For the first time, I own everything in this story.

I kicked my horse with my heels, refusing to allow the cool of the night air to affect me. I was fueled by my rage. My village was in ruins and my friends and neighbors were dead because of that demon and I was going to make him atone for his crimes.

With a burst of speed, my steed broke through the brush with a loud whiny, entering us into a great stone grove. There he was. In the center of the clearing, devouring the corpse of some unrecognizable creature, crouched Narok of Gar, the demon-wolf who had left my home in shambles. There was no mistaking his brownish coat matted with congealed blood nor the long, gnarled snout that bore down onto the carcass, stabbing his yellow, saber-like fangs into bloody flesh. The sight of him made me want to vomit in fear.

My horse reared back and kicked wildly, tossing me off sideways and, before I hit the ground, had vanished into the night. I lay there, exposed on the ground, enveloped by terrified silence alleviated only by the monster's feasting. I slowly rose to my feet, thinking that this was, increasingly, the worst idea of my life; gulping, my arm rose autonomously towards the massive sword on my back.

"Who dares enter my territory?" a low voice growled. The beast turned and he and I stared each other down, my grey meeting liquid blue. Abandoning his meal, Narok turned pushing onto his hind legs, though his fore claws barely got off the ground.

"Why have you disturbed me boy?"

My arms flew forward, holding aloft the ringing steel of my gargantuan, demon-slaying sword, its blade glowing blue in the moonlight. Summoning all of the bravado I could muster behind my safe-haven, I answered him:

"I am Estoc, son of Aeorn, from the Kingdom of Vale!"

The demon-wolf encircled me, his foul breath on my neck and his nostrils sniffing my hair. To my horror, he laughed a hard, raspy laugh. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" his voice sarcastic, "Why has this Blacksmith graced me with his presence?"

"Shut up!" I bellowed back "Vale lies in ruin because of you! You must pay!"

The wolf growled, moving back to his meal; "You should leave, young one. I'm not in a particularly foul mood right now. If you would like to wait I'll gladly rip your head off later."

My teacher had taught me to always wait and let my opponent make the first strike, but my anger welled up in my gut again and I moved. Drawing back my blade and bringing it down with all the force I could muster, I cried out in rage. The wolf flung back his claw, catching my sword and tossing me onto my rump.

"I warn you now, interrupt my feeding again and I will feast on you instead!" snarled the wolf dangerously.

Rising to my feet, my sword raised, I tried again. Flinging out my arms and rotating on my heel, I spun, using the weight of the weapon as momentum, like a deadly bladed top. Altering my arms upward and transferring all power into my sword, I struck. However, I did nothing but cleave deep into the earth; the wolf nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly a blood-curdling, angry howl rose from behind me, sending shivers across my body. Reacting on instinct, I swirled around dragging my blade with me; however, it froze as it became caught in Narok's massive claw.

"I warned you," he growled ominously "Now you will pay for this intrusion!"

That's when I snapped. At that moment I forgot my training completely, yanked my weapon free and began flailing my arms like an idiot. He stood stone still, allowing my blade to cut into him; however, before my eyes, the wounds began to heal themselves.

As my arm stretched out, he clasped his claws around my wrist, thrust himself forward and sank his fangs into my left shoulder. I screamed in agony as blood geysered from the wound. I was not spared any mercy as his fangs evacuated my body and his claws ripped across my torso, hot blood staining my pallid tunic thick crimson. As I doubled over I was met by a sharp, kick to my chin. From the pain in my mouth, I was sure he had broken my jaw, but before I could react, he grabbed my throat and squeezed tightly. I fought back, kicking and biting, gasping for air as he lifted me off the ground.

"You're out of your league boy! Did you think that I, the fiercest demon hell could produce would lose to an insignificant whelp like you?"

He threw me onto the ground, my head colliding painfully with the ground. I pushed myself up, coughing blood and spluttering for breath. I couldn't deny that he was right. I was in way over my head and my rage had gotten the better of me. The faces of my friends and neighbors swam before my eyes when it hit me. I had a too much to fight for to just give up, my mission meant more to me than fear of painful death and I was going to meet it or die trying. Using my sword as a crutch, I pushed myself onto my knees, and then shakily got to my feet.

"That's it," said Narok hungrily "Rise, we have only just begun!"

