When the word “monster” was put on me, it may have been
written in a language I do not read, but the meaning was stated in clear terms.
This label was primarily intended to impugn and humiliate me.
Those who saw etched letters denied its
accuracy with vehemence. They said that man who did it was the monster and not
I. My beloved treated the subject with delicacy and has helped to tend the
marks so they do not endure as a reminder. Yet thoughts of what it means fill
these pages and the quiet moments when my mind has nothing to distract or
occupy it. Which may have been the secondary motive.
I accept that the priest believes me to be a monster. I
accept that others do not. But regardless of perspective, due to the gravity of
the accusation they cannot both be right. What I have written up until this
page examined the meaning of it in an attempt to understand and embrace
what is true.
Since my creation I was designed to destroy. I was
given Strength, Cunning and Desire to augment that purpose. In order to
live, in order to protect and support my love, I must end others’
lives. How honorably I choose to accomplish that matters little. How impeccably
I choose to dress, speak or behave matters none when the underlying Nature is
bared.
I am not ashamed of what I am.
Thus I conclude that on only one point do Darkbreak and
I agree. I am now, and for the entirety of my existence in this world have
been, a monster.
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