Three things are: Street, Busker and Vamp
I plunge into the street, ploughing through the crowd surrounding our local busker.
Adrenaline courses through me as I run for my life, leaving the sanctuary of my apartment, where I’ve spent days hiding.
I wobble, nearly falling on the cobbles, as I desperately look behind for my pursuer.
Screaming agony as my ankle twists, sweat pouring down my back, hair in my face, I continue my desperate struggle through the cruising shoppers.
Suddenly, the Vamp appears before me. I stop dead and stare. He smiles widely, teeth exposed, canines glistening.
He pulls me close, leans into my neck and breathes me in.
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