I lay here dying, bloody regret pouring from every gash marring my prone form. A wave of pain breaks over me, the world tilts and blurs, and I see the cutlass and its owner flash before my eyes. It would be so easy to just give in and die... No, I can’t die now, not when I was almost... I see her flash in front of these crimson eyelids now. No, there’s too much I haven’t done yet.
Battered and broken though they are, my hands clench to fists, and the pain begs me to scream but my dignity won’t let me. I push myself unsteadily to my feet, and I see someone else standing, covered in blood. I think he’s shouting, but I can’t hear him. Without warning, he shakes his head and I get a glimpse of his face. It hits me like a brick wall: he’s the man behind the cutlass. I wish I could get back at him, but my body can’t take much more. In some violent movement of his, I see past him. It’s her, face contorted with fear at the silver edge near her face.
Snapping is a curious thing; it’s like letting go, but not the same way when you die. Instead you just make room for the beast to get control, and hold the reins for dear life. My vision goes red, and the pain suddenly belongs to someone else. I can feel it, but in a distant way. Like I’m watching a movie, I see my body walk up to the sword wielder, grab his pompous neck and slam everything attached to it into the ground.
A glint of light hits my right eye, and I dimly become aware of the pain in my hand from catching the sword by the blade. I look down at the bastard, grab the sword lower in my other hand and get to work. At some point my breathing becomes harsh and bloody, and I realize one of my lungs has felt the icy sting of his dagger, but at this point there’s no control. I drop the reins. After a while, I close my eyes to what I’m doing. No matter what you think of a person, there’s a point where you can’t watch.
Finally, my body comes back to me, and I look to her with apology in my eyes. I see her crouched against the wall, blocking out what’s happening. Slowly, I stagger to my feet, and shuffle towards her, dropping the weapon as I go. The blackness that had been creeping in to my vision since the red had gone sees its opportunity, and closes in, bludgeoning me to the ground.