"I knew it would come to this..."
His whispered voice cut through the night air like a sword through flesh. Suddenly alert, the man froze above his prey. The enshrouded figure stirred not at all underneath the rough blanket. Yet he waited, for what: he knew not; his condensed breath spewed from his mouth faster and his heartbeat pounded violently in his ears.
He was on full alert. Epinephrine shot through his body, making him anxious. One false action, one mistake, would cost him his life. Glancing skyward, he was in awe of the vastness of the void stretched above him. The specks of light revealed how insignificant he was - how trivial this sin he was going to commit truly was.
Slowly, deliberately, the man cautiously unsheathed the knife. It was once His blade, he thought as an intense feeling of sorrow cascaded over him. He used this tool to kill my family...
Hatred replaced grief in an instance. His vision clouded by bloodlust, he gripped the hilt with such a ferocity that he slit his palm and forefinger on the edge. The point held steadily at eye-level, he marveled at the vile scene before him. His lips curled into a menacingly grim smile as a certain insanity overtook his conscious mind.
The bloody blade shone menacingly black against the wind-kissed grass. A drop fell from the dagger and bloodied slightly the face of the prey. The sensation of warmth against the cheek aroused the target and as it began to awake, the sharpened tool was sailing towards the figure in the grass.

The blade hit the intended target with amazing accuracy. The wielder, having put all of his hatred and sorrow into the one blow, was shocked when an unexpected pain shot through his wrist and shoulder. An unforeseen event: he had hit a bone. Not fatal. The would-be assassin raised his knife, preparing to strike again. He was after blood; sticky, hot, gushing blood.

Suddenly, the blanket was thrown off as the awakened man swiftly went on the defensive.