PanicMature

"Of course. I can hardly live all on my lonesome, can I?," she cooed, reaching out to hold his hand.

Again, he retracted. Janet's dead weight lay on his knees.

"Betty. Please. No. I don't want to-"

"Oh, be quiet! You'll learn to live with it." She rolled her eyes. "You're going to stay with me. Forever. Just the two of us. It's all I've ever wanted."

She was insane. 

"You can't! Betty. I won't let you!," he cried.

"You don't have any choice in the matter!," she retorted.

"I don't love you!," he blurted. 

She didn't flinch. "I know," she cooed. "But you will".

He tried to back away from her, Janet's corpse falling to the floor as he scrambled back.

"I loved you because I thought no one else will love me, I married you because I thought I'd be alone. I won't let you do this. I'll run."

"You only need me to love you, Robert!," she breathed, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. "If you run," she backfired, her voice tense, "I'll kill all those you care for!". She huffed, and regained her composure.

"All you need is me," she said simply.

Robert's heart was beating fast again.

"Can you try not to do that?," she whined. "It's distracting, even on a full stomach."

He eyed the stake across the room. Was it too far to get it? Could he do this? He'd thought the worst had been, but a lifetime with her, living eternally, would be hell.  

"Now, come on, it's not going to hurt really-" she said, leaning towards him. 

He dodged. 

"Betty. Please. No".

"Robert!," she hissed, pouncing on him. She was on top of him, pinning him to the floor. She almost purred. 

"If you're going to be that way, we'll have to do it like this. Now, hold still-".

He wriggled and squirmed, and prayed for a miracle. His life almost flashed before his eyes. It was all shopping at B & Q and office papers and cheap wine. 

He didn't want to die this way. He didn't want to live through what was to come. 

Her lips brushed over his neck-

This was the end.

When, suddenly-

"FUCK

SHIT

CUNT

BASTARDFUCKCUNT!". 

Time went into slow motion as he looked up to see a gleaming black motorbike crash in through the window, shattering all glass in it as it did, breaks squealing. Flames licked the back off it. 

Something smelled like it was burning. 

Atop of this monstrous vehicle, on fire, and screaming in a Scottish accent was a sight for sore eyes. 

Time resumed it's usual pace, and Robert beamed like a blind man seeing the sun.

"You!," hissed Betty. "You're supposed to be dead!". 

"Good evening to you too, bitch," said Pete, patting the flames off himself.

A miracle in a trench coat. 

"Lovely weather, isn't it? I had to get here in a rush like, or I wouldn't have risked driving."

"You're a-vampire...?," she choked. 

"Pete!," croaked Robert. 

"Hello, Rob, you old bugger. You look a fucking mess," he shook his head. 

Betty hissed. 

"Now, Betty, if you could get off him please. I'm here to ensure your ultimate demise, and oh," he said, shaking his head, grinning, "Will I take pleasure it that."

Things were about to get interesting. 



The End

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