Chapter 20. Her Creepy Night

“Look at me!” Daryl snarled, grabbing the barwoman on her blond hair.

She gasped and sobbed, pleading for her life.

“Please don’t kill me,” she barely squeezes out. Her voice was faint. She could barely see anything around her as the darkness in the alley was so blinding. All she could hear was the fierce breath of Daryl.

Daryl had her hair so firm that it hurt her badly. He stared her deep in the eyes. “Don’t scream; don’t let out a word,” he compels her.

“I will not scream; I will not let out a word.” She repeated after him.

“Good,” Daryl said, sinking his fangs on her.

A sharp pain ran through her fragile skin. The pain becomes steady, like the pain of someone stabbed with a needle in the neck. She wanted to scream or let out a word of plea, but she felt a burden deep in her not to scream or let a word. She’s silently dying and unable to scream to respond to the pain she is feeling.

Her eyes gleamed with horror, and then her vision began