Dear reader before you start reading these books heed this warning, these books follow my story, you may have heard of me before some call me The Raven, some The Dark Champion, some Death incarnate, some A Lost Soul, an abomination, a monster, a hero, a savior, an enemy, an ally, a friend, a rival, but some those close to me call me family. I am none of these and all of them I am the light at the end of the tunnel, and the darkness that looms inside of it, I am the friend at the end of the road that you do not want to meet. But I am neither good nor evil I am what I am, I am inevitable, I am a child of death, and one day I shall be death itself. So now dear reader you know what you are going to read, any priest, holy man, shaman, or any person that has a shred of faith in their hearts, that reads these pages shall declare me a madman, call me a heathen, a godless lunatic and then they shall burn these books and call to their gods to curse me to endless darkness. Know that these pages tell only the truth not a word I write shall be a lie, all I could hope is that you dear reader open your mind to truths so outrages that they shall defy all that you know and believe, you may wish to forget all I am going to teach you and retreat into your blissful ignorance, alas nothing you can do will help for even in death you will remember. I have warned you and told you the dangers of these books, so continue at your own risk, choose to listen to that voice at the back of your head and the depth of your heart that is telling you that what I say is true or forget you ever saw these books. I leave the final choice in your hands with these final words I bid you farewell or welcome to my story. A STORY OF DEATH.
Chapter 1
I first killed when I was still in mother's womb. That victim was my mother, some will say that I didn't have a choice I didn't even know what I was doing. They are without a doubt correct, but alas she died because she bore me. So, in order to save me the midwife cut through my mother's stomach to reach me and pulled me out. There were a lot of prayers to the holy father that night some to curse him for taking my mother and some to thank him for letting me survive. Alas I was still born prematurely, with skin so pale I could have been mistaken for a corpse a full head of hair so dark that it could have been a portal to the lands of the dead, and no breath to scream. So, you see while most births are joyous occasions that are cause of celebration filled with the screams of the newborn, mine was a sad affair with the only sounds that of my father crying over my dead mother and my own attempts to fill my lungs with enough air to produce a scream and a silence so overpowering by everyone there that it could be heard, all of this paled in comparison to the knowledge that I won't survive the week. After a funeral was held for my mother, my father never left my side he slept and ate in the same room I was in, allowing him to be there on the fated day of my death.
It was a perfect night, the sky full of stars and the wind murmuring the promises of the future, my father was asleep when death came knocking on the door, he awoke to the sound of a man calming me down saying in a voice that didn't belong in this world "let me lead you my child to the open arms of your mother", such compassion my father had never heard before and so he believed him that death is not a curse as he was told but a gift to return to those we love and had lost. But to go to death without experiencing life my father thought it would be an injustice for even if death is a land of peace and joy, life was the experience that allows us to understand peace and joy. This pushed him to speak and so with a voice shaking with the fear of the unknown my father uttered the first word of his end "Keeper", then Death looked at him shocked for no living being is able to see him anytime other than in their final moment. Out of curiosity he replied "speak son of Life".
"My son has yet to experienced life, but yet you seek to take him to your domain" my father said.
"Death is not something to be afraid of it is only the next step in a never ending journey, do not mistake me I am sorry that he has not been able to live but it is his time to move on and there isn't anything I can do, I came here for a soul and I cannot leave without one" answered Death.
"Then take me instead…the Holy Father knows how much I have lived, I made my fair share of mistakes, but he is not one of them and I will do anything and everything to protect him" said my father stroking my sleeping face, with such conviction that even he didn't know he possessed.
"She told me I can take another for a son of mine but never had I thought it would be so soon" murmured Death looking distraught, and exited "Say your final words to your child, and let me take you to your wife, she was expecting your son but she will be happy to see you".
Finally understanding the deal he made my father knelt down to my ears and whispered two words, "Live, David" and with that his body fell down to the floor while his soul took the hand of Death. What he didn't know was that in allowing me to live death had to exit from me and so a disease spread through the village poisoning the cattle and plants.
Now you know two things my name and how I was born, but I can hear you asking how do you remember your own birth? I answer you willingly and truthfully, I do not remember. You ask, how do you know what happened if the only people there where you, your father and Death? I answer you again I will tell you in time, when I found out about the fact that I had a father and mother who died to let me live. But that comes later in my story for now I thought you should know about my birth, for it will pave the road for what I will become in the coming pages of these books. Now I think you have had enough of the ramblings of an old man, and I will let you return to the story.
The next day, when my aunt had come to bring her brother some breakfast to eat, she found him lying on the floor lifeless, and so she dropped the platter she was holding and shouting at the top of her lungs that everyone in the village heard and came racing. I would imagine that the scene was horrifying, my father dead covered in the breakfast he was supposed to eat, and me the baby everyone knew would not survive the week, woken up by the commotion, screaming fully healthy and reading to take on the world. Everyone was confused by the turn of these events where the healthy man died and the sick baby fully awake it was as if I had sucked out his life and taken it, and in a sense I had, and so my father is the second person I killed.
