Sudden white light streamed into the dank room through the opening door, illuminating the girl in the center of the room. Sitting on a dark oak chair, hands tied in an intricate rope knot behind her back, she was clearly terrified. The silhouette of a tall man cast a shadow that reached the end of the small room. The man wore a black pinstriped suit, the jacket buttoned half way up in the middle, beneath it a plain white shirt. His hair was almost as white as his shirt, darkening at the sides. The woman didn't move, her heart hammering in her chest, frozen in fear. The sound of his shoes on the wooden floor as he stepped into the room was the only thing to be heard. Lifting the cigarette to his lips, the man struck a match and lighted the end, smoke rising off of the wood of the match before he dropped it, smothering the flame with his foot. More smoke rose as the end of the cigarette flared, the man inhaling then tilting his head up to exhale, smoke graciously floating upwards from his mouth. The woman daren't look his way as she struggled to free her wrists from the rope binding her to the chair. A small whimper accidentally slipping from her lips brought the man's attention to her. His angled eyes narrowed slightly, his lips tilting up as he took another step toward his former girlfriend. She grew more fearful, feeling the weight of his gaze on her as she continued to struggle against the rope biting into her wrists. He stood with a faintly amused expression as the rope began to loosen, not attempting to stop her, even when she finally freed herself and stood, shaking. Gathering her torn dress in her fists, she ran barefooted across the room, his eyes following her as she reached the only other door in the room and began tugging on the silver handle. His footsteps echoed as he slowly walked toward her. Finally, the door sprang open, and the girl ran out of the black room into what looked like a garden, with high stone walls. Twining around the stone were dead vines with wilted ivy leaves hanging limply from their stems. The woman ran, clutching her dress tightly, across the dead leaves that scattered the floor. The leaves crunched as the man followed her, dropping his cigarette among the fallen vines lacing the entrance to the garden. The stone walls created a labyrinth, and the man knew every route. As she hurried hastily round a corner, he followed, his pace quickening to a fast walk. The silver hilt of his knife glinted as he turned, and with a smirk he pulled it from his breast pocket, twirling it through his fingers before dropping his arm, the small knife dangling from his fingers. Daring a quick glance over her shoulder, the woman caught the small ruby embedded into the hilt out of the corner of her eye, her eyes then travelling down to the blade. Her breath hitched and she turned into the first corner she saw without thinking, trying to keep up her pace. The man's dark grin spread, his black eyes glinting with excitement as he trailed the tip of the blade across the wall, walking past the corner she had turned at and turning into a later one. Noticing he hadn't followed her, the girl felt only a flash of relief before she had to again swallow the lump of fear in her throat. Now she didn't know where he was, but he knew where she was. Cautiously peering round a corner, she could see nothing but more walls of stone. She sensed something from behind her and turned quickly, just in time to catch the shadow of his figure cast on the wall behind her. She opened her mouth to scream but the sound was muffled through his hand as he grabbed her and pulled her round the corner. The knife rose in his hand then came down and buried itself in her chest, ribbons of scarlet immediately pouring down the front of her dress. Again the blade struck at her body until she fell to the floor, scattering dry leaves around her. A pool of crimson blood spread by her side, her face pale and lifeless, her body limp and unmoving. As the woman's body slipped from his hand, the man took a step back against the wall and slid down the stone to the floor. His eyes were frozen for a moment, his head foggy and dazed. His eyelids drooped halfway, the hand holding the dagger hanging by his side. With one knee propped up and the other leg out straight toward her body, he stared at her. The woman he loved, the woman he'd killed. Drops of red were splattered across one cheek and his collar, his fingers dark with her blood. Then his lips stretched into a grim smile before his head dropped forward and his eyes closed. "She's gone."