The Pope tells me I am an angel that stole my way into this body . . . into this life. He says that I am no better than a demon. But he has no idea what might happen when I quit being an angel.
There is a part of me, which they have not seen—the part that I only catch a glimpse of when I am forcing my blades deep into the eyes of a monster; the part of me that secretly enjoys the fight.
If it is true, and I am no better than a demon, then perhaps I should show them just what a demon is truly capable of doing. If this black force exists inside of me, then I will harness it. I will call up the rage and the violence and the vengeance that has been gifted to me.
If they think I was dangerous before . . . wait until they see what I shall become. My entire life I thought I was chasing the darkness, but I was wrong.
I am the darkness.
I am the thing that chases the sun away each night. And when the light is gone, and when I have chased away the daylight . . . only then will they be able to witness what I can do.
My fight is not over.
It has only just begun.