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Your screams were more foreign to you than any sound you'd ever made. As if they shouldn't have been coming from you at all - and they shouldn't have.
No one could hear you. At least, no one had seemed to.
The fear in having a knife pressed to your throat was more than you could possibly have ever comprehended. But the knowledge that a millisecond's worth of force on it would end your life created a feeling beyond even that.
Your attacker spoke words that you could barely make out over the drumming in your chest.
You couldn't scream again. Not now. Not when any movement of your neck could bring the knife closer.
You didn't gulp. You didn't flinch. You didn't know who could possibly have heard.
It was only when hope had left you entirely that you saw a shadow of a man descend from above you.
