Prologue

Yes. It’s that day. The day all of you weep – whether it be because that you’re so in love with the Prologue that you can’t prevent it or you weep because you cannot fathom how deluded a person can possibly be.

First of all. Again, Merry Christmas to all and a Happy Presents Day to those that don’t celebrate the former. I got some great presents, and I enjoyed giving my family their presents. It was quite a fun night, I gotta say.

Ladies and gentlemen, dragons and zebras, cicadas and wolverines, I present to you my Prologue.

Prologue

 

As the pounding on the door grows louder, I know that my life will end today but I am at peace. I can’t help but think of the life I have lived. This life has been filled with so much death. I have brought misery everywhere I walked, he calmly wrote in his book, his penmanship neat and unhurried even though an army of jostling, bloodthirsty men at the other side of the door was about to kill him.

I find that my life does not flash before my eyes.  I guess that only happens right before a knife stabs through my heart, but I’ll know soon enough. My only regret is that they didn’t stop me sooner. No, I do not regret killing hundreds, perhaps, thousands, of people. This duty has been passed unto me, and I guess I am the single most hated man of my people. I have made blunders that shame the very power that has conferred this utterly petrifying gift upon me, he wrote.  He could hear yells for more battering rams outside. Soon…

He sat, surrounded by dozens of corpses, and blood covered every spot on the marble floors. The barricade on the door was near breaking point.  He thought he saw a flash of a face a second ago, but he ignored it for the moment and continued writing.

The irony is not lost on me; they kill me for they fear what I am capable of. The ability to lay waste to an entire race of people lies in my grasp. Why don’t I just kill this puny force of soldiers with my great power? I am tired, and I fear that they are correct about me. I may not be fit to hold this power. I might not be able to restrain myself if I keep using it. They may kill me, but they don’t understand that I will have a successor. My predecessor lived fifty years before me, and he was worshipped as a hero,  as were all the others that had my power. But, I am completely different from them.

I am death.

 

I cannot change who I am, but I can give these people a gift. To repent for at least some of my sins, I will use my remaining power to transfer all my knowledge to my successor. I will be passed unto his or her consciousness, but I will never let this person cross the line like I did. I will safeguard this person’s abilities. I must make sure that this person – the wielder of my great power, my fearsome gift – will renounce evil, and remain incorruptible.

He finished writing on the last page of the book. His life took up a hundred pages, but it was filled with nothing but death till now. He hid the book in one of the many secret nooks and crannies inside his Keep. There it would lie hidden, until, he wanted it found.

Some day, people would recover his book of death. Maybe then, they might understand why he did what he did.

“Ah, looks like my visitors are finally arriving,” he said, smiling.

The large door split into two, and for a moment, the heavily armored men did not move. Breathing heavily, they stared at the man they came to kill.

“It seems that I finally get to taste your cold embrace, old friend,” he said, referring to his timeless companion throughout his life: death.

He walked toward them, almost lazily, casually side stepping the bodies strewn around, even as the soldiers rushed forward to meet him.

I guess they are happy to see me.

What do you all think? If you’ve any questions about it, feel free to ask. I enjoy being asked questions about my writings because it makes me feel like a bona fide author talking to a bunch of infidels that have the gall to speak to me directly! Oh, kidding. But please, comment. Also, I don’t want to mislead any of you. I don’t actually write like that. No. My family edited it, and replaced everything I wrote with much prettier words. I just don’t want all of you to suddenly think I’m some sort of a masterful wordsmith. I really owe it all to my family, and my eight mistresses.

Sarah, Michelle, Alexandra, Drew, Carrie, Liz, Shona, and Christie – the times we shared helped me get through this book. Also, I’m cheating on all of you. But I really want to thank you all for still not leaving me.

By the way. The beginning is slightly more different than the edited version. You see, I wasn’t lying when I said my family edited it. I changed the first sentence (which was edited) back to the original because I felt it was more natural. Of course, I could just be biased, so I’ll throw in the edited version of the first sentence as well. Please comment and tell me which you think is best. Thank you.

Edited version:

The pounding on the door grows louder. I know that my life will end today but I am at peace. I can’t help but think of the life I have lived

~J.A. Romano

 

 PS: To anyone that’s wondering how on Earth I could trust perfect strangers with the Prologue of my book, it’s because I have a copyright on it. So, no need to comment and warn me about the dangerous folks hiding amongst the shadows, ey? By the way, I will most likely post the first chapter of my book on New Years Eve. Yeah, I have a habit for going out with a bang. Literally. Once again, comment – even if you hate it. Just comment so I can know to sue you for libel, slander, defamation of-

I’ll stop there. But you get the hint, don’t you?