I see the sun setting down the forest outside my window, while I’m surrounded by the loneliness of this house. I don’t feel pleasure from such a view any more; I stopped feeling any kind of pleasure. Sunset for me only means that soon it will be time to fulfil my duty.

I reflected on whether I should write a memoir for a long time. Those like me are not supposed to leave any trace of our existence. I'll take great care to ensure this is never found.

I told myself I need this. To make order within my mind, to reflect on all that brought me to this place. So I write this to spend my day, while waiting for the night to come.

I see my own hands. From there spouts the power that defines my existence. An inner talent given upon my birth, discovered far too soon. Even now I struggle to think of the man who showed me this world. The one who showed me what I am. And so I write this memoir.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Now the sun has disappeared over the horizon, leaving only its last feeble light. The pen that scratches upon this page will be set atop the desk and if God is good, so will my mind.

Soon I will go to eat, to prepare for the night ahead. Food is only sustenance, entertainment just a pastime. I live to fight what only those like me can fight. I'm told this is normal, I should feel nothing more.

If by any chance someone finds this page, please do not be scared of what's to come. I beseech you not to speak these words to anyone. Just know that our intent is the greater good. Perhaps you will have the strength to burn this story like I didn't.

My name is Hayden Darce, and to whoever you are: you have been warned.