A rusty and bloodied knife, aimed at her heart. The cruel weapon was spinning towards her, and, before she could cry out, hit her straight in the heart. She hit the floor with a wet smack, and rolled onto her side.
A pair of boots crunched their way to her and kicked her onto her back, exposing the knife, which a knotted hand reached down and tugged out, not without difficulty. It seemed the dead body seemed unwilling to part with it's killer.
Bloody red clouded the ocean, and, every tide brought the body further into the sea.
Soon, all evidence was gone from the once innocent beach, except the murderer, who stood, not a metre away from the small patch of crimson sand, gazing thoughtfully at the knife.
Eventually, he walked away, unaware that he was being watched by...