I had just awoken, squirming in my bed. I quickly lashed my head around the room, while wiping the sweat and tears off my face. I blinked a few times, before weakly stepping barefoot onto the cool, wooden floor. I made my way down the hall, still on high alert. As I thought I'd heard a noise, I whipped myself around with such force that it caused me to fall backwards down the stairs. I was only conscious for a few moments when I took another hit to the head. Not from the stairs. As I came back to reality I noticed the unpleasant feeling of gravel beneath me, piercing through my pajamas. I stood up, but immediately regretted it for I had a pounding headache. When I looked at the gravel it was covered in my own blood. I slowly dabbed at my head, feeling the thick, wet, blood that was streaming down. As I tried to run, all my legs could do was shake. I fell to the ground, and once again let my eyes slowly vanish the sight I was holding on the abandoned house. I awoke one more time, but this time there was nothing to notice...I was just laying in a cold, dark, empty brick room. The only light was coming from the open door, just up the wooden stairs. I stood up, and shockingly my legs, head, and balance were fine. I made a quick dash for the door, but was quickly stopped by a large human figure. As I slammed myself into the figure, I fell back down the stairs. The man was holding a long, sharp, cold blade in his hand. He seemed to calmly carve "Redrum" onto my stomach. Then finished me off with a slit in my throat.