"You're right…" I grunted, "It's not over…until one of us stops breathing!"

Narok barked another harsh, raspy laugh.

"Let me ask you something" I said, "Why did you did you attack Vale? What could you gain from it?"

For the first time, Narok looked at me with a mixture of disgust and pity, as though I were some maggot squirming in the mud.

"I underestimated you, I believed you to be less naïve. I am a demon, the very spirit of anarchy. I do not need a reason to do what I do, it is my nature."

I clutched my sword hard, anger welling up in me again. To him, killing was as easy as breathing and he could talk to me so nonchalantly about it. I took a deep breath and exhaled, my anger controlled me once and I wasn't about to let it happen again. I turned my body sideways, outstretched my right leg and knelt onto my left knee. I raised my arms above my head so that the tip of my sword touched the ground.

"Yes" he rumbled, sinking onto all fours, his fangs bared and his eyes alight with sadistic pleasure.

This time I did not charge, I stood in that position studying his movements. His charge came swiftly and unexpectedly, his razor claws raised. But my offensive stancewas the perfect cover for my counter. I shifted my outstretched leg, so I spun into a series of evasive spins, a defensive maneuver. His attacks missed beautifully.

I moved back onto the offensive, I twirled into another spinning attack. He had estimated the attack and ducked his head; however, I thrust my sword in a violent uppercut, catching him off guard, tearing wolfish flesh with my silvery weapon. Working the momentum to my advantage, I spun out and thrust my arm, driving the blade deep into Narok's chest.

He roared at an earsplitting note, showering me in dark blood. We stood there, grappling silently, staring each other down hatefully.

"You think you can stop me?!" he thundered, "I am Narok of Gar! The Slayer of Heroes, the Snatcher of Souls! I will not be defeated here, especially not by a worm like you!"

He flailed his body so violently that I was unable to hold onto my weapon. Drawing the sword, stained with his blood, from himself and tossing it away: Narok pounced. With barely any time to stop him, I caught the wolf-demon around the shoulders but that did not stop his assault as he forced me to the ground. I held him at bay with all of my strength, but fear and panic were beginning to take over as his slobber dampened my front and his fangs snapped dangerously close to my neck.

In the midst of the struggle, I could see the glint of moonlight on my sword. It was feet away, just out of my reach. If only I could reach it, I stood a chance.

I had think fast, anything aside from a surprise attack would end up getting me killed. As I struggled to keep him at only half an arms-length away, I began fumbling my free hand around the ground looking for anything that could, literally, save my neck. Then my fingers curled around a large stone. Taking it in my right, I flung my arm and plunged it deep into his eye. The wolf fell away, yelping in pain; rolling onto my feet, I staggered towards the downed weapon.

Taking hold of the handle and freeing it from the ground, I turned quickly, swinging my arm widely.

I would never be able to forget the shrill sound of his death cry. With a flash of silver and a spurt of blood, Narok's body fell motionless at my feet, while his head flew over mine spraying me in his demonic blood, a horrible, resounding wail echoing through the night. I watched with a mixture of disbelief and satisfaction as the head hit the ground, bounced once before falling still once and for all.

Suddenly, the demon's body burst into flames and I fell back onto my rump with a yell of shock. The flames grew brighter and brighter with the rising intensity of the heat before, with an anti-climactic 'poof' extinguished, leaving nothing behind but a large burn on the ground.

I sat there, breathing heavily, still reeling with shock and disbelief. I'd only heard of demonic combustion when demons died, but I never thought I'd see it first hand, let alone cause it. Then, it hit me. An enormous grin cut across my face with a cough of shaky laughter. I had done it! I had killed the notorious Narok of Gar and avenged my home.

Heaving my hefty blade onto my shoulder and then back into its sheath, I turned away and left his pyre without any regrets; one hand on my bitten shoulder and the other cupping my inflamed and still furiously bleeding torso.

I ignored the pain I felt in my chest and shoulder. I even fought through the light-headedness, because they were wounds I could be proud of. As I left the grove, I paused and stared up at the starry night sky. My life had been forever changed.

Just a change of pace from my Zombie stories; this was a short story I submitted for college entrance. They thought it was good enough to let me in, I figure it's good enough to share. Hope ya'll like it, and don't forget to drop me a review.