It was a rainy summer day. Damien was roaming the roads of his mind once again. His father was long gone by one of those wretched bastards. In his nightmares he could see his father's body being burned and his flesh melting in front of his eyes. He woke up screaming in sweat. There was no time to lose. He had to go back. He had to find the murderer of his father. He packed everything he needed and left his haven.<br/><br/>The sky was red when he reached the forest. His silhouette was swallowed by the thick shadows of the trees as he started running into the woods. His steps were careful, agile strides. His crossbow on his right hand. The bolts were tightened on his chest and waist belts, all wet from the poison he used. It was his recipe. A poison that weakened the target, magical or not, so that Damien could take the last breath with his knife.<br/><br/>It was almost evening when he heard a beautiful voice behind some tries. He walked as silent as he could. Behind the trees was a big clearing. A place were covens of witches used to meet and do whatever twisted they usually do. He looked for his target. Steadily he reached for his bolt and loaded the crossbow. Slowly he aimed for the target. His finger squeezed the trigger lightly, but before the end he felt like he was paralyzed from a sudden surprise.<br/><br/>In all his years he had killed many magical beings, especially old ugly witches and sick, perverted mages. But what he had in front of him.<br/><br/>A flash of memory run fast into his mind. Eleven years before he took a life at the very same place. The life of a child. That was the day when everything that was left of his innocence was lost. Tonight he stands hidden in the woods. In front of him a woman, as beautiful as Luna herself, was chanting in front of a bonfire. Her voice was a sweet caressing to his ears. A soothing breeze in his darkened mind. «No, this can't be! Not again! It's not right! I have to kill her, take her corrupted soul and throw it back to hell! But how can an existence like her be something evil? NO! She's going to die!» With his mind feeling like being routed by a gust of confusion he lifted the crossbow and aimed for her right shoulder. He squeezed the trigger and, seconds later, the bolt was piercing her flesh making her more and more weak. When he thought it was safe, Damien drew his knife out of his leg-sheath and approached her. The cold edge of the knife kissed her neck gently. But in the last moment his hand started to shiver. The image was walking in front of eyes again and again. His right hand was lifted up in the air but when it came down it stabbed the dry ground while Damien was letting a long tortured scream out of his chest.<br/><br/>«Why! Why can't I kill you?» he shouted at her as his hand grabbed her neck violently...