Murder

I stand over the bloody mess.
It's a lump of flesh, its gender yet undecided. Its face indistinguishable. There is blood splattered everywhere.
I'm covered in its (my?) blood, blood paints the walls the floor the sky.
Its a red world.
I'm sure i've killed it, yet I can hear its heartbeat. Faint like the thunder of a distant storm.
I kneel over it and get to work with my knife. The point pricks the nipple reaching for the life vein. It inches deeper cutting through tissue, cartilage, fat, muscle till it finds the thin tube still pumping blood.
Or at least trying to.
The edge of the blade tears open the skin, blood floods out filling the space between the organs.
Its a mess really, a bloody mess and its not over yet.
Unbelievable.
The damn thing now begins to move, its fingers shiver, reach out to hold onto something that it doesnt know exists... its leg twicthes trying to get away from me, from fate, from destiny.
From death.
What next, I think. Should i just cut its throat?
Will that end this madness?
I'm not sure anymore.
What the hell, we've come this far haven't we... so now my blade rests on the slim neck.