His leg zipped out and kicked the knife out of my hand. Panic jolted through me as I made a mad grab at it, which was the wrong thing to do. During my nanosecond of preoccupation with the knife, he surged to his feet and dragged me forward by my bun. His other hand gripped my neck tight enough to cut off speech.
No! I bucked and twisted and clawed at his hands. Even his gaping wound leaking black blood. Especially his gaping wound.
He didn't let me go. Just tightened his hold so several hairs broke free from my scalp. My eyes stung at the pain as I continued to rip and claw and tear at him. The hellish pit was just a foot away.
I couldn't reach the knife, so I snatched a stake from my boot. Before I could jam it into his flesh, the stake incinerated, turning to black ash in my hands.
