The guardian continues her scarily sexy advance towards you, the sharp sheen of metal still glinting menacingly from its hiding spot. Her eyes are half closed and her mouth is pressed into a dangerous and seductive smile. The soft click of her heels vibrate through the air like a radar ping saying danger.
Her previous question hangs in the air with an almost threatening tone, the atmosphere feeling cramped and deadly.
Your eyes dart carefully around the room, trying to map an escape route through the minefield of pointed spikes that has already claimed your life once and forced you to relive it in reverse and in slow-mo. The angry sound of her breathing breaks your slight concentration, "poor baby...You're not trying to run...are you?" Her head tilts dangerously to the side the air thickening with lethal intent as the metallic object behind her back twitches threateningly. "N n n no I I'm g good. N no I I mean I I I'm n n not trying to to to ru ru run," you stutter unconvincingly, body beginning to back up subconsciously trying to distance yourself from the presence in front of you as if she were a plague.
She sways slightly as she moves forwards, hunched predatorially, "Really?" She asks voice filled with reasonable doubt, clearly unconvinced and angry. Her eyes flicker dangerously, blue irises flashing with both anger and need. The obsession is thick in the air, her hand clasping and unclasping as she continues stalking toward you with the intensity of a starved predatory.
The hand behind her back drops to her side, the metallic object glinting in the artificial light of the lantern, the angle of her body causing the blade to glint while casting shadows over the rest of her body, the intimidation of the towering woman with the knife is unreal.
"Why aren't you telling the truth? You know I hate liars." She says, her tone dripping contempt and radiates lethal intent with every wave of sound ejected from her pretty lips. "I uh..." You can't find the answer, there isn't one, other than you being scared of her and you have a feeling you'll taste steel again if you say that. The fear immobilizes your tongue unpleasantly, The thick flab of meat useless in your mouth as your brain fogs up and words fail you. The terror this sexy nurse evokes from you is unnatural and intimidating in the worst way.
"Come on baby, it won't hurt," she says, head turning even further in an unnatural and scary way, the uncontrollability of the situation makes you feel small and even more scared.
She raise the knife, "Nap time, you can sleep if you aren't ready," she says as her smile continues to widen. Her lips stretching unnaturally, the sexy red of her lipstick feels more like a warning then a fashion choice. Red=Danger.
The knife descends as your lost in thought, burying itself in the soft flesh of your belly.
The initial impact isn't what you expect, it doesn't feel sharp, it feels as though someone has punched you in the gut, it feels blunt and strange. The resistance of your skin and muscles causes the blunt impact to slow and the breath is knocked out of you in a violent shock of someone being struck hard in the guts. The sweet smile on her face remains as she slowly drags the blade out, sliding it across your belly with the evil and lethal intent of a predator playing with their pray, not unlike an Orca whale.
Sudden sharp and burning pain explodes across your stomach, the wet pressure of your guts feels wrong and painful, the burn unlike anything you have felt before, worse than the spike in your throat, worse than the stab to your guts in that alleyway a week prior.
She raises her knife again, the sickly sweet smile still plastered grotesquely to her face, her irises narrowing in dangerous intent, clear and evil intentions leak from her being as the knife begins its second, brutal plunge towards the flesh of your belly, "It'll all be over soon," she says. The second punch and slash pain explodes just above the first stab wound. The fire that rocks your belly is spreading fast and painfully, the flaming lines of the wounds causing you to writhe in pain, arms flailing uncomfortably, with all the power your fear stricken and pain ridden body can manage. Blood bubbling in your abdomen, applying a wet and burning pressure against your outer flesh.
"Why don't you sleep?" Her voice cuts through the searing pain as another dull thump hits your belly in her third stab. The acidic pain suddenly flares in an unpleasant and gut wrenching pain as your stomach juices leak into your bloodstream, adding to the wet pressure her knife had already created.
The pain leans away from the burning sensation of blood and into the gnawing, cramping feeling of acid assaulting your bowels in violent leaking torrents that make you curl inwards around the knife wounds, locking your body in a painful and defensive fetal position.
"Poor baby, I prescribe lots of rest," she coos, raising the knife over your eyes in a clear indication of a killing blow. On instinct you roll, dodging the knifes descent and falling off of the bed, a familiar and horrifying sensation blocks your throat. You've rolled onto the floor and yet again your throat has found its way onto a spike.
The familiar tunnel vision and gurgling consume you. The shadow of the guardian becomes more of a background worry and less threatening.
Your hands shoot to your throat in an attempt to stem the bleeding but it's already too late. Your vision darkens violently and your breathing slows and rattles in the tell tale signs of death and finally you black out.
Vision slowly but surely darkening, black spots spreading in violently beautiful patterns before consciousness and life slips from your weakening grasp.