Red, rich. Streaming across a black sky, dark creeping in from all corners, an invite to play. To flee from the killer, a stark warning to run before his teeth maim, bite as the blood drips down her neck, warm. It’s wet, she imagines, an alluring mark of beauty, pain. She is desperate to bet on the malice in his eyes, a pledge of love turned dangerous, cold. Her body stops, still. He treads, snarling, eyeing up his prey. Greed. She smiles, a lilting thing, the pure will to feel his teeth sink in and pierce. The deed. A cry, red drops wilting down, a fresh bed for her to lie on, red, rich, dying. Dead.