I looked at the door, my rage building, just like every time I had approached it. Perhaps this time it would be different. I was going to kill him, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop me.

He was born the son of two no named peasants in some unnamed village. He was clever, though uneducated. He joined the army at a young age, and showed a lot of martial prowess.

He rose through the ranks swiftly as his ideas took flight and changed the way battle was fought. Within the space of a few years he had reached the highest station someone of his birth could reach. He was recognized by peasant and noble in equal measure.

He had a sort of magnetic charm that most folk who dealt with him were powerless to resist. Common folk and soldiers gravitated towards him unreservedly, hanging on to his every word.

He had his enemies, of course. No man with power doesn't. Most of the nobles hated his sudden rise to prominence, and viewed him with disdain. He, of course, viewed them in the same light. He didn't care for the nobility at all.

It ll came to a head one day. He entered the court of the king as usual. The nobles sneered and stared daggers at his back. He bowed before the king, and as he bowed, servants came out of the shadows bearing sharpened blades. The slaughter was immediate and total. He slew the king easily as he stared on in shock at the atrocity he had just witnessed.

All across the land the servants rose up against their masters, slaying most of them, and enslaving the survivors. The night became known as the night of fire, as many of the nobles died as their mansions and their wealth burned around their ears.

Of course, several assassins were sent to stop this new menace to society at large. None of them even got close to him. Somehow he knew, even without them telling anyone of their plans, where they would enter, what they would use, and he would place a trap there that always killed them on the spot.

Being an agent of the king, I was away on an assignment when I heard what had happened. I raced home to find nothing but smoldering ashes. I spent a great deal of time trying to figure out what had happened. I traveled the kingdom as a fugitive, one of the few remaining nobility who didn't have a master.

It took me several months to finally decide on a course of action. Several more to prepare for it. Finally, I was ready. I invaded the palace. When I got to the throne room, I found it completely empty. Not a soul stood inside. Enraged, I stormed to the nearest guard, and asked him where he was. The guard stammered that he had left some time ago for another palace, and he didn't know when he'd be back.

I threw the useless guard from me and left, heading towards the other palace. There it was the same story. It was the same for every single one I was led to, and I felt like I was on a wild goose chase.

I stood before the door, and charged, my shoulder ready to ram the door open. The door burst before me, revealing the standard empty room. I roared in rage at the sight.

I let out a gasp as I felt a blade bite into my back, followed by a chill as I felt the venom from the blade flow through my blood. my sword dropped from my hands as I felt my grip weaken.

I collapsed on my knees as my killer loudly stepped out in front of me. He stood before me, a large square blade held in one hand. And executioner's blade.

He smiled and swung the sword. I saw the world spin, and my body collapse on the ground, blood spurting from the stump of my neck. He picked up my head, and I heard one last thing as my vision faded to black.

"It was a good hunt. Pity. Better luck next time."