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The pang was sharp and quick.
    My body went taut,

And then slackened as she grimaced and yanked out the
    Shiny, blood soaked blade.  Bowing my head

And clutching at my chest, I felt the blood rush
    through my throat and into my lungs.

Spluttering, choking, my eyes
    bulged.  The froth

Filling my mouth gargled up through
    my perforated throat.

My neck was tight, my own muscles a garrote
    squeezing at my pipes.

I could hear the short chokes and
    staggered, staccato gasps

Of my last few breaths.  Drooling deep crimson onto 
    her shoes, I buckled to the ground,

Jolting to my knees, worshipping her,
    praying to her.

My eyes rolled back, and seeing not but up into my
    own head, all onus and outrage departed,

My wickedness was upon me.





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