We both landed hard on the ground and I immediately go for the knife, grabbing a hold of his wrist. Time seemed to slow down as we went through a power struggle, each nearly equally matched.

His grin got even bigger as he widened his eyes, releasing the knife, but so did my hand on his wrist.

I couldn’t move my hand.

“This is your body after all,” his voice resonates with a laugh, though his mouth does not move, “I can control you in this place,” he sat up and pushed me away with a force that knocked the air out of me.

He picked up the knife once more, but turned his attention to me. I regain my breath and stand to face him, his hand firmly gripping the knife.

“I wouldn’t dare destroy this body,” he starts, lifting the knife, pressing it against his neck, “but I can harm you into submission.”

He moves the knife slightly, creating a small incision on his neck; I feel warmth trickle down mine. I reach up, my fingers touching something warm and wet.

 I pull my hand away and my eyes widen, seeing the blood.

 I return my focus to him, a darker, closer to black, liquid dripping from his neck.

“Now, stay there,” he seethes out, his grin falling to a snarl for a brief moment, and he turns back to (f/n).

To hell if I was going to listen to him!

I try to move, but my knees buckle and I fall.

“Shit!” I hiss out.

I watch him as he places the knife at his side, taking seat next to her sleeping body. He brushes some hair from her face as she starts to stir. She looks to him, smiling and stretching.

“Heeey, what time is it?” She asks groggily, rubbing her eyes.

My throat clenches as I try to yell out to her, my arms don’t want to move to reach out to her. Dread fills me, I’m totally incapacitated.