A crack rang through the air as his fist clanked against my jaw. I could practically feel the bruise forming, the pain overtaking my senses.

He cackled above where I lay, bleeding on the ground. "You seriously thought you could beat me?" The amusement in his tone hurt worse than the aching on my face. Maybe I really was no more than just a minor inconvenience to him.

I worked up enough blood-tinged saliva to spit at his feet, leaving a foamy, pink glob on his shoe. He laughed again at my effort, before slamming the toe of his boot into my stomach. I gasped as the wind left me, my already bruised rib cracking from the impact. I brought my arms to wrap around my middle, trying to protect the area from further injury, even though the damage had already been done.

He squatted down in front of me, his finger sliding under my chin and holding my face up. He snapped his finger somewhere above my head to catch my attention. "You are nothing," he hissed, a maniacal smiling playing at the corners of his lips. "You've always been alone, and now you're going to die alone, too."

My mind was already slipping into unconsciousness by the time he shoved his sword into my chest. I barely felt it as my eyes closed for the last time.