[ WP ] Write the same scenario in 3 different genres of literature

`` What are you doing here?'' 
 
 The woman's voice squeaked as she spoke. The man stumbled through the doorway in a cheesy black tuxedo and cape, more fit for a waiter or a bridegroom than this dimly lit, shabby dining room. 
 
 She breathed too rapidly, almost hyperventilating. His nose wrinkled at her perfume, and hers wrinkled back at his stench. Without reason, she began running in circles around the room, looking over her shoulder to see if he would follow. 
 
 He bit his lip, panting a little, and chased her, staring somewhere between her eyes and her overly large breasts. 
 
 Round and round the room they went, like a toy train on its tracks, before she finally threw a tiny chair toward him. He stumbled, fell, and let out a grunt of pain. 
 
 She froze for a moment before continuing to hurry around the room. He chased her again. She squealed as he grabbed her, then sighed and fainted. 
 
 He looked around puzzled for a moment, then leaned over her. 
 
 & nbsp; 
 
 `` What are you doing here?'' 
 
 His earthy scent carried to her from across the room. It was unseemly to have a man in her home -- unchaperoned, and at this hour! -- but still her bosom heaved, hoping, praying that he would ravish her. That he would bring her body to life. 
 
 His eyes skimmed her neck, her throat. They dipped lower before coming up to meet her own. She pressed a hand to her heart. 
 
 Too fast! He would take her, right here in the dining hall, like a common trollop. It was unseemly. She began to back away from him. He circled the room behind her, gaze intense. He still had n't answered the question, but they both knew why he was there. 
 
 He was gaining on her too fast. She was n't ready. As his gaze fell to her lips, she slid a chair between them. Too hard! 
 
 He stumbled. Fell. She stopped to see that he was alright before moving away again. With a ferocity she'd seen only in her imagination while reading the penny dreadfuls, he flung the chair away and crossed toward her. 
 
 He meant to have her, then, here and now. It would n't do to give in so easily. She could n't bear to have him think of her as a loose woman. She forced her sigh of desire into a soft scream, and swooned. Perhaps he would carry her out to the divan. Peeking from beneath one fluttering eyelash, she held her breath as he lowered his mouth toward her. 
 
 & nbsp; 
 
 `` What are you doing here?'' 
 
 She whirled to face him, anger and grief writ on her face. His eyes slid down her neck, watching her heartbeat pulsing with her rapid breaths. Her perfume covered the scent of ancient earth that clung to him. Tonight, he would feed. 
 
 He stalked her. Followed her as she made her way around the room. His hunger was almost unbearable. 
 
 Razor sharp, his fangs began to dig into his lower lip. Their bloodlessness made him glance at hers -- lush and full. 
 
 Cape flaring behind him, the Count continued to circle the room, to capture his prey. She flung a chair in front of him from out of nowhere, and he stumbled, fell. His lack of grace humiliated him. Furious at her for shaming him, he resolved to make this hurt as much possible. 
 
 Weary of the game at last, he darted across the room, sweeping her into his arms. She sighed, screamed, then swooned in his arms. He lowered his mouth to her neck.
