….
My name is Warren Carter. I was born in 1475 in a small town in Ireland, which no longer exists. Its name doesn't matter. The fact that I am of Irish descent does not matter. What matter is that in 1495, I was killed.
That's right. I was dead. I'm better now.
Not that it took me until today (which is March the 9th, in the year of our Lord anno domini 2000, for reference) to reach the point of being "better." I was quite dead for about… two hours. After laying in a pile of muck and hay for a bit longer than I'm used to, I realized that I was no longer bleeding. Nor was I at all deceased.
I was, and am, very much alive. I am immortal.
Now, I know what you're thinking. This is crazy. That only happens on television. Freaks and psychos think they're immortal. I'm telling you that I am neither. I can have any number of people attest that I am of sound mind, and all of them were born in the last century, not in some far off land in some distant time. I am ageless. That doesn't mean I don't bleed. I cry. I hurt. I live. I am just like the rest of you. I simply cannot die.
If you don't believe, that is alright by me. The less of you that believe, the better for us. I say us, because I am not the only one. We are legion. There are probably as many immortals in this world as there are real psychics, but we exist. And we don't run around living pointless, eternal lives that have some incredibly dark and secret purpose. We live and walk among you with the greatest secret ever known tucked into our bodies. We are the walking fountain of youth. And for that reason, we have been pursued throughout the ages. Forced to hide among you. To live in secret, and pretend that we hurt, and die along side you. Fine. We'll get by. But that doesn't mean we don't care. We're human, just like you. You may hate us, you may hunt us, and you may run us all down, or you may not even ever know we exist. But we will go on. We will always go on.
1 Warren Carter
My name is Warren Carter. I was born in 1475 in a small town in Ireland, which no longer exists. Its name doesn't matter. The fact that I am of Irish descent does not matter. What matter is that in 1495, I was killed.
That's right. I was dead. I'm better now.
Not that it took me until today (which is March the 9th, in the year of our Lord anno domini 2000, for reference) to reach the point of being "better." I was quite dead for about… two hours. After laying in a pile of muck and hay for a bit longer than I'm used to, I realized that I was no longer bleeding. Nor was I at all deceased.
I was, and am, very much alive. I am immortal.
Now, I know what you're thinking. This is crazy. That only happens on television. Freaks and psychos think they're immortal. I'm telling you that I am neither. I can have any number of people attest that I am of sound mind, and all of them were born in the last century, not in some far off land in some distant time. I am ageless. That doesn't mean I don't bleed. I cry. I hurt. I live. I am just like the rest of you. I simply cannot die.
If you don't believe, that is alright by me. The less of you that believe, the better for us. I say us, because I am not the only one. We are legion. There are probably as many immortals in this world as there are real psychics, but we exist. And we don't run around living pointless, eternal lives that have some incredibly dark and secret purpose. We live and walk among you with the greatest secret ever known tucked into our bodies. We are the walking fountain of youth. And for that reason, we have been pursued throughout the ages. Forced to hide among you. To live in secret, and pretend that we hurt, and die along side you. Fine. We'll get by. But that doesn't mean we don't care. We're human, just like you. You may hate us, you may hunt us, and you may run us all down, or you may not even ever know we exist. But we will go on. We will always go on.
1 Warren Carter