One shots(?)

Oh.

Warnings: Gore, violence, death.
(I'm taking requests!)

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Oh.

Oh.

He pulled the knife from my lower abdomen slowly, the blood pouring out like a dam that finally got unblocked. His face held nothing, void of emotion. His once soft brown eyes are now a hardened and dull brown. He glanced down to my abdomen, watching it intently, watching as how my body slowly gives out. He stepped away from me slowly, a sick satisfaction seeping into his veins as he watched me become helpless. My vision blurred as I clutched my new wound, a burning sensation travelling through my abdomen and through my torso and into my legs. My head starts to spin as my vision blurs, he becomes nothing but blobs of shapes and colours. Black spots start to invade my pained vision as I feel the strength from my muscles give out. My knees become jello as I fall to the floor. 'thump' could be heard as my knees make contact with the cement floor. My head hangs low as I gasp for air and grasp the air to try and grab anything, or anyone. He stands in the corner, a charade of a mask playing on his face as he stares, though his stare sends chills down my already slowly cooling body. My hands clutch my wound as I helplessly lay on the cold floor. I can feel the warm thick liquid pool around me. The pretty red crimson colour seeping out of my now cold husk. My hands slip away from my wound and for a last attempt, I desperately try and reach out for him. I know he hurt me, but the thought that he wouldn't actually do it, That this was all a dream, that's what I hoped for, but the realization that this is in fact, very real shocks me. Though I'm too tired to move, too tired to speak, too tired to try. My hand falls limp to the ground as the rest of my body does, my vision going black. The last thing I hear is his footsteps coming closer, then walking away.

Everything's dark.

No sound,

No light,

No thoughts,

No feeling,

Just,

Emptiness.