[ WP ] By morning , I was Kinslayer . By Evening , I will be Kingslayer .

A crimson fountain erupts from the edge of my ax, firmly planted in the skull of my brother, it rains down upon me and our fallen kin. A river of blood runs thickly through the cobbled streets as I stand utterly alone in the desolation of our once beloved village. The sun gleams through the evergreen trees, illuminating the butchered remnants of our people, unleashing a primal scream from within me. I can not forget nor can I forgive them for sacrificing my wife and daughter to the Ulek for some semblance of peace. My head pulses and my vision narrows as an all-consuming fire rages within me, desperate to be quenched in their filth and blood. I tread heavily through the forest with my fangs bared at the throat of our king, my father, the despot. 
 
 My path through the forest is marked by broken branches as leaves, smeared in the ichor of my kin which flows into the slight channel carved by the head of my ax. The wind whistles a dark and somber song as the trees tremble in my presence, a grisly monster with matted hair and damp fur stalking its prey. I emerge like a wolf, slowly and silently as I carve through the city, the townspeople wearing their ghastly masks, pretending that they had no part in this. Their nonchalance and denial serving as fuel for my hatred. In their terror and madness, they draw the guards from the palace, those that had a direct hand in carrying out the sacrifice of my beloved. 
 
 The guards file in one by one through the narrow streets, vying for their position in formation as my ax slices through skin and bone indiscriminately. The spears pierce my shoulder through the corpses of their allies as I use them as both shield and ram, continuing to push towards the castle ahead. Breaking through the clearing, their swords slash at my back and legs, as I swing wildly hitting anything and everything in my way. My innocent blood spills and mingles with their dark gore, a splash of scarlet in a maroon sea. At last, I stand battered and bleeding before the great hall doors. The sword of a fallen soldier in one hand and my ax in another, my foot collides soundly on the face of a door granting me entrance to my father's kingdom. Behind me is little more than a trail of carcasses in my wake. 
 
 Gold and jewels sparkle magnificently in the light of day, opulence and greed dripping from every nook and cranny of this forsaken building. Sickening. I leave the grandeur of the parlor, ascending the winding staircase, each step bringing me closer to claiming the king's head. Only when his head has been taken by my hand can my family be avenged, at peace, reunited again. As my feet fall rapidly along the steps, I begin to wonder why I've been met with no further opposition. No members of the king's personal guard. No butlers, no maids, or even servants have appeared before me. Only silence. 
 
 At the top of the stairs doors to the king's chamber lay in wait, easily broken down by my blades. I stand at the entrance covered in wounds and fuming with hatred as I see the king laid to waste by another. My heart sinks as I watch the manlike beast consuming the fresh kill, the sacrifices were for naught and my vengeance had been wrested from reach by steely teeth. It looked up with cold, unfeeling eyes at my ruined body and seemed to smile. I charged forward with both weapons ready, uttering my final cry, it merely turned and leaped from the window through which it came. I fell to my knees as it disappeared into the wilderness and wept. 
 
 -030
