As far as I'm concerned there has always been evil in the world, my life is enough proof for me. I can't help but wonder at my own existence, to marvel at the pain that kept me here, the cold grey eyes and the merciless smile that left me here alone to make my way in confusion. The stars glitter over head, but their light is just as icy as the winter air that encircles me and entwines itself through my very being. I fear that the ice may consume me completely someday; perhaps that is why I have decided to write this, a record of my life, my memories. I can only hope that as you read my recollections that you do not judge me harshly for what I am and what I've done. I suppose the beginning is a good place to start so I shall start at the beginning in the middle of my tale. The beginning of a puzzle that would later help make sense of my erratic past and my first beginning. So onward we go, back to a silent winter night in a deserted quarter of distant city.