Author's Note: In this piece I used imagery and figurative language like similes and metaphors to really set the mood of suspense.
The steel glinting in the gloved hand of a killer. The black trench coat holding death inside. Was this it, was the man was to finish my like this. I try to run but my feet are cement blocks. I try to swing but my arms are dead weight. There is nothing to do but accept death. The man swings the dagger in an arc driving it deep into my chest. Blood pouring out of me like rain. Leaving it there for me to suffer. I collapse to the ground trying to keep my grip on life as death tries to pull it away. I pull the dagger out of my body knowing I have only seconds left. Dagger in hand I throw it with all the life I have sticking it into the back of the killers head. Death drags me away as I watch the man fall like a stone.
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