LEECHES . . . THE WORLD IS FULL of these damn creatures. Parasites drain the blood out of you, the very life and essence of your mortality. And what the hell are you going to do about it? —Let them? Not me. This godless world is already condemned to hell. They just don't know it yet and they can't do anything about it because they're still convinced that god will save them in the end. Mind me if I scoff?

And these leeches prey on the weak, these helpless fools who depend too much on faith. I'm not one of them. I never was and never will be. I am their enemy. I am the thing that makes them fear the dark. My blade is all they need to see in order to know what I am . . . or should I say, who I am?

You might be asking me this right now. Who am I? It's simple. I am the leech on their skin.