With cruel delight, Zenveil could see the fear in the annoying hazardous orc's eyes.
It was intoxicating, a delicious thrill that sent shivers of pleasure down Zenveil's spine. But it's not enough, he wanted Volk to be fully consumed by fear and turn into his normal Orc form!
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, sinister whisper that echoed through the cavern like a death knell.
"Thank me," Zenveil hissed, his words laced with venom.
"Thank me for what I've done for you, little green buzzwark. You should be on your knees, groveling in gratitude for the mercy I've shown.
"Do you know why you're still alive? Why are you still standing in your Grum-gar form when all your comrades have reverted back to their pathetic, weak selves?"
Volk's mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear, his thoughts too jumbled to form a coherent response.
His heart pounded in his chest, with rapid thudding drowning out all rational thought.
