I cried out and crumpled to the ground; a long, black knife stuck in me. Blood gushed out from my gut and my breathing heavy from the unbearable pain.

      No one was near to see my distress, no matter how hard I screamed. I trembled from the pain and the thought of death, the unknown.

     The cloaked figure who stabbed me, smiled with pleasure at the sight of crimson, staining my clothes. He appeared out of nowhere and sunk his blade into his target; I didn't know his reason for killing me, heck I never have seen him in my life:

       "Why....are you doing....this?" I gasped, "what wrong....have...I...done you?"

        The figure said nothing, only chuckled with a deep, dark voice, which sounded like five more of the cloak talking at once.

        Tears trickled down my cheek from the pain and my fear; what was to become of me?