She watches as his blood returns, the skin on his open wound mending back before her eyes as though on replay.
The dagger falls, clanking noisily on the marble flooring.
'What are you?' She steps backwards, her heart skittering away.
He matches her step, head tilting as though in admiration of her terrified expression. A swoosh, and he leans in. 'Sweetheart, I'm your worst nightmare.'
Even the breath of his grilling whisper fanning across her cheeks are icy cold.
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