My world spun. The ground dug into my skin as my body thudded to the ground. I could feel the bone in my jaw split into a fracture, blood flooded my mouth and soaked my tongue with its metallic taste. Demitri cracked his knuckled and cackled darkly. He lifted me up and slammed me into a wall. As my body slid down the wall he rammed a pitch black dagger into my stomach before tossing me to the floor in a spluttering mess. I spat at him. Bloody saliva stuck to his pristine white boots. His crisp unharmed clothes screamed angelic in all their white purity where as mine were drenched in sweat and blood, torn and tattered. My bones ached, my skin was on fire, everything hurt. I reached for the dagger concealed behind my thigh, hidden within a rip in the fabric. Its cool slender blade glistened under the moonlight. Its sharp blade had yet to meet with the flesh of a victim. “You think that’s going to stop me, sister?” he spat. In a quick stride he had his large hands wrapped around my neck, he dragged me backwards, his grip tightening as he lifted me off the ground. “You think that pathetic, minuscule blade is enough to stop me?” he bellowed. “No,” I wheezed, as I felt my body shut down from oxygen deprivation. “but it’ll make one hell of a distraction,” A loud bang resonated around us. Then a ting. Then a howl of pain followed by a string of profanities. I smirked. I reached for my sword and raised it. I knew then and there it was time to end this. Blood didn’t matter anymore. This is my story. A story of blood, battle and the rebirth of a legacy.