A rivulet of blood was flowing from my hand. It became a scarlet waterfall spilling onto the highly polished marble of the floor. I watched as the shine was obliterated. The only sound was the constant patter of drops faintly echoing off the ebony walls as my life force began to pool around me.

I began to shake violently as shock stole over my body. I knew I had to get the knife. On the third try, I got to my feet, shambling over to where it lay. The knife’s handle was malleable with the sponge-like substance that was wrapped around it. But there was no mistaking the razor sharp blade as a shaft of dim light played over the edge, illuminating the crystal point at the tip.