Dance With The Devil

I'm on my hands and knees, caughing up blood, reminding me of the crimson sky. I have so many cuts and bruises. I think I broke a bone or two. Maybe even my nose. I couldn't fall yet. Not yet.
"You can't kill me. You are too young. You haven't learned anything, have you?"
It's raining. Hard. The sky is covered in a crimson color. It smells of blood. The crimson rain is of blood. My blood. I'm in a pool of it.
"I'm not foolish" I bellow, getting to my feet, feeling nautious. I can barely stand. But I do. "I cannot die just yet" Narrowing my eyes, I wipe the blood off my forehead, flinging out my right arm at a thirty-five degree angle, watching the blood fling off of it, signaling that I was ready for battle to continue. I charge, kicking and grunting, Swinging my arms, using my emergency knife, trying to damage my apponent, but I didn't even make a scrach. I was at every dissavantage.
"You just don't give up, do you? You know you cannot beat me"
They said blood shed brought only more blood shed. You started the chain.
"I'm not going to lose!" I shout, finally getting a good open target, Running, and bringing my feet up together, slamming in his face, knife between my shoes, or what's left of the blood-covered things that could have been mistaken for rags.
I left a scrach. Nothing major though. I would have to do more. But I would probably bleed to death before I got another chance.
"Human, you know you can't beat me. You are a human without your 'gifts'. Just a meer human, with no special abilites, or anything. I'm superior to you. In all ways and forms."
Rain doesn't wash away your regrets. Nothing does. You made them, you deal with them.
"You are not!" I shout, as I launch at him, knife in my hand, cutting him on the side of the face. "You don't have the regrets that I have!"
Everytime you see blood, you regret sheding it
My apponent flings out their arm in front of them, and a force knocks me back, into a wall. Blood falls. I regret it. My apponent walks up to me, snarling, "Do you give up yet?"
"I will not die. I shall survive!" I shout, bringing up the knife, and sliceing it's right hand off, watching it fall to the blood covered ground. My eyes filled with the last bit of bravery, courage, and strength I had. They filled with regrets, and the ambition to win. Anger. Anticipation. Adrenline.
They said not to look the devil in the eye. Why did I?
I stood up again, and left all my feelings behind. I focused on one thing. Regrets.
I could destroy my opponent. It was possible. I had to foucus on the thing that only a human could have.
Regrets.
You started the chain. You must end it by dying.
"Regrets are what humans have that are sufficent to your being. I shall destroy you. I never needed power. I shall destroy you, even if it means loseing all of my power. You make me sick. I don't care that you are part of me, the seven deadly sins that I made. It's time that I move past that, and start over. You're my devil. Now go away!" I bring the knife up, and charge, filled with all my regrets that were pooling within me, changeing them, and pain into strength, courage, and bravery.
In the real world, there are no knights in shining armor. There's only knights in dark, black, blood-covered armor.