PROLOGUE,         from me to you

YOU AND I are not the same.

Relentlessly, you pursue childish fantasies such as world domination with malicious schemes to get whatever you desire. You want the world to bow at your feet. You want people to cower in fear when they hear whispers of your name from miles away. You wish to see them scream bloody murder at the mere sight of you but yet you say you aren't as terrible as the tales people have told throughout the centuries about you, that they are falsely villainizing you because you are just so righteous— because you give them a choice: to kneel or die, is that right? You claim to be noble but we both know you are a liar.

You will never apologize for your wrongdoings.

You are a wolf in sheep's clothing, you are Lucifer disguised as the angel that once thrived in heaven, a bad apple amongst the good batch— you are the serpent that deceived Eve with venomous words that sounded so much like the truth. You are a wicked soul and I feel sorry for those who fall victim to your pathetic lies.

You and I are not the same...

I am not like you. Never will I chase petty dreams nor will I use fear as a tactic to get what I want. I am better than that— better than you'll ever be. I was crafted from the ashes of wildfires that burn for miles and the very magic in butterfly wings is embedded into my bloodstream to become something great and fulfill my duties as the person who will be your demise and I wear that title proudly because yet again I've shown you, I am better. In power and morality. Or at least that is what I'd like to say because to kill you I will need to throw my morals aside. I need to be meaner, crueler than the devil himself ever was to even come close to a chance at defeating you. I want to be the one to yell 'checkmate' when I finally put you out of your misery. I'd be helping you since you claim you've had so rough.

I will voluntarily be Eve and fall for your dirty tricks if I have to, I will be the first to spare a prayer to the fallen angel who was rejected by his own people, and then when the time is right I will bury you so deep into the ground no one will ever remember your name. And If I fail this lifetime then my spirit will come back to haunt you in another, then the next, and so on because that is our reality— a never-ending curse and I am tired. We are stuck in a loop of hatred that death could only save us from.

Yet, neither of us will submit to the other because we're too stubborn. We both pursue the beauty of revenge, and even as immortals, we are afraid of our own demise.

The allure of darkness is fatal.

It will be the end of me and you someday.

So I ask, are you ready?