As I sit, staring at a blank wall, I realize why I am alive. The torn, thrashed wings upon my back, the scars across my face, the blurry but tormenting images are coming together. I must be a ruler. But of what? My brown eyes searched the empty, but memeory-brimming room to see a small creature by my side. Stella Yes. Stella has always been there for me, helping me through the toughest and most joyful times of my life. A tan hand strocked the small, hazel-colored rodent. I must become ruler of the mice. They mocked me upon what I said. They kicked and puched and threw me to the ground. No one was by my side exept for Stella.

Now people treble in fear at the mere mention of my name. A firey sword and a bow with a pack of darkness-inflaming arrows by my side, I sing the song of torture upon all who get in my way. The mice at my feet nible at other's ankles carnivorously and feed on every strand of hoep left in their bodies, reigning torture and pain upon their souls.

After all, I'm only returning the favor.

My santuary is hidden, and one who tries to enter will parish unless I gain them entrance.

"Death is but a shadow. It will creep slowly until it engulfs you completely. Then everything is smooth and painless."