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... had taken a seat in the booth, and was enjoying a cigarette.
Jane was struggling to rasp out breath now and her skin was turning pale.
"H-help me!" Shepard wheezed, looking desperately at Meln, who had finished his smoke and was readjusting his pants.
"Sorry human, but I've got dates to keep." Meln smiled, rising to his feet. As he walked away, all Shepard could do was weakly gasp for his help. He'd clearly known this would happen to Shepard, and he left her regardless.
Shepard fought desperately to move, to get up and find people, but all she accomplished was wasting precious oxygen. She could barely breath now, and was sure her throat was beginning to close up. Shepard's thighs and pussy were breaking out in irritated hives. Her breasts bore red marks from where Meln's filthy claws had groped her breasts in a vicegrip.
Then came the moment. Shepard's allergic reaction worsened to the point where she could no longer draw breath. Her eyes bulged as she struggled for air. The booth was spinning and Shepard was, for once, terrified. A tear slid down each of her cheeks. She'd been killed once before, saving her crew from the Reapers, had been expensively revived by Cerberus to save the galaxy again, or die trying. Instead, she died alone, in a scum-filled nightclub, ...