Title: Roses of Darkness
by Sam from Wiltshire | in writing, fiction
The alley floor glittered suddenly in the light of a full moon; the blood ran quickly down into the gutter as the two silhouettes struggled against one other. One shadow pulled back his arm revealing a large kitchen knife in his hand; he threw his arm forwards quickly and sunk it deep into the flesh of his victim. The victim, despite having a kitchen knife pierce his stomach, seemed to have even more strength, or determination and threw himself forwards at the killer knocking him to the ground.
The knife, which was knocked from the killer's hand, rolled to a stop at least a metre away. The victim clenched his wound as blood poured from the cut, the killer took advantage of this and reached for his knife in a desperate attempt to finish what he had started.
No! Shouted the victim as he lunged sideways to beat the killer to his knife, ignoring the pain he felt, he threw his hand down towards the knife and landed it grabbing the handle and lifting it to slice at the killers outstretched arm. The killer moved his arm quickly and the blade came crashing down onto the ground. The victim collapsed on the floor in pain, clenching his wound again, leaving himself open to attack.
He groaned as the killer picked himself up from the floor, despite his best efforts, he was uninjured.
The killer casually bent over and picked up the knife which laid next to the victim. Stained with blood, it dripped quickly off the knife and onto the victims face as he begged.
Please don't! Said the victim shaking with fear, You don't have to do this, you can let me go, let me live!
Well with the injuries you've sustained I don't think your going to live anyway so why would you want to prolong your death, lets get it over quickly, yeah?
The killer gave a grin and laughed before bringing his knife crashing down onto the victims neck. A river of blood gushed down into the gutters once again and the victims eyes remained open, staring into nothingness. The killer knelt down beside the body and laid a freshly picked red rose into his hand before closing it gently.
He stood up and looked from side to side to check whether he had dropped anything and seeing he hadn't he walked away, not caring about the blood stains that covered him and acting as if nothing had happened.
Copyright © Sam Caplat 2008
I love writing, ever since i was a child, i have always wanted to write plays, books, stories e.t.c.
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