.....dream. She could smell it, that metallic smell of blood, her blood. He was going to kill her she was sure of it now. She felt despair creep up on her, he wanted something but she didn’t know what. This was it; this was how her life was going to end. She couldn’t help but silently weep.
Lance looked at the time on his wrist watch as he walked towards Sheryl’s room. He knew it was late but he had to apologize to her for not showing up at the workshop and he didn’t want to do it over the phone. He stopped outside her door and hesitated.
“Maybe he should just wait until tomorrow” he thought.
But he was here already; he might as well just get it over with. He knocked three times and when he didn’t get a response he called out her name.
Inside, Sheryl felt hope fall upon her, maybe she wasn’t going to die after all.
“Be quiet if you know what’s good for you” her attacker warned.
“Sheryl!” Lance called out again.
Sheryl needed to get his attention somehow; he was her only chance at escape. She had made up her mind; she would break free and make a run for it. Sheryl took in a big breath and jabbed her attacker hard in the chest with her elbow. He stumbled back but still did not let go of her. She sank her teeth into his arm and he yelped in pain as he fell back.
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