Bleeding Gray (Prologue)

Preface

I’ve heard that eyes are windows to a person’s soul. So if you look hard enough, you might be fortunate in finding a spark in that window, a light with which a person’s true spirit lives. This light is evident in the eyes of a curious child, but some time between childhood and becoming a young adult it changes, slowly dimming until there is no spirit left. That’s what my world has done to our people - stolen their spirit and cast them aside as a piece of rubbish.

Like sheep, they live their lives following the masses, listening to what their superiors deem right and proper, and they wander through the years in monotony. Grow up, grow old, and die. Like clocks ticking time away. Nothing exciting will ever come their way, because they refuse to see the glory in change. Some wonder what makes things right and proper, and why they should follow the masses. Is it to avoid persecution? Is there real value in living when your life is forced into submission? It saddens me because these people wonder, but they don’t see the power they have, and they will never stand up and fight. Then there are people like me. Those who keep that spark lit dimly in their soul, keep their spirit alive just enough to fight back. Laws may bind you, but they don't have to hold you down.

I used to believe in our laws, used to follow what was proper in the eyes of man. But, as I stood before judgment, a blade tearing away at my arm, red streams spilling from my wound for the bloodthirsty crowd to see, every rule, every law I'd been born and raised to believe in, flowed out of me with each drop of red, severing the chains of bondage in the searing pain, and I was free. Life as I knew it ended with a kiss, and my future began with a blade.