Careful where you tread

((same as before, a bit graphical and violent, depiction of death. Nothing exaggerated.))


The man laughed arrogantly, evidently pleased by the obvious display of fear in Laandra's eyes.


“Do you remember sugar, what we used to do to those like you?”

Laandra didn't move. Her expression was frozen; eyes locked somewhere far away to things the others two could not see. The blood elf made a move to grab her arm but he didn't get to, as suddenly there was a sharp blade between him and the object of his attention, a blade that forced him step back and then settled itself across his carotid.

“I’m not kidding”, Eireannan said, and his voice was as serious and cold as death itself.

The Sin'dorei stared at him in utter disbelief, his hand dropping to the dagger he wore.

“You’d kill one of your own kind over some disposable wench?”

“Want to try me?”

The man squirmed nervously, trying to push away the sword at his neck, but Eireannan held it in both hands and it was impossible to get away.

“ Ok, I ain’t touching your toy”, he conceded, withdrawing his hand from the dagger and stepping back. Eireannan had not yet made up his mind if the insult he spoke was not in itself a reason to take his head. He decided against it, though and lowered the tip of the sword, as the other one shrugged retreating one step more.

Then, suddenly, with a swirl of movement, the elf lashed at him, pulling out both his daggers and the cold metal tore at Eireannan’s shoulder, through the clothing, leaving a deep gush across his flesh.

Poison, Eireannan understood, as the sharp pain dissipated in all his tendons and muscles and he felt his arm instantly grow numb, dropping the weapon. The man moved around,grinning devilishly as he was searching for another opportunity to deliver a lethal blow.

“Such foolishness”, Eireannan calmly said, calling out something in demonic. The void walker sprang forward from the shadows with a deep, inhuman growl. The Sin'dorei jumped back to avoid the massive creature that charged at him to defend its master. The poison was spreading fast, together with a feeling of sickness, making Eireannan’s stomach lurch, as he started to whisper words of shadow.

"Suffer."

The man stumbled back, under the attack of the demon, as a scream of unbearable pain escaped his lips and he writhed, barely able to hold on his weapons.

Oh, so he was tough, Eireannan mused, forcing to ignore the numbness in its own shoulder and arm.

Tranquilien was more silent now, as everyone, Sin'dorei and Forsaken all together had ceased their business to watch the fight.

"Decay."

Blistered skin, turning dark as the evil energy consumes the tissues, eating right through the bone of the now whimpering victim.

The problem with fel magic, Eireannan thought, was the pleasure each curse brought to the caster. So strong. So addictive.

He shuddered under the rush of adrenaline and the powerful sensations that coursed through his veins.

"Burn."

A blaze of fire engulfed the form of the blood elf, as he still tried to hold on against the demon that pushed him back, towards a wall. There were screams and the unmistakable, horrible smell of burnt cloth and charred flesh. The man fell to his knees, unable to fight any longer, but still yelled out insults as he struggled to stand up again.

“Back”, Eireannan commanded, his tone again sharp and cold. The voidwalker obeyed, with another growl and withdrew, exposing the twitching body that lied on the moss covered pavement.

He calmly walked to it, after picking his sword from where it had dropped when the poisoned dagger hit him.

“Are you done?”

“I’ll rip you into small pieces and drink your blood”, the blood knight groaned. “You’ll beg to die. And she’ll beg too…after I’m done with using her body…”

Eireannan frowned, as he glanced back at Laandra who had remained still, unmoved throughout the entire fight, arms crossed at the chest, tightly wrapping herself. She seemed oblivious to anything else but the memory that locked her in its horror.

His heart nearly stopped beating as he understood.

There was the wicked grin on the face of the half-broken man that explained it all.

“I’ll tear you apart”, the blood elf threatened, staggering back to an almost vertical position. “Then her, again. And I’ll enjoy every moment of it”.

Eireannan felt anger raising inside himself, taking over reason. Persistence was such an annoying virtue from a half dead mean.

“Bash'a no talah!” he whispered in Thalassian, as he rose the sword with both hands and plunged it into the chest of the other man, so forcefully that he almost pinned him to the wall behind. The elf squirmed a little, coughing blood, then, with a final convulsion, went limp and Eireannan withdrew the blade, letting the corpse fall.

Well, life drain was cleaner, he thought, as he bent down to wipe the sword on the fallen man’s precious mooncloth robe.

So that was how they fed their addiction, those that sworn themselves to the Burning Legion, Eireannan acknowledged, with disgust. His arm was completely numb now and the pain was throbbing elsewhere, in his chest, in his head. The poison brought from the Outland was spreading fast.

Through the torture that released the untapped spiritual energy of their victims.

They fed it on death.

Disgusting.

That one at least found what he was searching for, Eireannan thought bitterly, but without any shade of remorse, as he sheathed back his sword.

Laandra.

She still sat in the same state of shock where he had left her; her eyes blank, staring dully at the nearby wall.
It was the same look he knew he had when memories suffocated him under their merciless avalanche.

He could only guess what she remembered, but it made him shiver, nonetheless.

“Laan”…

“Don’t touch me’, she said expressionless and Eireannan slowly withdrew the hand he had placed on her shoulder. Laandra shuddered and wrapped again her arms tightly around herself.

“Make it stop.”

Closing his fist, Eireannan suddenly slammed it into the stone wall and the sharp pain that spread through his wrist and muscles almost made him cry out, as he looked at her, then back at the corpse that lay a few meters behind.

For the first time in his life, he’d wish to raise someone just to be able to kill him again… And again. And again.

And enjoy it each time.