A Note From A Dead Man's Hands.

Chapter 1

Now before you start to read this you need to understand two things:

1) That the world you are currently living in is 50% a lie. The life you have been living has been sheltered from those that aren’t normal, those that are different and so you have gone around, living your life, in complete ignorance. I envy you. Partially.

2) I have never been, nor will I ever be, the “good guy”. 

That last point is vital for you to understand because what you’re about to read I can guarantee will not be pleasant, nice or happy in anyway. Except at the very beginning. Which is where, I guess, I should start. I could go from the end but that wouldn’t be “normal” in your human opinion so I wont. 

Now there’s a high chance that by the time you finish reading this it’ll be too late. That I’ll just be another name in the wind. Some poor guy you read about in the news paper but you don’t feel anything for because you never knew him. That’ll be me in the morning. Or the morning after. Or the morning after that. It depends on when they find me. But they will. My people aren’t known for their subtlety. 

But you have to promise me that you will read to the end, not just for my sake, but for your own too. Because it’s important you know these things. It’s important everyone knows these things. When you finish this you have to run and tell all your friends and then your children and then your children’s children. This has to keep going because there’s something more going on that’s going to affect your world, as well as mine, really quickly. 

I know you’re probably eager to know what it is that is so important that I’ve decided to write about it and, believe me, I’m eager to tell you but there’s a few more things I have to tell you about first. See that shadow in the corner of your eye? The one where you think someone’s there watching you but when you turn there is no-one there? See it? Well there is someone there and they know that you know. No. Don’t turn around and look again. It’ll make them suspicious and more likely to kill you. If you turned around just then I could suggest you stop reading now. You wont live to the end of the week if they’ve managed to read any of this.

I’ll explain about my world first. Then we’ll move onto yours. Mine is consisted of all the things you don’t want to believe are true. All the things that you like to read about but don’t want to believe. Well guess what? They are real. They’re real and they’re watching you. Vampires. Werewolves. Witches. Ghosts. Shape Shifters. Fairies. All of them and more. Real. Scary isn’t it? Well try being one. I’ll probably tell you at some point what I am but at the moment that’s not relevant. It’s more important that you listen. Look. Each and every one of us is assigned to one of you. For every human there’s about three of us. One to watch. One to document. One to decide. If one of us dies then they’re replaced within a week. We’re born with the talent.

What we are destined to be is decided at conception. It’s on our wrist. Watchers have an eye tattooed onto their wrist. Documenters have a Quill -tattooed onto theirs and the Deciders have a hourglass tattooed on theirs. It’s simple. What you’re born with you are. You can’t escape it. Unless you’re royalty. Then it’s completely different. But I’m going off track. Wait. You saw it move didn’t you? That thing in the corner of your eye. Your Watcher. It moved. You know it did. They know they did. They’re testing you. Ignore it. Carry on reading. Ignore it.

Don’t ask questions now. Things will be explained further in so don’t rush me. I don’t have time to be rushed. There’s a selected few who are born with a Shield tattoo. These are called The Guardians. Original right? Anyway these Guardians are born, raised and trained to protect the crown of each clan (and trust me there are many) until the day they die. To every member of royalty there are around five Guardians. It’s stupid really, to think that no-one dares to attack the royalty. I guess it’s just to make a point really.