War of Warcraft is owned by Blizzard. I just use their races, classes and regions and twist them for my own pleasure.

Nahal hacked down another poor citizen that didn't have the sense to run. He was protecting his home and family. Fools. They would have a better chance if they ran. He hadn't been able to chase his prey in a long time. The death knight would give them a head start, but in the end he would prevail. His Master would have it no other way.

The voice inside his head encouraged him forward to kill more, blurring the rest of his thoughts into nothingness. Out of habit he took a breath as he turned away from the carnage he had created. His heavy boots thumped hollowly against the wooden floor, making sickly crimson blood prints away from the bodies. The plate armor scraped with each movement of the undead sin'dorei. The death knight paused upon hearing the softest scuff from the closet to his right.

Nahal shoved the door aside, practically tearing it off the hinges. The woman inside screamed, protecting their young behind their bodies. The pleads fell upon deaf ears and he ended the noise they were emitting. The crisp smell of blood hung heavy in the small cabin, the three bodies sprawled on the planks. The crimson liquid soaking into the wood fiber. He snorted under his helmet at the weakness they shown, they didn't even attempt to arm themselves.

The lich took a few steps forward leaving a trail of blood that dripped from his long blade, his movement stalled catching movement in the corner of his eye. His gauntlet seized a short table and it was tossed aside as if it weighed nothing. The young woman pressed her body against the wall, her eyes wide with fear as she stared at him.

"I am sorry, I didn't know you were there!" He had cried watching the blood flowing down the small pale arm, the girl that had been cut by his practice sword was crying. Those big eyes flowing massive tears that rolled down her cheeks.

"I'm telling Mother!" The girl threatened running under the short table in the sitting room. "You know you are not suppose to be playing with swords."

"No," he had called, kneeling beside the table trying to peer at her. "I'll do anything."

The girl smiled with victory.

Pain hit him in the chest, his hand slapped over his heart. "Pejah," he moaned as his will wiggled free from the iron grip. He fell to a knee almost loosing his grip on his sword, he heard the woman scrambling away. More memories started to tease his mind.

"Kill her. Kill them all. Show no mercy." Arthas commanded silently, strengthening the grip on the lone knight.

Nahal let his hand fall, he rose gripping his sword. The pain and memory wiped clean from him. He blinked at the empty spot before turning to see the woman tearing a books off a shelf. He marched toward her, raising his sword to hack her down. She turned and threw a book at him, the hardcover bounced off his shoulder and harmlessly slapped against the floor. He reflected another tome with a swipe of his arm which hit a vase to his left and both smashed on the floor.

"We can free you! You don't have to do this!"

"You will die," he announced, his voice echoing darkly in the helm. She merely stood there squeezing her eyes shut waiting for the end. Nahal granted her a painless one, he turned and walked out of the house.