Tim froze. The girl was looking at him, and she blinked. Tim stared back, still frozen. He couldn’t move. He didn’t dare move. All thoughts of home, terror, and sickness left him now, and all he could feel, at first, was relief. But then the full realization of what was happening hit him. The girl wasn’t dead, but blood was still streaking down her nose, into her mouth, which was wide open now, and the blood collecting in her mouth was drooling out of her mouth as she got up, and started shambling toward him. As frozen as Tim was, he jumped up, and realized the sword wasn’t flashing any colors or blinking. Instead, it was jet black, and he could see the tadpole swirling around. Instead of running, Tim hesitantly reached forward to grab the sword, and the girl lunged at him, grabbing him around his right leg, and trying to bite through the leather. Tim jumped when she did so, and stumbled against the wall, smashing her body against it in the process. The shriek that proceeded to come from the small girl was deafening and piercing. He managed to grab it, and pulled it from the girls head, cutting it open even more in the process. He grimaced, and, without thinking, swung again at the girl. He connected with her neck, and nearly severed her neck in half. it was over. she was dead.
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