As I twisted the knife further into his stone heart, his blood flowed freely on to the flagstones and my hands along with the blood of my family, most cruelly murdered at his hands. Fure burned red in my eyes, merging with the blood convulsing from his neck, throat, chest, stomach. I could feel the iron, bloody and bitter, on my tongue senses clouding over.
With a roar i drew my dagger away and pushed his still, lifeless, evil body onto the floor as the last of his life drained away, stainig scarlett the cold stone floor. The orony of cold-blooded murder ran through my mind as i could feel the heat of his blood on my hands, and the fiery burn of rage pulsed through my own veins. Revenge was bittersweet, it could not take away the sour gaping hole where my family should be.
