Crying throat. Suddenly the room was black.

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