If, after that, you turn away in disbelief, then I can do naught but smile and wish you well ā and wish, too, that I could as easily free myself of theterrifying spectres that haunt the events I am about to relate. The story I am to recount may seem like the product of some fevered imagination, but the truth is the truth and all I can do is set it down as bestI can, within the limits of my ability, and ask that you read it with an open mind. I had already known much hardship in my early years, but I had never before seen the horrible blackness of a soul purged of all that is good,shaped by resentment and hatred into something utterly vile and loveless. It will take every ounce of willpower I possess to tell this tale. Hand clenches my pen with such strength I fear it will snap under the strain. My God, I can still see that face ā that terrible face. The still-dark, whispering recesses of my memory.Horrors loom out of those shadows and my mind recoils at their approach. Pen in hand, my heartbeat hastening at their recollection.I hope that in the writing down of these things I will grow to understand my own story a little better and perhaps bring some comforting light to Iām going to tell you something of my life and of the strange events that have brought me to where I now sit, PrologueMy name is Michael: Michael Vyner.
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