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From: rache <rache696@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Runaway Dream Ch.7 by Rachael Ross (F/f, Vampire, Rom, Drugs, Prostitution, Violence, Horror)
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Date: Fri, 25 May 2007 07:10:03 -0400
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The Runaway Dream

Copyright 2000-2007 Rachael Ross all rights reserved. Intended for
adults.
Story Codes F/f, Vampire, Rom, Drugs, Prostitution, Violence, Horror

Note: You should read the first seven parts, beginning with "Runaway
Dream Intro" before reading this eighth part of the story.


The Runaway Dream
by rache

Chapter 7 - Solecism

"And I will show that nothing can happen more beautiful than death." -
Walt Whitman


Audrey's death was beautiful, and she did not suffer. I had held her
too long, as Angela had warned me. We were not creatures for love,
except that of the most selfish sort. We loved ourselves, and
tolerated others and I had grown fond of Audrey, adoring her in those
last few days of her life.

I would brush her hair, which had grown long. I would brush it until
it shone golden in the yellow light of our candles, and she sat still
and smiling. I couldn't bring myself to harm her, not anymore. I'd
tortured her at first, punished her for no other reason than I wanted
to know the extent of my cruelty. I wanted her to love that part of me
best because it was the part of me I hated most.

And that last night, when I held her trembling in my arms, I hated
everything I'd become. The only love I felt was for her, for my
Audrey, a girl who had just wanted to go home and I'd taken that from
her. I'd taken everything she'd ever hoped of being, every dream in
her heart, and turned them to ashes.

And oh, I was getting wise then. Beyond my years, because I knew this
was part of it. Like Angela sacrificing her friends at that monastery
so long before, this was my sacrifice. Every vampire suffers this,
Angela told me once, without exception we will find that one thing,
that one person which is precious to our being. We will take them,
covet them, and destroy them. It is who we are.

And I'd scoffed then, listening to Angela talk, because I'd lost
everything already. My parents had died, my life had ended, I'd been
dead many years before Angela had taken my life. Where would I find
something so important to me again? I'd asked her that, and Angela had
merely smiled.

Now I knew.

I made love to her, as only another woman can. With my lips and
fingers and skin on hers. I straddled Audrey's thighs as she lay on
her stomach, her arms crossed beneath her cheek, and I pressed my
breasts to her back and moved myself up and down. My kisses fell on
her neck and face, and on her shoulders as I slid my damp sex along
the soft round curve of her ass.

My feet moved to stroke Audrey's calves and my thighs rubbed hers. I
used my hands along her sides, feeling the softness of her breasts
swollen by the weight of us upon them. I ran my fingers along her
arms, moving us together, as if we were flying, our arms moving on the
great empty bed around us.

I kissed her armpits, the soft short hair perfumed with Audrey's
scent. I licked at her skin and my nipples burned against her, cold
and hard and dragging along her body. Audrey warmed me, as if I had
fresh blood in my veins. Being with her, just making love to her in
that simple fashion, it stoked the fires in my belly, and deeper in my
barren womb.

My clit was hard and I moved my hips, as if I were a boy and I could
take her from behind. I imagined myself within her, pressing my clit
to her firm buttocks and she moved against me as well, with soft sighs
and whispered words of love and devotion.

And I bit her, just beneath her left arm, behind her breast where the
vein lies close to the skin and she didn't feel it as anything but
another kiss. I filled my mouth with her, over and over, my beautiful
Audrey, the girl I loved. I filled my veins with her warmth, laying on
her back, holding her close and when her heart stopped, and her eyes
closed into that final sleep, I wept for her.

I wept remembering the many promises I'd made never to cry again, all
broken now as I covered her like a dark cloud in autumn, leaving a
cold bitter rain on fields once ripe with a life now harvested. It was
the secret way of it, this murder of innocence. I'd raped her many
times, so often that it had become something else, something tender
and romantic. But this death, was final and forever and with it flew
my hopes of redemption.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"I see you in my dreams now." I was waking up and Angela was beside
me, her arm over my body, just beneath my breasts and I felt her foot
moving against mine.

Angela was awake, but she wouldn't answer.

"I see my parents too." I furrowed my brow, trying to remember.
"You're with them, I think."

"It's just a dream." Angela murmured, turning onto her side, removing
her right arm and replacing it with her left hand.

