Red.

Flowing red...in an ever widening pool.

I think I killed him. I don't know why else he would be laying on the ground in a pool of his own blood. I don't remember doing anything, but there he is...and the blood is about to reach my feet. I don't want it there.

So I jump on the chair, and the blood swallows the wooden feet of my only safe haven. I didn't know bodies had this much blood in them... I can't get out now...he's between my chair and the door, and I don't want to step in the blood. I don't want to feel that vital liquid against my feet...