It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.
Pain. Pain was the only thing I felt as my body was cut again and again. Muscles were torn. Flesh was shredded apart as if it were butter being sliced by a warm blade. The knife made contact with my bones on occasion, causing my attacker to twist the blade to dislodge it, causing me more pain.
I had never felt something so painful in my life, but what scared me was the thought of death. I didn't want to die. I didn't want to leave my family behind, I didn't want to leave this world yet. I hadn't done anything wrong, I hadn't done anything with my life.
When I died, who would care for my family? My family needed money, money to afford the means to see the next day. I didn't make much but I could get by, I could help my family get by.
I was going to graduate, and get a reasonably well paying job. I didn't need to make lots and lots of money, all I wanted to make sure my parents didn't have to work their aged bodies more than they had to. I wanted to make sure we were comfortable, I wanted to own a house. And maybe, maybe one day find someone to settle down with.
My dreams weren't anything that people who were more fortunate considered worthy to be deemed dreams. However, to someone like me, they were dreams that I didn't think would be achievable. I was born in an underprivileged household, my parents made it so there was always food on the table. Even if they had to skip a meal, or two meals or even three meals.
That's why... that's why I wanted to make sure they could live their last years in peace. But I couldn't even do that, just... why can't I get the chance to work hard.
I have no qualms with pushing myself, but now I can't even try.
I looked at my bloodied body, my arms were ruined beyond repair. I had been stabbed in the stomach once, and blood kept flowing out of my body.
I was going to die. There was no doubt about that. But, I didn't have to be the only one to die. I didn't have to die alone.
My assailant had taken my wallet. He was counting whatever small amount of money was in it.
It was truly ridiculous, robbing a borderline impoverished student for money. With my sanity leaving me, I fired up the muscles that still functioned and I performed a sit up of sorts.
Using the wall beside me, I stood up. My legs shook with each step.
My footsteps resounded throughout the quiet alleyway I was in. The drunk man that had stabbed me walked around laughing to himself, after all, I always had a decent amount of cash on me.
Hearing my footsteps, the drunkard turned around. He was an aged man, his hair gone and his beard grey. His bloodstained clothes being cleaned by the rain. The smell of blood filled the alleyway, as he saw me charging at him.
My legs moved with speed and power I didn't know they had. And then, once I had closed the distance behind us enough, I dived at him. My mouth attacking to where his jugular vein would roughly be.
Both of us fell to ground, he was in shock, but under the effects of adrenaline I couldn't feel pain. All I did was bite.
A humans jaw could crush and tear the flesh and bones in one's hand, something like the flesh surrounding the throat was nothing more than child's play for the jaw of a human of wanted nothing more than to kill the entity before them.
Blood spewed out of the old man's mouth as he tried to get me off of him. But it was to no avail. He stabbed my stomach and rib cage area several times, but I had a duty to fulfil. I had told myself I'd kill him.
And so I would, after all, I can't go back on what I've resolved myself to do.
Then, using all the power my body had to offer, I tore a part of throat off. Blood sprayed everywhere, as the remnants of his throat were a fountain that spewed blood.
Once I looked down at him, confirming his immenent death, my body collapsed on itself. Blood covered the alleyway as I fell, landing on the back of my head.
I spat out the flesh I was holding onto and looked bitterly into the sky.
I was going to die. There was nothing I could do about it. Resigning myself to my fate I smiled.
I had finally done something that people would hear about, even if what I had done was an act that was irredeemable. It was an act that violated the sanctity of life.
I had killed another human. However, I didn't feel guilty. Perhaps it was the adrenaline or perhaps it was the fear of my impending death but I felt strangely content with what I had done.
In fact, I felt pride.
Pride that I had taken from someone who had taken from me. It was not something I would've felt in the past, in the past I would've reveled in self deprecation.
But not today. Today, while I was going to die, perhaps a new version of me had been birthed at this very moment.
"If there's a next time, I'll survive until the end."