The darkness in a new child's heart. The blood on the hands of an innocent man. These things, and more, am I.
I am the night, and the darkness consumes me, even as I lie here, not sleeping.
I am a boy. I wish for comfort, for love and warmth, for a normal family. I wish for no more pain; foolish boy, my life has been nothing but pain, and it will never end.
I am a man. I wish for power and accomplishment, for success, and for wealth; foolish man, I have these things in measure. Success and accolades, wealth and power; power to crush the life from another man with nothing but my own hands.
I am a father. I wish my son to be like me, to accept what I would offer; foolish, foolish father, he is like me, stubborn and strong...willful.
I am a monster. I wish to rend and destroy, to take the lives of the foolish innocents into my claws and tear them to bits. Foolish monster; I have done these things and more, and even now, the darkness in me feeds upon them, bringing a wicked sneer to my lips and heart.
I am many things. And, in the end, I am but one thing. I am rage.
And I am someone's worst nightmare.