She felt nothing only a hair like pull on her wrist when she looked down it glistened, a plastic coating covered it. Blood had coagulated into a pond of mercurial liquid.
She kept staring at it. Covered she watched slimy rivulets clambering to escape. There was no pain. No sensation. It has to be a dream. Or a nightmare.
He looked at her always looking uncertain but he played a part.
He has that knowing look that appeals and repels. Hot and cold. Fevered and calm but really harboured pyretic intentions.
Maybe he was starved of it.
As she thought of him she was taken back to an underground cave with walls dripping with what appeared to be water. Remembering when he kissed her hand then suddenly flipping it over sucked her wrist, stuck his tongue into the well on her wrist and bit it. It felt bad in a good way.
His tongue tingled on her skin sending a message of seething wanton lust.
It was all very strange- the cave became darker and wetter, hotter and muculent he became nebulous and drifted in a sultry swathe of inchoate air around her back resting on the coccyx : burrowing.
She could feel the walls watch her, then one by one dark shadows twisted like a caduceus from them.
She felt sick again a nausea rising from the pit of her gut. It was at this point a dryness started to gnaw from without covering her body, aesthetic bumps appeared on her arms and legs. She leaned over then looking down she let out a silent scream.