The Real Killer

Phoenicia Firea. It was the name I had been born with. I knew this by what had been burned into my skin, the scars almost faded but the memory of them imprinted in my brain. I didn’t know who my parents were, and I didn’t know where I came from or what I was doing in this world. All I knew was one thing; kill anything that gets in my way. I say anything because of the world I was in. It was full of things that wanted to kill me or turn me. Zombies, vampires, werewolves, demons, all the things that went bump in the night. It was the world I had lived in for eighteen years, and it was all fixing to change.

I knew my abilities were strong, and I was destined for some kind of greatness, but with only written guide from my protector, I may never reach what I had been destined to. In a world where everything can be your enemy, its hard to find someone to trust. Maybe I had done just that when I came across another being just like me, or maybe I had just created my own spot against the things I was trying to save myself from.