I am the controller, almost the most powerful being to exist. I control the sharpest fear of just about any person: Death. You could say I am Death, for nothing else am I called. I have a physical body, yes I do, but I am a spirit. I can float around in space, and you would never know. Until it's too late. Yes, this is why I am the most powerful - I literally control death. I choose who dies, and I choose who doesn't. Some might call me an angel, and most might call me a demon, but I am just like everyone else: Human. Or at least I was.

I was born as a human, from my mother's womb, and I was normal. Then I was changed. I met my enemy. I wasn't even a teenager, and I knew who would be my nemesis in life. He was my opposite: fair-haired, brilliant, and commanded all attention. He was my elder, but that didn't make me any weaker. I knew he would be my ending, so I ended him first. At twelve years old, I committed murder. And before anyone found out, I committed suicide.

I became a sort of... ghost, I believe. And I had been condemned to eternal suffering, but I had found a way out. I found Maureen.

Maureen, though, was not a human. She is, in fact, a rabbit. A little baby bunny-rabbit. But maybe not so little. She was wandering around, in the so-called "Underworld". She saved me, from the pit of fire. She took me to the Bunny Burrow. Only then did I realize what bunnies had to do with death.

Maureen did indeed save me, but she could not reverse what had been done. She couldn't return me to a human; I would remain a spirit forever. And I had killed two lives in a single second, one being my own. I had accomplished the feat no human had done before, had dared to do before. I became the master of Death.

Only then did I realize what I did was wrong. But my problem is, I can end a life with just a twitch of my wrist, but I cannot bring it back again. I am the king of Death, not life. I ruled the Bunny Burrow, and it was at home, the only place I felt safe. I knew then that I should not have killed him, but what was done, was done.

I had killed my brother, and there was nothing I could do about it.