What Do you think so far?

This is what I have so far:

Blood. Warm. Crimson. Red. Everywhere. It was all he could see. Everywhere he looked - red. Looking down at the delicate redhead with the pretty blue eyes that were frozen in shock, he could only see red. The red liquid pooled around her, making intricate patterns as it travelled down the damp and sordid alleyway. The smell of her strong lavender perfume mixed in with the coppery smell of blood assaults his nose, along with the putrid stink of urine and garbage. He reaches over with his long gloved fingers to stoke the girl’s headful of long auburn tresses. Bending down he sinks his crooked nose into it, taking in the scent of flowers before quickly plucking out a lock of hair and pocketing it. The girl had been stronger than she looked, her long, lean legs fast to react as she tried to get away from him. Silly girl, didn't she know that he got everything he desired; once he picked the one, they could never get away from him. He had to admit, the chase had been quite thrilling though. She most assuredly made him work to woo her; quite a change from the others that threw themselves at him. What was the fun in getting everything handed to you on a silver platter? He liked to work for it. He loved the chase, and the excitement that he got from it. The reward was even better at the end. As he had slowly slid the knife across her silky throat, he had enjoyed seeing the determination and fear in her eyes. She tried to fight him, she really did. Damn girl had left quite a lot of scratches on his back with her long nails, but her attempts were futile at most. She had fought with him to the end; he had enjoyed that very much. It gave him a thrill to watch her thrash and fight as he watched her cheeks go pale and the life force leaving her body. It was a beautiful sight to him. Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulls out a battered up digital camera. The bright moonlight shined down upon the girl, much to his advantage. Positioning himself in just the right spot, he starts snapping pictures of the scene in front of him, taking snapshots of the patterns of the blood as well. His face drops as he realizes he has to finally depart from the girl before someone sees him there. He presses his lips to her cold, freckled cheeks one last time. She really had been a fun girl to entrap in his plan. Pulling out yet another blood red rose from his pocket, he slowly lays it on her unresponsive chest and walks away, never once looking back at the girl in the back alley .

This would basically be the prologue. From here on I would write in the perspective of the murdered. I'm thinking of going the multiple personalities or bipolar disorder route with this. I'm just not sure how to start, so if I could just get some ideas that would be great. Starting is always a problem with me.