Okay so this is a prelude to a story I've been thinking about. :D
Tell me if it's good, please!!!

There I was, on the ground, looking up at my maker. I knew I wouldn't get out of this alive. It's impossible after so many brushes with this dashing woman we call Death. Too much effort has been put into the ones before. I'm now out of determination.

She looks down at me, her spiked stiletto crushing into my shoulderblade. "Don't think you'll run again, pest. You've done nothing but try to bring me down, and after all I've done for you! I made you beautiful.. I gave you back life," she whispered, shoving the spike harder into me. I didn't utter a word, but I knew she saw the cringe in my face.

"I never asked for you to reanimate me," I replied, "All you've done is made me want to reveal how much of a sadistic bitch you really are." I struggled against her weight, giving in and trying once more.
She let out a sweet laugh, like bells; it sends chills down my spine.

"Never again will you be my problem." Right then she aimed the pistol towards me, pulling the trigger. I was instantly numb in my legs, then the excruciating pain came afterwards. I couldn't move, though I tried. By the time I saw her step away my vision was blurring; I've lost too much blood. I closed my eyes and let the pool accumulate.