The Carnage That Fuels My Desire

As I walk through the battlefield, my heavy plated armor a stark reminder of the carnage that lies within, I feel a sense of liberation that few others can understand. The stench of blood and sweat, the cries of the dying, it’s a symphony that I’ve grown to love. It’s a reminder that I’m not just a warrior, but a vessel for the God of Blood’s power. And with that power comes a hunger, a hunger that can only be satiated by the destruction of all that is weak and pitiful.

People often ask me how I can be so calm, so collected, in the midst of such chaos. They don’t understand that this is what I was born for, to unleash the fury of the God of Blood upon the world. And it’s not just the physical act of combat that gets me off, it’s the emotional high that comes with it. The thrill of victory, the rush of adrenaline, it’s a feeling that’s hard to describe, but it’s one that I crave more and more with each passing day.

Some might say that I’m a monster, a creature driven by a lust for blood and destruction. And they’re not wrong. But I’d rather be a monster than a weak, pitiful thing that cowers in the face of adversity. I’d rather be a force of nature, a storm that rages across the battlefield, leaving destruction and chaos in my wake. And if that means that I have to bathe in the blood of my enemies, so be it. It’s a small price to pay for the power and the freedom that comes with being a vessel for the God of Blood.