"Yeah." I licked my lips. "We're altogether. You and me, my parents...
But..." It was fading, the way my dreams always did.

Angela massaged my breasts, playing with my bare tits and rubbing her
thumb around my stiffening nipples, moving from one to the other as if
she couldn't decide between them. It felt nice and I was smiling, but
my mind was distracted.

My parents and Angela and...They were alive in my dream, but I knew they
were always dead. When I dreamed of my parents they were dead. I
always dreamed about the after, sitting in the ambulance. The voices,
the other people and it was always jumbled and confusing and I tried
to remember but it was gone.

"School tonight." Angela kissed my ear, moving closer.

"Oh." I frowned, but I didn't complain. I had to go to school, but it
was night school for high school drop outs and people wanting a GED if
nothing else in life. I probably would have ended up there anyway,
even if Angela hadn't found me.

The only real point of it was that if I was going to live for a
hundred years, or a thousand, or whatever, did I want to go through it
sounding like an uneducated kid? Not that night school was going to
make me smart, but it was something anyway, and Angela was always
trying to get me to read. She wanted me intelligent, able to converse
about more than drugs, sex, and rock'n roll.

I suppose she had a point and her idea was that I go to school and
then continue with college, I guessed. Get an education in liberal
arts, or the humanities, or even psychology maybe. Something timeless,
something that had no practical value other than to make me more
interesting at parties, or simply in bed. It was strange sometimes
realizing how mundane life could be, even for a vampire.

"After that we'll get some money." Angela promised me. "How about
that?"

"You know somebody?" I asked her, reaching to feel her own breasts.

"Uh-huh, I found them last night, followed them." She was licking her
lips, sliding her leg up between mine.

"Them?" I bit my lips, pinching her nipple gently and rolling it.

"Three guys." Angela's thigh found my sex and I shifted my hips. "Bad,
bad men."

I giggled as she widened her eyes playfully. We had money, but I
didn't concern myself with how much. Angela owned four houses that I
knew of. We had cars, plenty of cash. But I suppose plenty is never
enough, not with such a long future to plan for and so the easiest
way, Angela's favorite way, of getting cash money was to find drug
dealers. Because they had a lot of money for one thing.

For another Angela loved hunting men, and so far as she was concerned
the bigger and badder they were, the better. She didn't like the
pretty boys, the frail young men who played at being vampires, seeking
us out in clubs or whatever. She liked the ugly guys, scarred and
tough and ready to fight for their place under the stars.

She'd taken me hunting those men before, several times, but I'd
watched mostly. I still had much to learn and Angela wouldn't let me
risk hurting myself, although I seriously doubted those men could.
Still, all it would take was a little bad luck. So I'd watched and
waited and tonight, if Angela kept her previous promises, I'd hunt
with her. Get a little blood under my nails.

"I can skip school." I grinned at her, grinding my sex against
Angela's leg and stroking her cheek.

"No you can't." She laughed. "Lick me..."

We moved into a sweet sixty-nine, side by side on the bed, with Petra
watching. She was always there when we awoke and we always ignored
her. She was sitting on the floor, watching as we made love, touching
herself slowly, being quiet. Occasionally Angela would invite her
between us, but only rarely and then we fed on her mostly, just small
sips to warm our blood, like having a cup of coffee in the morning.

Other times, much more rarely, we'd awaken to find someone else in our
bed, usually a young woman, or a girl in her teens, because that was
my preference and Angela would indulge me. She would be a runaway,
someone that Petra had found and always at Angela's bidding. The girl
would be our breakfast in bed, as I liked to joke, although it was
macabre as the girl would plainly not survive our tender kisses.

I groaned as Angela bit me, several times deep in my sex. It was our
game and I did the same to her. The pain was fleeting, just a flash
and it made the pleasure much more intense. The blood we might draw
was meaningless really, only making us hungry for the real stuff.
Vampire blood is dead to us, like wine turned to vinegar and it was
only useful for the turning, when it would mix and spread through a
dead girl's veins. Vampire blood had a life all its own in that sense.

And I locked my thighs to Angela's face, her cheeks, moving my body as
I dragged my tongue along her slit, making it stiff so I could fuck
her soft pussy. I mouthed her clit and washed it with my tongue,
dragging my teeth across her skin like twin razors so that long cuts
would open and then heal themselves within a few moments. There was
little we could do to harm each other during our sex, the bites and
scratches were just expressions of our lust.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Hey." The guy said and it wasn't the first time he'd tried to talk to
me. He was tall, maybe six feet with long sandy hair and an earring in
his left ear. Cute I suppose, which is where his confidence came from.
He had a nice face, a good smile, and he knew how to use it.

