I’m leaving this world. It suddenly seems so simple. Like I was destined for this all along. I breathe in again as Klaasen shifts behind me and I feel the knife at my throat. The metal’s cool, but then turns hot as it slices into my flesh.

The pain’s like a switch. It ignites me, electrifies me, jolts through every cell I have. Thought is gone. Thought is nothing.

I slam my head back and to the side, away from the knife. I feel Klaasen’s nose crunch. I throw myself down and roll several times, my hands still bound at the wrist. The world spins, grass, trees, sky, grass, trees, sky. Something’s happening. I feel different.

I turn to face him. He’s standing now, grinning at me, gripping the knife. Nose to the wind. I also see that I’ve been tricked. In his other hand, the hand that I thought was holding the gun, is a very short piece of metal piping. He holds it up, taking aim. He pretends to fire it, and then grins even more.

The world drops away. My stomach lurches. I can feel a huge swell inside me, rising up and gathering strength and speed and power. Up and up and up until I can control it no longer. I’m taken by its sheer magnificent intensity.

As I launch myself towards him, a terrible cry coming from my lips, I know that I’m not me.

Everything’s easy now, everything’s slow. I dodge the swing of the knife, and throw myself right at him, slamming into his chest, knocking him backwards. He takes a few stumbling steps, then catches a heel on something. It takes forever, his arms windmilling, but still he goes down. The earth vibrates as he hits. I leap forward and stamp on his wrist. The knife drops from his fingers. With the other hand he swings the metal rod up and round into my knee. The pain feels amazing. Clear, pure. I stamp on that arm as well and he drops it. He’s still grinning but it’s fixed now. There’s fear in his eyes. There’s fear in the air. I can smell it.

I drop down, knees pinning both his arms. I shove a hand under his chin, exposing his neck. It’s unprotected, stretched out in the gathering light.

Something shifts inside me. Our teeth are bared. Saliva drips.

We itch to bite. Bite the neck and shake it till the crunch that tells us it’s finally broken and he goes limp.

Tremors. Trembling. Bite. Bite. Bite bite bitebitebitebite …

I pull back. It’s got me this far. But I’m in control. I’m still trembling. The desire to bite a blazing fire in my head, my whole body. I force myself to breathe slowly.