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“You are the devil of a woman!” he called after her, screaming out a name that was never hers.

She laughed. How amusing it was to her to have him yell at her, as if that would change her disposition.

Alive with a small sense of curiosity, she walked back over to him, heels clacking loudly against the tiled floor. She looked down at him, smiling wide as she pressed hard into his chest with her left foot. He groaned in pain as the thin tip of the heel she wore broke the tender barrier of his skin. It was a wonderful sound – she bathed in the agonizing sounds – enjoying them after the torture of having to listen to him. The blood began to pool around him, slowly as she tossed her head back, shaking with laughter.

“Do not flatter me so,” and with the flick of a tail and flash of a smile, she was gone.

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