I'd been going to school for nearly a month already, just English,
math, and American history. I kept to myself, as much as I could,
going to my three classes and avoiding the other students. Most of
them were older, 18 and 19 year old kids who'd dropped out a few years
before. Some girls who'd gotten pregnant maybe, some guys who'd gotten
in trouble.

I was vulnerable there, as I was no place else, for it wasn't hard to
disguise myself, pretending to be the girl I looked like, but it
wasn't easy either and there were little things I had to be wary of.
Like mirrors, is an obvious one, but also if a girl sitting close to
me was menstruating, for example, it was hard to ignore, especially if
I hadn't fed in a few days. My eyes would turn red and my teeth grow
long. I'd have to still my heart and will my lungs to cease.

And being hit on, how little that had changed from my former life. If
anything I think being undead made me even more attractive to the boys
around me, and perhaps that was just the aura that all vampires
possess, like pheromones intended to draw their prey close. I wasn't
sure, but I did find it annoying and my instinct all too often was to
lead the boy on, to lead him outside, or to the rooftop, and tear into
his frail throat with my teeth.

But I couldn't do that, nor could I ignore everyone all the time, it
would attract attention. I needed to blend in, to be unremarkable so
far as that was possible, and so I found myself talking with this guy
who said hey.

"What's goin' on?" I asked, trying to sound bored, waiting for the
teacher of our math class to show up. Sometimes he didn't.

"Nothing, this waiting sucks." He shrugged. "I'm Jay."

"Lisa." I leaned up against the wall. We were in the Klamath Falls
armory, or what used to be an armory. Now it served as a senior
citizen's center mostly, and classrooms for GED students.

"I was gonna go have a smoke, want one?" He jerked his head towards
the doors and I nodded.

"I'm tryin' to quit." He told me lighting a Kool and handing it to me,
then lighting one of his own. I thought that was a little personal and
I felt the faint stain of Jay's saliva on the filter.

"I quit." I smiled. "But who cares, right?" I took a drag and blew the
smoke up at the moon. We were sitting on a short wall with half-dead
shrubs planted behind it. The parking lot was in front of us, quiet
and empty.

"Not me." He laughed. "How long you been coming here?"

"Bout a month." I nodded. "It sucks, huh."

"Yeah." He nodded. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Shit." He gave me a look like he didn't believe me. "You look older."

"Is that good or bad?" I giggled.

"It's good for me." He grinned, flashing that killer smile of his and
I bet that worked good for him.

"How old are you?" I asked, smoking my cigarette slowly.

"Eighteen." He ran his fingers through his hair as a breeze came up.
"I was touring for awhile."

"Touring?" I dipped my head. "Like what? You go to Disneyland?"

"No." He laughed. "Touring. I got a band, you know. I play the bass,
do some singing, that stuff."

"Really?" I smiled at him, a real one cause I always thought people
who could do that were pretty cool.

"Yeah, our band's called Broken Window." He flicked his cigarette.
"Ever heard of us?"

"Nope." I laughed softly, shaking my head.

"We got some demos out, looking for a deal now." He paused and then
looked at me. "I got a cd in my car. Wanna hear it? Just there." He
gestured at the parking lot.

I knew better, I mean really, this guy was putting all the moves on me
now. But they were good moves and if I was into guys I might not have
minded at all. If Jay had been a girl, I'd have been all over her
already, so yeah. I knew better, but I did it anyway, because that's
what 15 year olds do, girls or vampires, makes no difference.

"Sure, yeah." I tossed my cigarette in the bushes, half-hoping it
would start a fire just so somebody would water the things.

"Cool." Jay put his hand on the small of my back, against Audrey's
jacket, which I planned on keeping the rest of my life.

Beneath that I just wore jeans and a t-shirt and my old boots. I had
my knife in my back pocket, but I'd never need it, not anymore. It
just felt good, that heavy thing, like a memory I liked to keep handy.
I had my bag over my shoulder, my books and notepads, not very many,
just enough to be a nuisance.

"Hear we go." I was in his car, in the passenger seat of an old
Mustang, one of the ugly ones from the eighties, rusty and dusty with
the back seat littered.

