He turns you around, his long hair hanging in your face. He looks familiar… Your mind makes the connection. His name is Chris… Sinclair? Yeah, tha... sounds right… Nails dig into your arms as he slides down your body, on his knees. His teeth bite into your thigh, searching for the femoral artery. Other hands come, groping at you, pulling, pinching… It is like they are trying to rip you apart. You hear a scream as the music falters for a moment, a blood curdling high pitched shriek of pure. It wasn'tdeliberate, but still gave her a fright. So she decided to bell the cat.She found some little bells amongst last year's Christmas decorations,proper bell-shaped ones. They had short loops of what looked like fishingline for hanging them on a Christmas tree or whatever. Then she cut themiddle out of a couple of round Band-Aids, the kind nurses put on afteran injection or taking a blood sample. The loops she laid on the stickybits.She took him a little by surprise. "Eve! Stand still for. More

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