The Will to Live

I started to turn my head.

“I wouldn’t.”

The voice sounded seductive and playful. And very clearly female. I felt a stab of anger at that, as if it somehow amplified my husband’s betrayal.

“It is difficult to find a bloodline that can sustain the DNA. Very difficult,” she said. “You realise you have caused us quite an… inconvenience.”

The words were whispered straight into my ear. I would’ve felt her breath on my cheek, if she were breathing.

“I just… he would’ve wanted-”

“Tsk, tsk. He chose what he wanted.” She seemed amused. “It cannot be forced upon someone. To survive the process is difficult enough. The will to live is crucial.”

Every single instinct in my head was screaming for me to run, but I knew I wouldn’t even make a half-dozen steps.

“What are you going to do to me?” I choked out.

There was silence.

The fire was beginning to die. The air was cold and clean in anticipation of the the impending dawn. How long? An hour? Less?

“Tell me,” she said. “How strong is your will to live?”

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