If we could..

No. No, this is wrong. This is his fault. My whole bloody life is his fault! I was supposed to kill him. I was supposed to have the revenge I've so long desired. My stake is supposed to go through his heart with ease and he's supposed to drop dead on the alley floor. I've done it before. I've been doing it since I was seven. He should be an easy kill. Like the hundreds of others before him. So, why can't I kill him? Oh, that's right. I can't move. At all. My stake is frozen in my clenched hands above my head and he stares back at me with those blood red eyes that capture all and any attention I have. My grip loosens and he cocks a brow in question, however not muttering a word. My stake falls to the damp floor. Well, fuck.