Slayers - Prologue

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-SLAYERS-

PROLOGUE

Killers, they call us. And killers we are - me and my people. We are all different, but all very much the same. Like humans, we can die, but we are not human. We walk the earth as though we are, but if you see us... well, it may very well be the last thing you see. Our eyes are what give us away, and they are also our deadliest tools. Red, the color of blood, they kill any who look into them. We must be careful. Though we can not be killed by the eyes of our people, humans can. And if we do not mean to kill, we can not let you see our eyes. How can we hide our eyes? Well, you helped us with that, human. The discovery of sunglesses has saved your people time and time again, for when we wear them, our eyes are shielded and do not kill.

We train hard. All my life, I have trained. Not only do we use our eyes, but also our fists and feet. Yes, we fight. We do not use weapons, for simple objects may fail you. You can drop a sword, run out of bullets for your gun, but hands and feet... well, unless they are cut off, they never leave your side. They are weapons that security thinks not a threat of. They are the greatest weapons, second only to our eyes.

We are Slayers, designed to kill. That is our perpose. Never have we questioned it. Slayers are born of Slayers, never a human in the mix. Humans, silly as you are, believe in the fable of love. Slayers are not so. Love does not exist for Slayers because it is the souls of humans that fall in love. Slayers do not have souls. We are mere mortals, in every sense. Humans on the other hand are not so. They are seemingly mortal, but when they die, they live forever, immortaly. Whether on the streets of gold above or the flaming prison beneath, humans live forever. As I have said, Slayers do not love.

How then are Slayers born? We are not born as humans. We are not concieved in our mother's womb and born to the world. We are born of death, not life. When a Slayer dies, then is another born. Every second, there are exactly six hundred Slayers walking the earth. Why six hundred? We do not question these things, human. We learn them and accept them. Questions are for humans, not for Slayers.

Unless we are sent out, Slayers live together. But how is this possible? It may seem inconceibale that six hundred Slayers could live together without notice, but we do. The island of Grave is our home. It is a small island that humans know not of. I will not give the location, for once a human finds us, we shall never have peace again. Grave is home to all Slayers. Unlike humans, we work to keep our island pure. Part of our training is to keep our island alive. You wonder why killers would care about a mere island? We care, because life is a part of death. Without life, there can be no death.

We are not born as humans, neither do we die like them. If a human were to spend his entire life inside a box, - free of disease and violence - he would die of age. Slayers, however, do not die of age. According to human tradition, a person is an adult, grown-up some might say, when they reach the age of eighteen. That is when Slayers stop growing. We never reach eighteen. It is not because of death that we do not reach the age, but because that is the age when the decaying process starts. That is the peak of perfection. Once adulthood has been reached, it is naught but a downward spiral until death. Most Slayers are exactly seventeen years, three-hundred and sixty-four days, twenty-three hours, fifty-nine minutes, and fifty-nine seconds old. That is as old as we get. If a Slayer were to stay on Grave forever, he would do just that: stay on Grave forever. He wouldn't die. That is why we rarely get new Slayers. A baby Slayer is a rarity. In fact, one has not been born since me. I am, in fact, the youngest Slayer alive.

Now, I bet you are wondering who I am. I would be too, if I were as inquisitive as you humans seem to be. But you must understand, Slayers like privacy, always have. I will however, tell you my story. Why? Because I must. Because if I do not tell it, noone will ever know...

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