Down But Not Out

I stood there, shaking. The blood. So much blood, covering my forearms, my pants, smeared down the front of my shirt. A sob erupted in my throat, choking me and causing tears to blind my eyes. I looked up, and through the tears, I saw my sister, smirking at me like this was all still a game.
"See? I told you that you couldn't hold up," she stated smugly, still smirking. "You're weak, just like everyone else here."
My despair dissolved into rage. She was the one who caused all of this; she made me do it.
As if reading my thoughts, she laughs, "And don't give me that look. You were the one that did it. I just," she flicks her fingers, as if brushing away some invisible dust. "Pushed you a little."
Then her face grew hard, and she threw the towel that she held in her other hand at me.
"Now clean yourself up," her stony glare centered onto my face. "We have many more before we're finished."
"Wh-when will we be finished?" I ventured as I wiped the deep red blood off of my arm.
With lightening quick speed, my sister rushed to where she was only an arm's length away from me, and dragged me through the pool of someone else's life until I was only inches away from her face.
"We're finished," she breathed. "When I say we are. Got it?"
With only being able to nod silently, she smirked again, and released me, causing me to stumble back, almost tripping over the body that now laid on the ground, staining the soil with the liquids that slowly flowed from it.
"Move. They might spot you if you're out in the open like this."
Those were her last words before she faded into the shadows, leaving me alone to complete the wiping off of the blood, dropping the towel in the shape of a heart on the victim's chest, and running after her. Running where, I never know. But I do know that where we're going, is where we're going to kill next.