My name is Annabeth, if you feel the need to know my last name as well it is Jones. I have never seen the point in last names, no one will remember you any differently just because of your last name, but then again humans are such strange creatures. I am human, just in case you were wondering, and I hunt the things that people have nightmares about, the things most of the human population just dismisses as a bad dream, or a fairy tale. I hunt the demons, the ghosts, and the monsters. If you think that this is gibberish then go away, if you are intrigued then listen, and if you believe me pay very close attention. Make sure you are listening to every detail because if you miss but one you will be lost during the rest. I will not repeat myself and you will not ask questions. Do not interrupt me, your wasting enough of my valuable time as it is. Are we clear? Good, then lets move on. My life was rather normal. I was born in Oklahoma in 1979. My mother was Evelyn, or Eve, Jones and my father was unknown to everyone but her. He ditched my mom the day before I was born. Four years later my mom died and I was sent to live with my uncle in Lawrence, Kansas. I immediately became friends with a boy who lived across the street, his name was Dean. We hung out a lot and were best friends, but six months later something happened. At the time I didn't know much, I remember Dean was at the playground with me and it got late so he had to go home. We walked back and said goodbye, he told me that he would see me tomorrow. That night there was a fire. His house burnt down, his mother was killed. His dad was so grief stricken that he packed up what they still had and left. I never got to say goodbye. Another 28 years past before I finally saw Dean again. That is where I will start, so pay attention, sit back, and be glad you don't have to live through the hell that I had to.