He pushed a blank cd into the dashboard player and the sound of some
serious Nirvana wanna-be's came through the speakers. One thing about
that part of the country, grunge was alive and well and probably would
be for the next fifty years. Until the next Kurt Cobain came along
with the talent and heart to do something different.

I loved Nirvana and I tried to like what I was hearing but it was
tough. They weren't that good and it didn't matter anyway because Jay
had me in his car now and that's all he'd ever really wanted.

"How do you like it?" Jay was asking me, leaning close because the
music was loud and his right hand went to my thigh, rubbing me.

"It's good." I lied. "You guys are good."

"Yeah, thanks." Jay stroked further up, squeezing me and I was looking
at him, smiling, knowing that look. He was going to kiss me in a
minute. Less than that probably.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" I asked him, just to bring him on.

"Oh yeah." He nodded slowly. "You're pretty hot. I can't believe your
just fifteen. You got a boyfriend?"

"Not yet." I stuck the tip of my tongue out the corner of my mouth.
"You know where I can get one?"

"I got some ideas." Jay grinned. "Sure. Why kind of guy do you like?"

The boy was as close as he could get to me without climbing across the
center console and into my seat with me. His arm was on my shoulder
now, pulling me gently to lean towards him, to meet Jay halfway. His
left hand was on my leg, so his body was turned and he was looking
into my eyes and I knew they were getting red.

"Mmmm..." I turned my eyes down, thinking about it. "Tall guys, sorta
cute, ummm...Bass players..." I giggled.

"Oh yeah, Lisa." He nodded. "I know a guy just like that."

"Yeah?" I looked up then with glowing crimson eyes and Jay blinked
once and then again, but by that time I was on him.

I pushed Jay back hard, one hand in his long oily hair and the other
on his chest. I had his throat and my teeth went into his jugular,
which was such a thin vein compared to the artery pulsing on the
opposite side. He screamed briefly, his hand pushing at me and his
feet kicked, a knee hitting the dash hard enough to make that lousy
song skip a little.

Blood gushed freely, so fast and hard that I couldn't drink him fast
enough. I'd severed the vein completely, punctured his neck through to
his esophagus, and what didn't overflow my hungry mouth was pouring
into his lungs. But Jay would bleed to death long before he could
drown. His heart was beating fast, but getting weak quickly as the
adrenaline that pushed it merely killed him all the faster.

I could feel myself growing flush. His blood was absorbed rapidly into
my own blood, it wasn't digested, not like a human would think of it.
Blood was mixed with mine and for a time, a few days at least, I would
be strong with it. Jay would keep me alive until I had to feed again
and I didn't mourn him at all.

Jay would have fucked me if he could have, and probably forgotten me
twenty minutes later. I'd just done some other girl a favor, I
thought, saved some kid's virginity for someone else. Maybe even the
right someone else, but that was pushing it. Still, the thought did
make me smile as I worked my mouth to draw as much of the boy's blood
from his lifeless body as I could before leaving him forever.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"What happened to you?" Angela asked me, as if she couldn't tell. My t-
shirt was black in the moonlight, stained with Jay's blood and I
reeked of it to Angela's sensitive nose.

She'd met me at the seven-eleven, a few blocks from the armory and I'd
been there early, of course. Sitting in the shadows and waiting
impatiently.

"The teacher didn't show." I giggled, feeling more than a little
petulant.

"You killed the teacher?"

"No." I shook my head. "Some guy who wanted to fuck me. He was cute."

"You can't be doing that..."

"Yeah, yeah..." I nodded. "Sorry mom."

"I mean it." She sighed then. "It isn't funny."

I stopped smiling.

"You think people don't know about us?"

"What people?" I made a face. "The government? The UFO nuts? The guys
who killed Kennedy? Come on Angela, jeeze, it was just a fuckin' guy.
A nobody. Lighten up."

"You're a pain in the ass." She shook her head. "You know that?"

"Yeah, well..." I shrugged.

"And don't call me mom, kay?"

"...right, sure." I rolled my eyes.

"What did you do with him?" Angela pursed her lips, looking out the
window of our car.

"I wrote him a suicide note." I giggled. "What do you think?"

"You left him, huh." And it wasn't a question.

"Well, he was in his car." I shrugged. "I didn't know what to do. It
isn't like you tell me anything. Teach me to drive and..."

