You were not good. Though it was hardly any fault of your own. How could you be expected to house any shred of purity within you when, even before your conception, your parents had already promised your soul to that of a monster?

Whether it was for power, or wealth, prestige or otherwise, you would never know. Abandoned at an orphanage in a decaying town far from civilization, you grew up in ignorance of the dark bargain that had been struck. It was only on your eighteenth birthday, when the orphanage cast you out, that Velinad finally manifested before you, claiming what was rightfully his; your soul.

A shadowy figure of pure malevolence, his arrival brought unimaginable massacre. Your hands, as if controlled by strings, drenched in the blood of those you once called family, your beloved orphanage demolished. For through you, Velinad satisfied his hunger for carnage and destruction.

He was like death in a way, but not the peaceful kind. The type of reaper that prowled, always walking alongside you, ensuring your hands were never too clean.

“I am hungry, human,” Velinad’s voice echoed from behind you. It had been months since you dared approach a human settlement, knowing what would occur the moment you did. “You are as well; the last of your provisions were consumed days ago. There is a town to the north. Go to it. I will not make the request so kindly next I tell you.”