One Last Touch
One touch, soft at first, and then harder. That's all it took for the wraith to begin to feed. He didn't feel his life slipping away, though he knew that's what was happening. Rather, he felt a desire to not let the wraith win.
He pushed against it, struggled, squirmed. Couldn't get away. Hadn't expected to. He kept fighting it anyway.
When his strength was depleted, he settled for not letting himself scream.
It took all that was left in him to keep his mouth shut, and toward the end, he couldn't help it. The pain twisted inside of him, sucked him dry, and his screams filled the cavernous room of the hive ship. Echoed.
Then, finally, his screams stopped.
The wraith smiled.