Begin the Battle!

The ancient wyrmwood doors crashed to the floor, torn off their hinges by a single blow from the holy sword-axe Ngrasil.

“Buryne!” cried Iander, his lungs aching as he strode into the reeking hall stinking of death, “Come out and fight me like a man!”

“Oh, I will fight you,” hissed a malevolent voice inside Iander’s head, “And I will kill you as well. But it will be on my own terms.”

Suddenly, Iander clutched his head with both hands, letting Ngrasil drop to the filthy floor. “Argh!” he roared in pain. A million screams echoed through his head. On top of the gale of screams, Iander heard a nefarious chuckle followed by the sickeningly raspy voice of the twisted magician Buryne, “Ah, not so pleasant to hear the death-cries of all those you’ve slain, is it, hero? Do you feel remorse now? Do you regret all the bloodshed you’ve caused?”

Howling in anguish and rage, Iander fell to his knees. His vision swam before him. He knew that if he didn’t break this magic spell he would be doomed to die on the floor of this cursed hall.

“I regret NOTHING!” bellowed Iander. The cries died off. The spell was broken.

*Note: It's been two days since I wrote a 101 word story, so today, I decided to do a 202 word story. Word.