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Drifter #9

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Watts staggered backwards into the alcove where he'd been sleeping, dropping the Taser.

Fangs bared, eyes blazing and hands clawed; the woman in black flashed across the street and was on him in seconds. There was no control, just pure rage. Mouth wide open, she clamped it across Watts' throat and bit down hard. Slicing through, she tore his throat out. Bright red, arterial, blood fountained from the hole. Splashing up the alcove, and spilling out into the snow covered street.

Her frenzied attack kept up for a few moments longer, as she clawed and tore at Watts' cooling cadaver.

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