I am Drezlin, the few people who once knew me called me Drez. I look fiarly normal, I dress modestly. Perhaps I wear a bit to much black, but other than that I appear to be just another human.
My long sleved shirts hid my scars and tattoo's my ever present shades hide my unusualy bright eyes. I keep them covered, it tends to unsettle people...
I have no home, if I have any family I am sure they would disown me on the spot. Again, if only they knew me.
My childhood is a chaotic controting thing that lingers on the edge of my conscious thought, the answers to what I am now are hidden some where in the murky recess of the past.
I live now, if living it can be called, for one thing and one alone. I kill people.
I do not select a particular type, I have no particular taste, and no discretion. I think of humans as one of two things, alive, or dead. I have no inbetween.
I do not kill for adrenaline, or habit, it is my purpose. My only persuite. I know nothing else now.
Only the sense of purpose that grips me when I am ending somethings life, it is not a feeling of god like superiority. It is merely the sense of right, that what I am doing must, and will be done. I am but vessel now for this, purpose.
I travel, with our destination. I kill men and women, grandparents and children. The rich and mighty, the crippled and lame.
I kill...
And my path may lead me to you.