She feels the weakness in his hand and smiles wider, she has him now. She drags herself up his body, plants her knees on either side of his chest, squeezing tight enough to keep him there. One hand settles on his shoulder, pressing down, also to keep him in place, the other, still holding the blade, bloody now, her grip slick with it.

She hears his question, makes a hiccup of a laugh. "Because it's fun." Her eyes are wide and guileless as she stares down at him. Isn't he having fun? Oh, she supposes not.

She moves to stab him again, slow, wanting to take her time, wanting to make sure he can feel every inch of it entering his body. Just like she had with Eve. Her gut tightens in memory, and her smile freezes in place. It's not the same, it's not at all the same, but the memory is insistent, won't fade... She needs him to be dead now.