Sacrifice

The man descended the stairs of the basement, flicking on a lamp he held. He was grinning, and Qian Meigui couldn't understand why he was so smug.

Qian Meigui sat on the cold concrete floor, slightly annoyed and bored. "Get on with it, then," she told him. She instead would rather it be over and done with than this nervous waiting game in the pit of her gut.

The man approached closer, holding it up between their faces. He appeared to be an ugly and bitter man. He didn't say anything; his hazel eyes stared at her with some twisted astonishment. He held a closed knife in his hand, using his dirt-stained fingers to caress her cheek.

Qian Meigui knitted her brows, staring into his stone-cold eyes. "What the fuck do you want?" she asked him, spitting at his face.