"Shiroi where are Dirk and Tiru?" Vene asks in a panic. Shiroi points toward the woods. Vene grunts irritably, "there's nothing we can do but wait, did he at least take Umbra with him?" Shiroi nods yes. "Good, then there is hope."

There’s a slaver camp nearby. I count maybe fifteen. A number insignificant to me. Tiru’s familiar voice cries out into the cool midnight air. Someone’s hurting her. Someone, no, everyone is going to die.

Even for a broken sword Umbra is deadly. I shove the sword into a Nord's back as I cover his mouth. It's quick but not painless. Blood runs down his legs and they go limp as I severe the base of his spine. Unkempt nails dig at my corse green skin as he struggles against me. I run Umbra’s jagged shattered blade across his throat and blood sprays across the ground infront of him. He gargles as blood runs through his fingers, his corpse twitching on the ground.

A second slaver notices me. He’s a full blooded neko like Vene. Short amber fur covers his body, and he hisses at me displaying sharp teeth and claws. I charge him in an attempt to take him out quickly before he alerts the others.

He slashes at me with the razor-sharp claws extending from his fingertips. I grab his wrist jamming Umbra into his bicep. He cries out in agony as his off hand runs across my cheek leaving four shallow cuts. I rip Umbra from his bicep, and he stumbles back holding his right arm as it dangles limply.

“We’re under assault!” He yells.

Men clamber to their feet in a drunken stupor grabbing their weapons. His feline eyes meet my gaze as a sly grin spreads across his face.

“You think you can kill us all you green pointy eared bastard?”

“You’ll never find that out, because you’ll be dead,” I reply.

He charges me swinging his left arm in an attempt to put me off balance. I toss Umbra into his skull splitting it open. He falls to the ground at my feet crimson fluid pouring from his forehead. Gripping Umbra’s hilt I place my foot on his head and tear her from his skull.

“Intruder in the camp!” A short thin elf yells approaching me with two medium sized curved blades.

“Where is the girl!” I demand.

He lunges at me swinging with a whirlwind of strikes. I block them waiting for an opening. He’s getting impatient being unable to get past my guard using two blades when I’m using one broken one. His footwork slips and I grab his right wrist. There’s a loud snap as I bend it back breaking it. He cries out in pain.

“You should never charge a warrior with rogue like combat, haven’t you ever read a tome, you fucking novice,” I yell nashing my tusks.

He swings at me with the sword in his left hand and I parry it forcing him back. He moves to flee, but it’s too late. I lean in gripping his throat with my left hand. His feet kick as I lift him into the air. Two more slavers move in as I crush his windpipe and his body goes limp.

Two down, thirteen to go. The world around me freezes for a moment and Umbra appears infront of me. Her midnight hair shining in the moonlight.

“My power is at your disposal, if you find you need it,” she says nervously.

“Appreciated, I won’t hesitate to call on you if the need arises,” I reply.

The flow of time resumes, and two men charge me. One stabbing with a large halberd that grazes my left side. The other swinging wildly with an iron morningstar. Dropping Umbra I grip the shaft of the morningstar and pull him closer thrusting my boot into his groin. He falls to the ground clutching his stomach as I grip the mace by its handle. The man with the halberd swings it horizontally and I duck as an arrow zips over my head.

I rise swinging the Morningstar upward and the jagged spikes tear through his jaw. Teeth and broken jawbone explode into the air in a spray of crimson as another arrow whooshes past me. I give the Morningstar a hefty toss sending it careening through the air like a meteor toward the archer. The mace slams against his leather armor and bones crack as his chest cavity caves in under the force. He lies on his back spitting blood in agony.

I retrieve Umbra and five men surround me. Only one managed to dress himself for battle. The other four are unarmored wielding short blades or hatchets.

“Say your prayers,” one of them yells charging me.

