Prologue of “The Return of the Forsaken”

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I have spent countless restless nights, waiting, waiting, wishing for the end of the world. Wishing however is not the right word for it, since the word doesn’t cover it, aptly enough, the sensation, the burning desire that has consumed the best parts of me with it, over the centuries (or should I say millennia?)…Hell, it seems I do have lost my count after all! Worthless, futile has been this life, I know, I shouldn’t be allowed to live this life. I shouldn’t exist! Reduced to this weakling, I await death to come personally to drag me to hell, if there exists one, and yet, the wait is endless…

Am I dead? Can’t be, I am talking…but who is hearing? Someone definitely is…otherwise how would you all know about my personal rumblings? Am I alive? I don’t feel so…I have been hiding from all the world, people who are the off-springs of my own bloodline, in darkness, in shadows, I have been creeping around like the monster I am, watching my people die – in my own hands, some passing with time as well, perishing in bodies, fading in names… Watching changes everywhere, new lives, new faces, all the while I remained as I was. A stone. Harder than granite, I cannot fade. I cannot die. Yet nobody remembers me.

I am a monster, yes, I am. Suffering a fate, I’d myself brought upon me, cursed for all of eternity. I’ve just dragged on…without any family left, no friends either – just time and darkness, who’ve kept me company. But, I’ve had plenty of them. I have spent eons in my wait for the end, but fate doesn’t allow it. I have sinned, I deserve to be damned.

No, I deserve to be damned.

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