18th February 1686

The world is full of creatures whom are considered inherently evil, to most these creatures are the beasts that exist by only consuming the flesh of others. To others the purest evil of the world prefers to shelter itself in the bodies of our own kind, the evil of humanity. Stimulated by fears and superstition which only breeds distrust and caution. The argument of which type of evil is most potent could and most likely has been discussed to death many times overs, with no leeway for years to come.

If only they knew.

That the world has been harbouring the creatures who created the essence of evil for centuries, that no matter how wicked a person can be, they are nothing compared to the source. This source is the reason why we humans in the first place began our vile thoughts and our negative emotions. In some way the bible is true, however overall it merely shows a sliver of truth to the origin of man. No doubt in the future others will try and disprove religion, and one can only hope that they collect the facts right. Through research it is shown that we all came from something, that the implication of all powerful beings simply originated from one all-powerful being, who is not God or any other invisible creator, but simply another animal that lives on this world with us. But not alongside us.

The original creatures of the world were large and dangerous, all fierce animals devouring each other to survive. All except one creature, a creature known and feared by us humans only through fable and religion. When the other animals all died only he remained standing, in terms he is a creator, but he is also a destroyer. In the time of Humanity’s awakening he allowed us to live, simply for his enjoyment. The information that you have just read will seem as though it does not piece together, it does however, for once the name for which humanity opted him you will understand why he defies and created religion, why he is a creator and a destroyer, and why he is the source of all that is undesirable in the world.

I can only present this information in a form of my experiences what I have learned personally, a diary in terms, but more so a confession. A confession of the sins that I have committed in order to prevent the worst for the future, and to protect those which I have betrayed.

I look for no forgiveness, only understanding.

In order for the innocence of men to continue I must forsake all of which I have held dear, sacrificing not myself but those who do not deserve the fate of which they were given. The creatures which I have created will revere me as their creator and destroyer, in a way I am just like Him.

I can only pray that if you are reading this then my efforts and sacrifices were not in vain, but now in the future they are no longer effective and He is attempting to return. My hope is that my experiences and the information that I have learned can be of some help to you, and that you are able to prevent the calamity that is Him. I wish you luck in your endeavours and will present you with some advice, victory can only be achieved if you sacrifice all you are and all you hold dear. I’m sorry.

Since the birth of civilization there has been a concept of the supernatural, creatures of the night, people able to perform miraculous feats, the presence of an all-powerful being that dictates all that exist. In truth these all exist though rarely seen. I know this through experience, my creation into this world was not at birth but at the beginning, when that man chose me. It was a random choice, he had reason why other than convenience.

My birth home was a distance from the nearest village, my parents made the land we lived on into a small farm. It is difficult to remember now, I cannot even remember their faces, simple blurs. Perhaps that is because their memory serves no purpose now, those people and that house no longer exists, both in reality and in my memories.

The day they died, flames encompassed everything. I was only a child but even then I still understood the impossibility of what was happening. The clearest thing that I remember about that day wasn’t the heat of the intense inferno, nor the charred bodies of my parents which had laid in front of me. It was the source of the blaze screaming around me, it was the man.

The man who punished me, punished me with death. Punished me with life. And punished me with pain. Before I didn’t understand my punishment, he never answered my questions. It was only until after that I discovered why I was being punished, it was only until after that I agreed with him. With what I had done I deserved to be punished. And so did everyone else.

Such punishments weren’t because he hated me or the world, I was merely another one of his experiments. He taught me many things in our time together, he held no mercy, no matter how much we cried or begged for him to stop. He would merely look at us unusually and say, “Not enough.”

Back then I thought that he was referring to that we weren’t grovelling enough, that in order for him to notice our cries we had to scream our throats raw. I though he was insane, I thought he only did this for enjoyment, I thought he was a monster. I was only partially right.

During my punishment, I saw only darkness and felt only the shivering sensation of cold on my skin. No doubt if it weren’t for the company of the others, I would have sunk deep into myself trembling in the emptiness of my mind. And he knew that.

He had done this enough times to know that in order for us to stay sane, to stay awake, we needed hope and someone to protect. My hope was Vincent.

20th February 1686

28th May 1670

I first met Vincent after I woke up, he hovered over me a worried expression on his face. The first thing I noticed was the lack of eyebrows on his face, when he saw that I was awake he smiled, as if relieved. This seemed unusual to me, my mind still groggy and incomprehensible to the situation I could only wonder why he was relieved, and where mother was, she always wakes me in the morning. My senses opened to the world again, my body was numb to the cold but I could still feel the dampness of the floor. My feet felt heavy and the thick stench of smoke wafted the air, the sound of someone crying filled the room. The boy moved out of my field of vision, when he returned he was cupping something in his hands.

In one swift movement he tossed it towards me, unable to react I took a cold slash of water directly to my face. I moved up onto my elbows astounded, giving the boy a dirty face I attempted to yell at him, but all that came out of my throat was a raspy barely audible voice, “What did you do that for?”

Shocked I lift my hand to my throat and thought, Why is my voice so funny? And why did that hurt so much?

The boy beamed at me again, “Your face needed water.”

The hand on my throat moved up to my face, despite being wet with water I could feel the rough dry and peeling skin underneath. Moving my hand up, I felt a lack of eyebrows and singed matted hair on top of my head.

The boy moved again grabbing a bucket from behind him. “Here.”

I moved my hand towards the bucket, but paused astounded at the sight of the mangled flesh in front of me, my hand was raw and bloody, missing parts of skin that now looked like charred craters. I just now noticed the intense pain that travelled throughout my body, I could only assume that it was covered in burns considering the condition of my hands. I glanced down at my body, but only saw an old moth eaten blanket covering it.

The boy noticing my confusion said, “Your dress was not in it’s the best condition.” My face felt hot as the blood rushed to my cheeks.

I felt a drop of liquid seep through the cracks of my closed lips. The boy sighed, “And I just stopped the bleeding to.”

I looked at the boy properly, the lack of eyebrows weren’t the only strange thing about him, his clothes were worn and ragged. The shirt which he was wearing was torn and scorched exposing his right hip and shoulder, his trousers seemed to be in better shape. However his face and hair seemed ragged, with the ends of his short chestnut hair singed, making one side longer than the other. This would have made him appear wild and unkempt, but the kind look on his face, and the deep calming blue of his eyes made that not matter.

The boy cupped his hands into the bucket, filling them with water and raising the fluid to my lips. I looked at him uncertain, he simply smiled and nodded. The water made contact with my mouth instantly cooling my entire body, I drank eagerly.

“My name is Vincent,” He said, “and that’s Andrea.” He gestured towards the bundle of clothes a few meters away. I realised now that the crying I was hearing was coming from her.

Vincent’s face had a sad expression, “She cries a lot after her turn.”

“Her turn?” I managed to make a sound escape my lips, my throat felt exceptionally better than before.

Vincent nodded, “When he hurts us.”

“Who?”

Vincent lowered his eyes to the ground, the look of fear on his face.

“The one he refers to, you will know soon.” A voice echoed behind us in the darkness of the room. Vincent stiffened, he began to fidget rigidly with his hands. I peered into the darkness in hope to see who said those chilling words, all that I could see were the shadows of the room.