That is how I went on to live with my aunt and uncle, a time that I remember as a passing memory, a dream that is forgotten once awake, but I remember some parts clearly. The parts where in the dead of the night, THINGS came for me, now I know what they truly are and they are called, TWISTED, but I'll tell you more about them later, for now all I will give you is a description that will feed your nightmares, they are between two to three meters tall with a hunchback, instead of feet they have talons, and instead of hands three claws each half a meter to a meter long, and there body is horrific it is as if someone has gotten darkness, spun it into cloth, cursed it alive and wrapped it around their bodies and these pieces of darkness sometimes open up allowing a red glow to shine from the cracks, for eyes that same red glow shines from two holes in their head, and they have no mouth. These twisted used to attack me leaving me with many scars, without my guardian angel- something who was able to protect me when the twisted became to much to handle. I learned to stop screaming whenever my tormentors showed up pretty early, for every time I screamed or cried out for help in a voice that didn't know how to do anything else, someone would come but they would only find me bleeding with no apparent reason and I could smell their fear at this impossibility and so they would take it out on me and start shouting if I'm lucky and locking me in total darkness if I'm not, all the while the twisted went back to their hidey holes, and my reprieve would be short lived for whenever the person that came to scold me leaves they return. So, I learned to endure in silence for my only friend and protector to come to my rescue. My first birthday wasn't celebrated, in fact it was the start in a long line of people rejecting me, in other words I was handed over to my first orphanage. I can only speculate why my family forsake me, I like to think that they didn't have enough to support me and had to give me to the orphanage in hopes that I will live better. But I know that it isn't that likely, and more likely with people looking at me with suspicion after the incident with my dad, the visits by the twisted, and the trail of death that seemed to follow in my footstep, they decided to get rid of me to ease their lives.
This transition was not all bad, because of one person and that was a caretaker at this orphanage called Olive. I think that she was one of the first people that truly loved me, I doubt that she is alive today but one day I will find her and thank her for all that she did for me. Olive took care of me when no one else dared touch me. She bandaged the wounds caused by the twisted, and saw a lost child with no choice in what happens to him, while others saw me as cursed and refused to come near me. I remember some of the other children, however their names escape me. There was this one boy that was between 4 and 5 years old his patron the Keeper of Violence and War. He loved to bully me when no caretakers were around, he would kick me and punch me, and he got away with it because I didn't know how to talk and everyone else ascribed it to my usual night time visitors. He would also make a point of not being afraid of me in front of the others to impress them. I do not know why, who could say what happens inside the minds of children. A memory that I remember clearly was, once when I was being assaulted by the twisted waiting for my guardian to come and protect me, my daytime tormentor came unexpectedly and met my night time tormentors, for some reason that day the decided to attack him and not hide, like was their habit whenever someone living came into the room. It was the first time I smelled that smell, that is distinct to those in extreme fear, the smell of sweat and piss mixed with a sweet tang that is fear- I later learned that it is not normal to smell emotions- later in life I felt as if I could not escape that smell as if I was trapped in a world that didn't know anything other than fear.
In that orphanage I also found my first friend that has stayed by my side all throughout my life and I would like to tell you the tale of our first meeting. It was a particular type of night where the stars and the moon hid behind a veil of clouds, plunging the world in a darkness so deep, the kind of darkness that breeds monsters and silences all life. The twisted thrive in such nights and subsequently my torment was more violent in these days and for reasons I my small brain could not handle my guardian angel failed to show up this day. With the vigor of someone recently learned to walk I ran and hoped that I would be left alone. Alas I was not so lucky, the twisted seemed to enjoy my feeble attempts to run and the screech of their voices sounded mocking as if they wanted resistance, they wanted some challenge. I do not know how long I ran all I know that at one point I was in a forest and the presence of the twisted immediately silenced all sounds except the scurrying of paws and hoofs running away as fast as their bodies allowed. That was the first time I knew fear, who would become a lifelong partner, and from the the corner of my vision I saw a darkness a shade darker that everything around, but once I say it everything told me that I should run away, that it would change everything I knew, however that darkness tugged at my being, the essence of my soul that could not be ignored. I don't not know how my life would have turned out if only I had turned away, I know that it would be different that it would be ordinary, but knowing all that I know now, being ordinary is something I wouldn't want to happen to my worst enemy. As I came near this darkness, I started to make out what it was, I would have sworn on anything holy that it was being molded into something I would find friendly, and finally I reached it and there, I saw a raven so black that the darkness around it was sunlight in comparison. I found myself feeling something I haven't experienced before, relief and a safety. I stayed there knowing that it would keep me safe, that by seeing it and finding it we had entered into an agreement it would keep me safe and I would be its companion. And so when the twisted reached me, it cawed in a sound no bird should be able to produce and miraculously they went away as if afraid of the consequences of angering it. For the first time in my short life I truly knew peace, and I slept right there in the forest with a raven sitting on my shoulder looking out for me. From that day forward we never left each other watching each other's back and I when I learnt to speak I named him Murtok and because of him I got my first name, a name that strikes fear in the hearts of men and children alike THE RAVEN.
I can hear you wondering through time and space how could a raven live as long as a human. I will tell you this even after I die Murtok will still be alive he is the closest thing to an immortal, and he will live without dying if left alone. We had a few close calls through the years but nothing that has claimed him yet. However I will not tell you what Murtok is, you will learn later what his true nature is.