So, i guess if you have come thus far i presume you would like to hear the story of how my being came to live on this earth. How i am what i am today, am im wrong? My mind tells me no, so please sit back and enjoy the show, you wont go hom without a scare.

Dead. The word haunted him like his past just wanted to eat away at his dark skin. Death, any form of the word deseaced, it just never escaped his reeling mind. Bloodshed, it never came as something new to him. Innocence, the look on the face of victims who were so honestly killed. Pain, and emotion carried heaviestly by me.

We were know as the Sumalu pack, my father Morineg, he was the leader of this pack. He ruled alone, for he killed my mother for betraying our ruthless secrets, secrets no one should ever know. The truth was, we kept the forest's in order, in other words were were a bloodthirsty and ruthless killing machine in which memebers consisted but the fifty's. We killed anything in our way, for our mission was to clean the forests of anything we found less then perfect, for we believed we were perfect. We ended up killing hundreds, but that will be saved for later.

My father treated my brutally. I was his one and only child, his one and only heir to his unrealistic throne. So every day from the time i could walk he tought me lessons, fighting, attacking, he even used real subjects, such as birds or rabbits, teaching me the essential ways of a killer. I grew older, stronger, more informed about the world and the ways it was supposed to go, equally my strength matching me up to my father. My father grew older as did i, making his strength evaporate. Little by little.

My father was honestly a great person, he was my life, my hero. But as his age frailed, and strength like mine fizzled he told me that one day i would take his sopt. That it would all be mine, that my future was before my eyes. All i had to do was face a simple challenge.

TO BE CONTINUED....