'Don't try to restist it' Nim and Henrik?
Gone was the goofy, silly demeanor Nim normally possessed. Henrik was throwing chairs in between himself and Nim as they circled the table, and his only current weapon was a butter knife. It wouldn’t do much good, but it was at least something until he found something better.
“Don’t try to ressist,” Nim growled, advancing on Henrik. He wasn’t using his powers, but that wasn’t a good sign either. It meant he’d passed hungry and was entering ravenous, and Henrik knew any sudden movements would result in his death.
He was going to die either way unless he acted fast.
“Nim,” he said carefully, a tone of warning in his voice. “You do not want to do this. We are friends, remember?”
“Ssso HUNGRY!” Came the angry response. Nim was readying a pounce, shoulders hunched and tail rigid, flat against the floor. His fangs were oozing with thick venom, and Henrik did not want to know what that felt like inside of him.
Henrik dove to the side, crashing into the kitchen table hard enough to leave him dazed, not hard enough to knock him out. He felt a hand wrap around his ankle, yanking him back, so Henrik used his free leg to kick at Nim.
“Let go!” Henrik shouted, throwing the knife. He didn’t see where it landed, but he was freed when Nim howled in pain.
Henrik bolted toward the front door. He wasn’t going to stay in the house any longer with that mad man loose, and he cursed that no one else was home to help. “HELP ME!” Henrik screamed, trying to throw the front door open. “Someone, help! I’m-”
He was grabbed again, yanked away right as the door creaked open.
“I told you not to resist me,” Nim hissed.
