A Lady Wronged

Me'agan's body lay shattered, wracked with the agony that only a wizard can bring, her flawless skin no longer concealing her insides from the world. Her eyes lifless and and now forever vacant. A magic that should have been intended for the prince regent Zarg-nar.

Zarg-nar wept a single tear, for the futility of it all. He knew his fate was sealed and though he knew not the manner of his death he knew it was an eternity from now. All the kings have their fates told to them upon coming of age.  Was it Fate that saved him for she has more torments planned for him or was it truly this lady elf, that had given him this gift.

 With a fury that matched that of the dragons that near burnt the world clean of man and demon's wickedness. Zarg-nar turned to pursue the wizard. At that moment he knew the wizards fate as certainly as he knew his own.

 Between him and his quarry stood what a man would call an army, armed with modern guns and armours. To him it was a red haze of broken smouldering bodies that time had not yet caught up with.

He walked back out into the warehouse pausing before the soldiers. Simultaneously they all opened fire. The glass behind the elf exploded into a hail of glass shards as the elf ran perpendicular to the line of fire, it followed him as he ran. Very few rounds found their mark but most that did were deflected by his armour or his fate.

The elf was behind cover. The men would have to advance to get another line of sight on the elf. An experienced man motioned for a unit to move up to attack and for another to follow. Upon carefully rounding the corner they saw nothing.

Their automatic weapons at the ready, raised up to their black balaclava covered faces, so they could sight across the top of the weapon. The little red lasers penetrating the settling dust..

They advanced forwards the lead man swept his weapon back and forth searching for clues in the broken glass, but nothing no sign. The others behind covering his rear and searching too.

In an instant a shape moved in the darkness across from behind one pillar to behind another. Immediately gun fire erupted but the guns would not penetrate the solid concrete pillar. They knew where he was they carefully manoeuvred using hand signals to co-ordinate their attack.

In an instant they sprung around the pillar guns ready, but no target. Nothing.

An order was issued to spread out and search.

The experienced man headed over to find out more as soon as he arrived he realised what had happened. Whilst they had been shooting at the pillar, he had climbed it and was probably clinging to one of the air-conditioning ducts as they searched on the ground. The ceiling was surely too high, but it was the only way.

Then the lights went out.

The dark elf silently dropped back down to the ground. Roughly into the middle of the rear group. Before any could adjust to the darkness. Two were bleeding to death with wounds inflicted by two of  their own combat knives, a third would be dead before he hit the ground a knife thrown in to his left eye, his hands clenched with the agony, his weapon firing as he spun round. Others upon being hit returned fire, some fired blindly, others shot to the ceiling in an attempt to wound their unseen attacker.

Zarg-nar spun around from one soldier to the next, using some as cover, firing the weapons of the dying and killing those that lived either with gun or their own knife and breaking the necks of the others as he danced between them weaving them into a bazaar tapestry of blood, broken bone and gun fire.

He was hit many times, what his armour couldn't deflect his fury would catch, the pain spurred him on. He would bleed much this night, but his blood boiled with so much rage that maybe even those splattered by it would burn too.

The warehouse filled with voices, commands, screams, terror but Zarg-nar was as silent as death brought by sleep, only his victims could be heard, drowning in their own blood or wailing in despair as death took them screaming to hell.

And then the room was silent. Zargnar stood alone, he bled but he could not feel it. He could not feel anything for his sorrow numbed everything.