"Now, watch." He takes my arm again and readies the axe.
"No, no, no, no!" I try to get away. "Don't! Please! LF - get me out of here!"
He twists, isolating my hand and leaving me with nothing but his broad back to pound at.
That's when it hits me. He smells like camping: forest, horseback riding, and . . . brownies.
God, I love brownies.
The axe goes up and drops.
Hot agony shoots through me.
I scream.
Darkness takes me.