Sitting with his back against the wall, Max could feel the coldness of the tile floor on his hands. His brain was frantically sending messages to his legs to get up, get moving, but they did not respond. Slowly, Nancy crawled towards his out stretched legs.

…four feet away.

'This had to be some kind of nightmare.', Max thought, 'This cannot not be happening.'

…three feet away.

Move legs, MOVE. The message was sent but all Max could manage was to spread his feet apart. There, picture framed between his feet, Max could see Nancy's slack face moving ever closer and yet he just sat still letting her get closer.

…two feet away.

He could feel the blood underneath him, who was it from? Nancy? Bob? Fred? Himself? It had spread across the floor and now was soaking into his pant legs. This was it, he was going to die.

Slowly he bent his right knee, pulling his foot backwards. Max's brain fired a signal and his foot snapped out towards Nancy's face. He had intended a direct hit on her nose, but the heel of his shoe glanced off of her left cheek exposing muscle and bone. Nancy still advanced, her cloudy eyes never leaving her prey. He kicked again, this time skipping a blow off of her forehead which caused her whole head to jerk back unnaturally. Nancy managed to wrap her lifeless hand around his left ankle. Her touch caused an uncontrollable panic to course through him. Frantically Max kicked again but the fear of desperation caused him to completely miss the intended target. Max could feel himself sliding towards Nancy, she was pulling him. Max spread his fingers and tried to dig his nails into the floor, something, anything to stop her. But the crimson liquid provided no friction against the tile. This was it.

Nancy lowered her head towards Max's calf and that spurred Max to act again, he swung his left foot around, briefly thinking of the old movie "My Left Foot", it swung around and thudded into Nancy's head.