Bad Taste There it stood out of the mans chest ,like a bizarre monument. Thick sharp and metallic with its wooden handle pointing in my direction like an accusatory finger. A tang of blood spiked the air and filled my nostrils as I watched a deep palette of red, blush outwardly from the area I was staring at dumbfoundedly. This was my first kill and the thrilling splatter of emotions rushing through my power engorged brain told me that it wouldn't be the last The colour drained from my face as my hearing returned from pure white noise to a cacophony of spluttering and banging. Apparently very much still alive, my supposed murder victim thrashed absurdly around the small basement. Eyes bulging with spittle flecking his chin making what comically sounded like quacking noises..god, that stupid knife still sticking out of his chest mocking my incompetence. I hadn't done it properly, it wasn't like the movies, this was conflicting severely with how I had imagined this scenario to be played out. I was suddenly very angry. A white hot burn surged through my forehead,little trickles of sweat beading on my forehead each one screaming its own little order. KILL HIM SHUT HIM UP Until the main organ of reason decided the next course of action and shut everything down completely. Feeling like a window blind being yanked downwards I felt the smooth stone hit my knees then my cheek, finally blackness.