I sheathe umbra and clench my fists letting out a loud roar that almost stops him in his tracks. My crimson eyes glow as my body is enveloped in a dangerous aura. Mania sizzles in my veins as it seeks to escape my form. My skin hardens as does my resolve.

“Fuck, he’s gone berserk!” One of the men yells.

“There’s five of us and one o’ him, kill ‘im already,” the armored man yells.

The first slaver continues his charge swinging his short blade at me. I grab the blade with my bare hand and crush it in my palm. He stumbles back but I charge forward grabbing his throat. Blood sprays against me as I rip out his esophagus.

Another slaver charges me wielding two blades. I grab both of his wrists and place my foot on his chest kicking him away. The unsettling sound of ripping tendons and dislodged bones fills the air as his arms separate from his body. He rolls on the ground armless and screaming until I crush his skull under my boot.

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Two more charge me and I pummel them with the severed arms of their comrade. They too are no match for me, and I see the armored soldier rallying the remaining five slavers to flee. That’s when I hear Tiru cry out again.

I charge in the direction of her pleas to find a tall man holding Tiru to the ground. He looks up as she struggles under his weight.

"Leave bastard, this is none of your concern."

I step closer to him soaked in blood, my eyes glowing with berserk.

"Don’t bother begging for mercy, I’m far past mercy,” I reply the desire for violence echoing in every syllable.

He laughs. The man is larger than me, older too. He’s adorned in leather armor. The neck is wrapped in the pelt of a wolf that can be pulled over like a hood. His teeth are rotten just like his soul.

"This one is my new toy, she's so fresh and untouched, did you not like her for your own?"

I don't answer him I just charge tackling him to the ground. He seems confused as I bash his face in with my hands. I'm not sick like him, he can't understand that. Maybe after a few thousand years of burning in the afterlife he'll understand.

It takes Tiru pulling me off him before I stop. There's not much left though, his face is ground meat. A hamburger patty on top of a spine. If I had more time, I'd have hurt him like I wanted too, beat him until my anger was quenched.

Tiru tugs on my bloody sleeve. There’s terror in her bright teal eyes. Her hands are trembling.

"I want to go home, please take me home."

I rub blood on her face, "I'm sorry, I just wanted to protect you."

She wraps her arms around me, "I know."

Several more men run in, this time armored. No doubt some lowly guards patrolling the forest that the slavers fled to seek aid from. Soldiers or not, I'll protect Tiru, they won't touch her. Tiru wraps her arms around me.

"The only hero I have is you, don't let me down."

I push Tiru away and the first soldier swings. His sword cuts through the air like a razor, but I block his attack forcing him against a tree. I push his sword down grabbing his hair. His neck is exposed as I pull his head back. Leaning in my short tusks dig into his throat. His screams turn to a gurgling noise as I rip it out with my tusks. I spit skin and blood on the ground as he drowns in his own blood.

Another soldier moves in swinging a large hammer. I block with Umbra, but he forces me to the ground. He's pressing Umbra into my chest. I can feel the cut of the blade. Berserk has worn off and I feel drained. Leaning up I bite the fingers off his left hand, and he drops the hammer stepping back. This time one of the slavers advances.

I spit fingers on the ground and wipe blood from my chin. This slaver is a large female, I'll give her no mercy though. She swings a halberd, and I grab it. I pull her in closer before shoving her to the ground. She stabs a dagger into my side, and I grab her wrist and shove Umbra into her arm pinning her to the ground.

She tries to stab me again and I grab her hand with the dagger. Her joints pop as I crush it. She screams in pain dropping the dagger. I retrieve it and stare into her eyes.

"When they took her, were you just going to watch?"

She looks up and smiles, "yes."

I shove the dagger down her throat and hold her chin while she chokes on it. The light fades from her eyes slowly, maybe I could have saved her. Maybe I could have swayed her to our side. I didn't want too though. Sometimes monsters are best left to die as monsters.

