"How did it come to this?"
She exhaled slowly, feeling the grass and brown earth acutely on her cheek. She closed her eyes. The ground beneath her hand began to become saturated and turn to mud. She opened her eyes. She saw through blurred vision that a ruby puddle had begun to creep outwards from her body. The sounds were muted, but she could hear them fighting.
Her breathing was the loudest sound of all. "How did this happen?" She reached out a hand. The two men in her line of sight continued to grapple. She saw the glint of light flashing off a knife. Their yelling could be heard indistinctly.
Her hand fell to the ground. The scarlet puddle continued to creep outwards and she felt very cold. Something big was lurking in the background.
The knife had pierced one of the men.
"Curt…" she said. "Why must it be this way?"
"It's for the best!" yelled a voice.
"Curt…" She struggled feebly, but the strength was draining from her limbs. "Curt…" She forced air into her lungs, feeling them fill with blood. Her last exclamation was torn from her throat as a bloodcurdling scream, past the crimson that welled in her mouth, spitting her life into the puddle staining her clothes, thrown at the two fighting men across the clearing.
After that, her body pressed into the ground, laying still. Black began to creep into her vision. Her limbs didn't respond; her lungs stayed deflated.
A small butterfly, beautifully patterned with red and black, hovered in the air for a moment before alighting on her finger. Her eyes stared straight ahead as its wings folded and unfolded.