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.