The Pathless on Paths---------Chapter VII part 3(14)

Karrson could hardly breathe now. He searched his only free hand on the man’s belt, finding the
matte grip and sizing it. He pulled it out, and with what remained of his drained strength shoved it into the man’s side, the side of his chest, into his lungs. The man gave a horrific cry of pain, and his forced lessened. Karrson twisted the dagger around and pulled it out, accompanied by another scream of pain from the man. He was no longer pushing Karrson, but still he put his weight on him. Karrson felt the railing slowing giving away, beneath his hurting back. He brought the dagger up, and pushed it into the man’s thick and muscular neck. Just as the point buried itself into his artery, a great spray of bright red blood covered the visor of his mask, blinding him. The man cried no more, and his voice was reduced to a wordless gurgle. Still, Karrson persevered, and kept pushing the dagger in, until he touched a hard piece. The spine, he guessed. He gave the dagger one last shove with the all strength he could muster, felt it break, and pulled it out. The man fell silent. Karrson swiftly withdrew himself from under his body, grabbing his rifle, and slid back onto the landing. He could not see it, for the blood blinded him, but the railing, able to bear the weight of the strong and heavy man no more, finally snapped, and his body fell from the stairs, landing on the floor with a bam. It continued to bleed there, as his life’s blood drained empty and ran across the floor in a small rivulet.