jaakkola:

You were raised with free will.

You fought for your people, you bled for your people, you died for your people, and as far as you were concerned, that would be that. And then you were raised for your people, raised for all people, because the looming threats were too great. You had heard stories of death knights, of ravenous, bloodthirsty abominations of men and women, hell-bent on pain and suffering. They were the dark horse that allowed for victory in the Northrend expedition in years past, and then they shamelessly remained chained to the mortal realm. And now you are one of them.

There are many like you, ones raised recently. They all seem as confused as you do. A few take poorly to the resurrection, and they lash out. They meet a quick end. You witness one of these ends, one trying to take down as many others as they can before they go out. Without hesitation, an orc cleaved them in two with his axe, though you catch the mourning look across his face as he murmured departing words in his native tongue.

Hunger gnaws at you. It’s confusing, it’s wrong, you don’t understand it. It tears at your soul, the pain and maddening thoughts only rising to a crescendo you are certain you don’t want to see. The only treatment is pain on the living, one of the older knights tell you. You must inflict some before you lose yourself to madness. It’s terrible, and you don’t wish to, but the relief that comes with your first torturous slaughter is addictive in a way you cannot ever find the words to describe.

The older knights speak of their will being stripped from them, so completely and utterly that sometimes it was hard to realize that they weren’t acting themselves. Their conviction was whole, the voice in the dark corners of their mind encouraging more and more. A few will be honest about the broken, twisted part inside them, a part that wishes to feel that control, that near divine devotion once more. They speak of it with disgust, but there’s still a hint of longing in their harsh voice, and you realize that incongruous gap is within you as well.

You were raised with free will.