"Never mind." Angela shook her head. "We'll hunt south, leave some
bodies on the road going to Frisco. Give them a ghost to chase."

"I thought we were gonna get those drug guys?" I frowned.

"We were." Angela looked at me pointedly. "But guess what? Klamath has
a vampire problem, so..."

"I said I was sorry." I looked out my own window.

"No you didn't."

"I did so." I pouted. "Shows how much you listen."

"Well, you didn't sound sorry." Angela started the car.

She was totally paranoid about stuff like leaving bodies with bite
marks lying around. And I didn't believe that stuff about some people
knowing about us, like some anti-vampire conspiracy. I mean everyone
wanted to believe in vampires, yeah, but only because of the movies
and books and crap like that. If the government knew about vampires it
would get out and that would be really trippy. Nobody could keep a
secret that big, except the vampires. And I was doing my best to give
it away, if you believed Angela.

No, what happened would be the cops would find the body, throat ripped
open, most of the blood gone someplace, and it would be blamed on
cultist. Satanists did it. Or some weird Goth serial killer who
thought he was a vampire. Even if someone remembered me, and even if
they saw me with him in the car, nobody was going to blame a 15 year
old girl for a crime like that.

Serial killers were always wacked out guys, living quietly in their
houses, being good neighbors and above suspicion. Fifteen year old
girls, on the other hand, were never serial killers. We were victims
and I'd be remembered as the girl who'd got kidnapped by the killer,
probably. They'd have a description and a fake name and a crappy
address at the YWCA in Portland, and I'd just be gone. Missing.
Assuming anyone remembered me at all, and that was a big assumption.

Angela was way overworked about this whole thing, I thought. But then
I hadn't been trying to stay alive for 500 years either.

=-=-=-=-=-=

We drove all night and Angela was edgy because she hadn't fed in three
days. She'd sleep heavy that day, in the room we took at a Holiday Inn
in Sacramento. That was about as close as we could get to San
Francisco without drawing real attention. Angela told me she could
already scent the others, two vampires who lived there, more than a
hundred miles away.

I couldn't, but I was weak at that and would be for a long time.

We flipped the mattress over, sleeping beneath it and wrapped in
blankets like cocoons because even with the heavy curtains drawn the
room would still be too bright for me. Angela could take the sun, and
I was a little stronger, but not enough, not yet. I needed as much
darkness as I could get.

It sucks being a newborn vampire.

Angela's plan was simple. We'd find two people that night. A girl who
resembled me, and a boy about the same age as Jay had been. We'd feed
on them, or more likely Angela would feed on one of them and we'd just
empty the other, leaving plenty of blood, so that it looked like
something had gone wrong draining her. Like a container had broke or
something.

The trail would lead away from us, there'd be no more killings in
Klamath for a long time and everything would be fine. I might even get
to go back to school someday, a thought that was bound to fill me with
joy.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked Angela, curled up beside her underneath
all that bedding.

"No." She smiled. "I just forget what it was like, that's all."

"When you were new?"

"Yeah." Angela laughed. "When I was new."

We were quiet for a bit, waiting for sleep.

"Do you ever wish you had someone else?" I cleared my throat. "I mean
older than me?"

"No." Angela shook her head slightly and she was tired. "You'll grow
soon enough. We have lots of time."

"I love you." I kissed her, just lightly.

"Go to sleep now." She gave me a little squeeze. "The sun is coming
up."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Him." I said, looking at a boy who looked a lot like Jay. The same
height, same hair, except maybe a little darker.

"Okay." Angela nodded.

It was just after nine at night and we hadn't looked for very long.
The guy was a prostitute, which made it real easy. That had been our
first choice, because prostitutes were always fair game for serial
killers. They were also incredibly simple to kill. The girl would be a
little tougher because we wanted a girl who would be missed, deciding
that a missing girl would be better than Angela's original idea. It
would duplicate the crime in Klamath as much as possible.

Angela would feed on the girl and we'd put her in a secret place,
where she wouldn't be found for years and years. The boy would be
spilled, his blood wasted on the ground.

"Hi." I was walking along what passed for the red light district of
Sacramento, a town entirely too clean for my tastes.

I was dressed like prostitute myself now, having run by a local thrift
store just after sunset. I had a red vinyl skirt, a small top, like
half a bikini with triangular cups too big for my tits, so they moved
around loosely. I had too much makeup, trusting Angela to make me look
like a child whore. I bounced along on heels two inches high that were
killing my feet. I never wore heels.

