Try to talk my way out of this

I suck in a shaky breath, forcing my voice steady, though my heart feels like it’s going to tear through my ribs.

“Trevor. You don’t have to do this. Look — just let’s... let’s talk, okay?”

He’s breathing hard, eyes wild, but he doesn’t stab me. That’s something. The knife trembles at my throat, close enough I feel its cold bite.

“Why?” I whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

His face twists. A grin, but not the kind that means anything good. His eyes shine with something worse than lust — madness.

“You should feel honored,” he mutters. “You’ll be a gift. A sacrifice. She’ll see my worth... when I give her you.”

My blood runs cold. My mind scrambles for anything, any words that might save me.

“Please — I’ll do anything,” I choke out, tears blurring my vision. “You can fuck me, right here, anything you want. Just don’t — don’t do this... please...”

For a second, he hesitates. But then his lip curls in disgusted glee, shaking his head.

“There’s no pleasure you could give me that would compare to the bliss of her. She’ll finally see my worth.”

Fuck, this guy is insane... he's trying to impress some ex psycho girlfriend by killing me or what?

His free hand grabs at my dress, yanking, tearing the fabric like paper. I sob, writhing, trying to twist away as the blade presses harder, cold and merciless at my throat.

“Understand, I have to,” he growls, his breath hot and reeking of desperation. “You’ll see. You’ll see it when she takes you.”

Ok, there's nothing I can do, this guy lost all his marbles.

And then, out of nowhere —

He’s ripped off me. One second he’s pinning me down, the next he’s flying through the air, crashing into the alley wall with bone-crunching force.

I’m left gasping, shaking, clutching the remnants of my torn clothes.

And standing in front of me... that dark figure. The one I saw before.