The last soldier is the largest. He moves in with a massive sword and swings it wildly. He can't hit me though, I'm too fast. I kick him to the ground and Tiru runs up to him. She extends her claws tearing into his face.

Blood pours onto the ground as she tears flesh from bone, as she rips his eyes from their sockets. That's my girl, tear him apart. I step over and look down at him as he begs for death. Tiru moves closer to me wrapping herself around my leg.

"Please, take me, just kill me,” he begs waving his hands blindly.

"Tiru, should we give mercy?"

Tiru looks up at me and nods yes. I push her away and grab a large stone.

I bash his head into the ground until his heart stops beating. Tiru looks afraid, but she still runs back to me. She knows I'll do anything to protect her, no matter how brutal. She knows this bastard has her back. I pick her up cradling her in my arms and she nuzzles against my bloodied chest.

Me and Tiru return to the tavern covered in gore. Shiroi greets us forcing us toward a bath she’s made from a small stream nearby.

Vene grabs my shoulder, "you are a better man than I, my friend."

I look over at him.

"You were in the next room Vene, I was counting on you."

Vene hangs his head as Shiroi walks us to the bath. I hold Tiru close as Shiroi scrubs us.

"Lord Zoah, I can't clean you if you don't let go of her." Tiru digs her claws into me. "Lord Zoah, Shiroi is concerned, why do you hold this Neko so close."

I look up at her.

"My first, a neko was my first, she was an Imp in the woods, I kept her a secret."

Memories come rushing to me. Pleasant ones of a time that seems long past now. Pleasant, only for a fleeting moment.

Excited giggling.

“Dirk, aren't you afraid someone will find out?"

"I'm never afraid, and if I was, I'd fight not to be afraid to be with you."

"Oh, Dirk you're such a romantic, I'm just a half blood Imp though, who would want that as a wife?”

"Dahlia, I love you, I'd be the lucky fool that would make you his wife."

The mood turns dark, soldiers step in seizing Dahlia. Imps have an affinity for magic that the human races call witchcraft. One of the reasons they put the elves under fire.

"Dirk, why are they doing this, we didn't do anything wrong, Dirk I can't die I'm preg..."

"Dahlia, please let her go,” I scream overcome by panic.

“A witch is a witch, you’d be smart to clean your hands of this,” a soldier replies.

“She didn’t do anything, she’s not a witch, let her go!” I yell charging him.

Cold steel rakes the back of my head forcing me to the ground. Several soldiers surround me kicking me as they tie Dahlia to a post. My eyes meet hers one last time.

Unsettling screams and the crackling of fire fill the air. My heart feels rage for the first time.

I wake holding Tiru close. She’s the only comfort I have right now. She doesn’t hold back the rage though. I’m afraid if I keep down this path that one day I’ll go berserk and I’ll never turn back. I’ll become a mindless vessel for rage.

Tiru looks up at me, "you're afraid in your dreams, you move a lot, and you tremble."

I brush her hair behind her soft ear.

"I loved a neko, my first love, she was taken from me just before the Dominion collapsed, I think she was pregnant with my child, I never told anyone."

Tiru looks up at me.

"Is that why you care for me so much?"

"No, I care about you because I see myself in you, I feel you can fight, I feel you want to."

"I don't have a strong sword like Umbra, or strong friends like you, how would I fight?"

I pet her head.

"You're wrong, you do have us."

"Dahlia please don't go,” I beg.

"Dirk you are a wonderful person; I hope that there are more out there that can treat a lowly Imp like me so well."

"Dahlia you are the beauty in my life,” I plea.

"Dirk, you are my prince, you saved me, not from death, but from hate."

"Dahlia, I'll never forget you."

"I'm sorry Dirk, you'll never live in peace because of me."

Fire engulfs all without discrimination. Young, old, guilty, innocent, the fire still burns. The flames of love turn to a raging torrent of hate. Like the flames of love, the fires of hate are unstoppable.