"Sup?" The guy said, looking at me briefly and then forgetting me.

"Slow, huh." I got closer and touched his arm. He was wearing a tight
sleeveless t-shirt and some tight black jeans. "Come with me. I got
what you need...Come on...we'll get high...Come with me..."

It was as easy as it had ever been with Audrey and I'd had a lot of
practice with her. The boy followed me, smiling and nodding while I
held his hand, whispering to him about how good we were going to feel.
I didn't know what his monkey was, meth maybe, or dope, but he didn't
look like a fiend and it didn't matter anyway.

We went into an alley and nobody noticed, nobody cared, because we
were invisible to everyone but other pros, the boys and girls who
might know us. For the regular people, the civilians going about their
lives, me and him were just garbage blowing down the street.

Angela was there, like a ghost and she took him so quickly from me
that I barely had time to realize it before they were gone. She'd
grabbed him by his shoulder, lifting him easily with one hand and
crawling up two stories of smooth cinderblock wall to disappear onto
the rooftop. It was a cool trick.

I went back to the street, killing time and it wouldn't be long.
Angela was just going to bite his neck, open his artery and let him
stumble around, loosing blood quickly as he tried to understand that
he was dying. She'd leave him up there, another mystery for the police
to puzzle over and hopefully connect to another dead boy some 300
miles north.

"Hey baby..." A car was pulling over and I rolled my eyes.

I could have ignored the guy, but me being me...I just had to mess with
him.

"Hey Daddy." I giggled, wishing I had some gum. I leaned over, putting
my hands on my knees and shaking my little butt from side to side like
I was dancing to music only I could hear.

"Heh." The guy grinned and pushed open the door. "Let me take you
home."

"Mmm..." I rolled my eyes a little. "I'm not sposed to ride with
strangers." I sighed. "But maybe you know my friends?"

"Friends?" The guy laughed, glancing around because maybe this was
taking longer than he wanted. "Like who?"

"Ohhh...Ben Franklin?" I stuck out my tongue a little. "You know him?"

"Right, yeah." He nodded. "How old are you?"

"Thirteen." I giggled. "Why?"

"Cause you're under arrest, sweetie." The guy flashed a badge and some
Hispanic woman was trying to grab me then, a vice cop in her own
hooker outfit. These cops were good, I thought, but it was a fleeting
observation.

I took her wrist blindly, even as she was trying to take mine, and my
fingernails tore through her veins and tendons like four stainless
razors, ripping a large piece of flesh from her arm and bringing a
scream as she dropped to her knees, staring at the wound. The smell of
blood filled my nose and I could taste it in the air.

The guy in the car was still looking at me when I dove into it a split
second later, tearing at his throat with my fingers. I wasn't going to
feed, I was going to kill him and he didn't stand a chance. This was
pure survival now, and whatever I lacked in experience, my vampire
instincts worked just fine. Blood sprayed across the interior of the
car and his feet kicked weakly, slipping off the brake and onto the
gas so that the car lurched forward a dozen feet, onto the curb and
into a telephone pole, which cracked, but didn't fall.

I'd gotten tossed good with that little crash, banging my skull
against the windshield and cracking the glass. I shook my head for a
second and then I was coming out of the car when the woman shot me.
She was crying, her left arm limp and dripping blood fast and she'd
have spent her time better putting a tourniquet on it, but she was a
cop and her partner was dying. I guess I could understand that.

The bullet hit me in the right shoulder and it knocked me down hard.
It didn't hurt really, it just...knocked me down. And I looked at my
shoulder, wondering what that weird feeling was all about. The woman
was going to shoot me again I think, because she knew, or maybe just
sensed that the other cop was already dead. I wondered briefly if a
gun that small could kill me and my legs really didn't want to work
just then.

Then the woman's head was very nearly severed as Angela took her from
behind, so that the female cop's face just fell forward slowly until
her chin hit her breastbone. Blood ran wildly across her shoulders,
and the cop's legs buckled so that she just dropped onto her ass, then
pitched forward to lay on the cement. I saw her foot twitching a
little.

"I screwed up again." I giggled as Angela lifted me easily and then
the world was a blur.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

end of part eight

rache696@yahoo.com
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rache/www/index.htm

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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