“Scotty, what is that?” Sprite asked, her brain not believing what her eyes were seeing.

“Just stay away from me, Sprite! Stay away.”

“No, I don’t think so, Scotty,” Sprite said, standing up and wiping away blood that had formed at the corner of her mouth. “No, you owe me and you’re going to help me. And I don’t care what sort of armor you’ve got under your cloths to protect you. Nothing can save you if you don’t help me get what I want.”

The little man was looking more and more nervous.

“You owe me, Scotty!” Sprite yelled.