It is the one word that can be used to sum up my existence.
I’ve been around long enough to know that this statement is true.
I was created into this world - not born.
I don’t remember my life before I was moulded into the form I’ve withheld for the past dozen centuries. I don’t remember who I was or what I was like.
I remember the darkness.
Waking up to nothing but the cold, vindictive darkness. It was the only thing I could feel.
And that was the only thing I ever felt as those demonic witches used me for their own bidding. Like a tool, not a person... a human.
I suppose I no longer was but that didn’t justify their actions.
But alas, every story has a happy ending. Mine was slaughtering them all and earning my own freedom.
I’ve built myself a name. A backbone. I built myself up.
But yet I am still surrounded by this suffocating darkness.