I am Distortion, and this is my puppet, Agro. He is the Son of the Dead, and I am his master.

My people are from Parts Unknown to those who do not know, or do not wish, to seek death. People who do seek death, though, might or might not know. It is all rather uncertain, a distortion of things.

As my name suggests, I am a distortion. I am not like you, you who eat, sleep, live. I am not dead, though, for if I were, I would not be here to tell the tale, I'd be somewhere.... Somewhere much worse than here.

I am an illusion to some, for they look at me, but do not see me. I am a harbinger of that which is, or might be, but who is to tell? I. myself, am uncertain of what I am or what I am to be. If I only knew....

Agro, my puppet, is my source of power, for without his power, I would lose my power over him. He is what makes me, me. I am because of his being. Together, we might be unstoppable to the majority, and vulnerable to everything, and everyone else.

I'm always cold despite wherever it is that I am. Summer could be peaking, but there is still the emptiness that warmth can not reach.And where there is no warmth, something else creeps in. Slowly, slowly, slowly, it comes. And so it will go, to the point that it takes everything. I tell you this: Do not succumb.

I have a story for the readers who have reached this far.

Once, there was a man who was, one night, very guilty for a sin he has wrought on someone precious to him. This wrongdoing, was borne from the cold heat of hatred and wrath that overwhelmed all else. Failed was he, he who could do naught but continue with his new-born guilt.

To be continued...