[Writing] A Tale into Insanity, story by me tell me what you think

This is a story that is a sequel to an unfinished story called the crimson order. I was going to make a game  out og the crimson order but my computer crashed and i was unable to finish it (or get a good start for that matter)

heres the story before this one.

-Click-

He stood and stared at the village. It was so like many others he'd seen.
"hey mistah" a young child pulled at his coat"You lookin' for' someone"
He knelt down to her level and looked her in the eye. She couldn'y have been more than eight. Her face went dead, color escaped from it, and her eyes went flat. He pulled his dagger out of her stomach and watched her fall in feigned pain. She had died on impact. He had been careful to slice through all of her vital organs. He stood up and surveyed the village again. Someone must have noticed the girl missing because suddenly people we're looking his way. He walked forward slowly, trancelike. He remembered his first time being in a real village. Suddenly dreathspa was by his side again. He was 15 again, lost in the waves of people, the exotic smells,foods, and music. Exotic people all talking in there native tongues
"No, that was a city."He was talking to himself again. He seemed to do that more and more often "This, this is a village" Two guards began walking towards him. Both were dark elves they were poorly armored. What armor they were wearing was put on wrong, they'd even managed to mess up the helmet, it was on backwords. One was immensely overweight seeming to burst from his chain hauberk. He Rushed forward his dagger out. He cut opened the fat ones throat. and tightly clenched his hand around the others throat. Smoke began to escape from his fingers the man writhed with pain, and his screams were cut off by the fire as his throat disintegrated. Finally the head rolled from his fist and the body draopped to the ground.
He looked onto the village....

Not as good as i thought i was, alright ill keep writing to spite you all. (lol)
on a side night my spelling might actually improve i upgraded to ff 2.0 and its got built in spell check!

He looked back on the village and tears burst from his eyes. What kind of monster had done this. Such killing as he'd never seen before. Bodies were ripped in half, mutilated past the point they ceased to be bodies but instead were just blackened husks or worse you could see that they had been human these were the worst. The ones that looked alive. whoever had done this new such black magic he didn't even know existed. The killer had left a select few alive. In a sense. He sucked there very souls out, leaving behind a husk of a person breathing and walking and performing the very most basic tasks. These zombies scared him more than any corpse ever had, and he believed ever would.
He searched through the rubble of the destroyed village.He found no survivors and gave up as the world grew dark. He stared into the village as he walked away fearful of coming into contact with the one who had destroyed the village and at the same time fearful of disturbing the ghosts of the dead. He walked for an hour in the darkness and finally made a bed under a large oak.
He was in a dark place. Surrounded by nothing. He swirled around looking for someone something. A stripe of white cut through darkness and out walked Dreathespa the same as he had been the day he had died dressed in the armor he had crafted with his own hands. Pure steel no color and no flare. Dreathespa would die before he dressed in armor the color of rainbows or shaped into pretty shapes. "Armor is for defending oneself not to be pleasant on the eyes" he would always say "But if these young lords and knights wish to be prettied up let them" He would always follow up. This Dreathespa was not the cheerful Dreathespa he remembered. This one spoke no words. Ho only walked silently Happy memories flooded Rezistiks mind and sad ones too. Almost instantly Dreathespa was only a foot away from him. A flash of light and another slash of white appeared in the black. Briana walked through this one. The Valyrian was as beautiful as the day he had last saw her. She was as wild as ever. Her trustworthy spear was in her hand as always. He was hard pressed to remember when he had seen he without that spear. He remembered every moment he had spent with her as if it had happened moments ago. She was less than foot from him now. Another flash and his parents walked through a slash of white. He remembered the memories he had for so long hidden from himself.
He looked at the four gathered before him They were all family. He loved them all more than life itself

Eons passed. All at once they drew daggers. Fine daggers made of the finest steels spell-forged and chased with golden-red runes. They held them out from their bodies. Rezistik was a child again 14 and his mind was full of fanciful stories made of knights and kings gallant and evil and of magic swords and wizards of amazing power. And then without warning he was as old as the world itself, and all of them before him stabbed themselves through their hearts.

All was white around him he was in a winter world cold and hateful.

this is unfinished. ill continue later until then tell me what you think please

Ok anyone who kills a little girl is a friggen ass muncher !

 youll see why he does it later i havent updates because of school

Tears froze on his cheeks. No. No I'm not supposed to cry. Im too old. Too mature. Too many things have happened. Ive fought it. Day and Night. There is no time for me to sit and cry. No. I must run on into the light. I must awaken. I must fight these shadows. I must not flee. He looked around and the white disappeared. He was sitting against a tree. He was shivering in the heat of the wind. He remembered the last time he felt warmth. The day the dragons had danced around him. The day so many had died for him. They had fought for him. He had lived with them. They drank together, and gambled together and whored together. Life was a happy drunken victory. Then they came. They were small and fat. The came on iron ships. They came with horses made of steel. They came with magics lost to the drows if ever they had it. The magic steel. The magic of the weapons they called rifles. Only two. It was only two. Two fat little humans. No taller that 5 feet and must have weighed more than a normal horse. They came speaking of treasons to an empire none had heard of. They came with warnings and they came demanding ransoms. I killed one. Yes I remember. I killed one with my sword of Draconian forged steel. He had laughed as the fat man had died and then it happened. The cold. His heart had been frozen. On the horizon ships blocked out the sky. the ugly iron ships. The other fat man. He pulled out his rifle. the ugly iron weapon. Using the magic of his rifle he killed. He killed my best friend. My  Wolf. My Raziad. The fat man he joked. He joked of making a pelt from my wolf. I dont what happened that day after that moment.I remember only waking amongst the dead. He was bloody. Dripping with it. That was the last day he remembered Rezistik. Rezistik as he was. Now Rezistiik arose. Rezistiik was the winged wolf. The warrior who had no heart. Rezistiik was truly evil. No not evil. Insane. Insane would be the best description. Now he was what he was. Though rarely Rezistik would surface and make sane decisions. Rarely Rezistik would surface. He had to in order to survive. Rezistiik would oft forget to eat. More often he would forget to think. Rezistiik was the incarnation of Raziad. a Beast in human skin.