Richa Resa's Blog

My legs moved right to the bed, straddling him with my knife on his arched neck, leaving his hand suspended in the air. I wanted to see him try and reach for that knife. I wanted him to touch it so I could make him bleed through his throat. He just needed to reach out a bit closer and he could grasp it. Just a little arch of his neck, a little push, and the edge of my knife would slide over his skin letting the beads of blood escape through the cut until it flowed violently.