Time slowed for poor Sam. The whisper of descent was enough to catch her attention, never mind the thump of feet on the pavement behind her. Now he...<span style="font-style: italic">it</span>had her arm. The initial reaction was to scream, but that never did much good. Though her heart threatened to pound through her chest, she forced herself to remain calm and look this thing in the eyes. It was taller than her, by a good amount, and obviously able to overpower her physically. It had also seen her robbing the ATM, which meant that this was no random encounter; no, it had been following her. She doubted that the money was of interest to it. It wanted<span style="font-style: italic">her</span>.<br/><br/>"Food." she replied automatically, though she could not quite achieve the flatness of tone she normally employed. It was partly true; she was indeed on her way to a vendor. As if to support her statement, her stomach gave a quick gurgle. For an instant, it intrigued her that her body could still be insistent on such a thing even while her life hung in the balance. She resolved to study autonomic systems and the effects of the flight-or-fight response on them when she was not about to be dismembered by an alley demon.<br/><br/>"I can't give it all to you. I have to eat. I'll just get it from my bag."<br/><br/>Her free hand crept into her messenger bag, but not toward the money. Her fingers curled around one of her Shriekers, her thumb edging the power adjustment toward maximum. If she could just activate the device, it might be enough to get it to let go of her. Then she would escape. Probably. Maybe.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Let's not get ahead of ourselves,</span>she thought grimly.