There's no good way to start, so let's go with this: My name is Jasper and I don't remember anything.

I don't know how you're supposed to start a diary. I don't know if I've ever even had a diary, but I found this notebook among the wreckage, and I thought that writing things down would help me make sense of everything. But it doesn't. The more I think about what happened to me, the more absurd it all seems.

Oh, sod it. It's not as if I have anything better to do.

Let's start with what I remember, which is not a lot. I know my name, which is Jasper. I don't know if it was given or if I picked it myself, but I quite like it. I am a human. I am a man. I'm not really sure what that means, but I know I'm these things. And I know I woke up in the Hells.

Yes, diary, the literal Hells. The place where the damned go after they die. I was sleeping in some sort of pod on board a ship when I was expelled to a world of flesh, flames and dragons. All I had in my possession was a knife, a nasty headache, and a very faint idea of where I was. I didn't have much time to reflect on my condition, as everything around me was on fire, so I set forth to explore.

The ship was made of organic material, which striked me as odd (even if I didn't exactly remember boarding any other ship) and made me hungry, for some reason. While exploring, I rescued a small creature, a 'brain' that spoke to me telepathically, called Us. I carefully removed the creature from the skull it inhabited, and it was so grateful that it followed me. It was super helpful, too. I'm glad I resisted the urge to burrow into its tender flesh with my bare hands.

Ah, yes. I should talk about my urges..

Ever since I woke up, I've had these dark urges to kill, maim, torture, and drink the blood of my enemies. As I said, I have no memory of who I was or what I was doing there, but I'm sure this isn't normal. When I picked up Us, my blood began to boil, and the urge to kill manifested itself. But... I don't know, it seemed rude? He hadn't done anything to me. It's very strange. I am very strange. I think I am. Maybe this isn't even me, it's the parasite that giant squid put in my head.

I forgot that bit, too. Oh, Gods, I almost forgot about that bit.

Us and I were looking for the ship's helm when we came across Lae'zel. Her skin was scaled and greenish, and she talked as if she was going to rip all my skin off, or dismember me, or slowly break my legs, and then rip all my skin off, laughing while I helplessly tried to run away from her. Maybe next she'd cut off a finger, or even my whole hand, and use my blood as...

I'm being weird again.

Moving on, she called me an abomination, and was ready to kill me until our minds touched (as mine and Us' had). She explained it was because of the tadpoles we both carried, and that if we didn't "cleanse" ourselves (whatever that means) we would become like those squid people I mentioned (they're called "mind flayers"). I saw a woman on board the ship turn into one and, let me tell you, I don't feel much like sharing her fate.

After being convinced I wasn't a thrall, and still retained some semblant of free will (she didn't know about my latent will to kill, but it's not like we had time for a chat as we fought for our lives), she joined me on my new found mission: to take control of the ship. On our way, we rescued someone from a pod just like mine. Lae'zel wanted to leave her, but I couldn't. I was fortunate my pod malfunctioned during the attack, and I wasn't about to let someone die there, conscious, so we looked around and found a rune that opened her pod, and then I willed it open. With my mind. I assume this is a feature of the tadpole, too, and not another brand of weirdness from my previous mysterious life.

Her name was Shadowheart, and she was a half-elf. I don't know how I know that, but I just do. Together, we reached the helm and came across one of our captors, hideous tentacles and evil eyes in all its unholy glory, struggling against imps and demons. While they were distracted fighting each other, I took control of the ship and managed to escape from Avernus. Unfortunately, the dragons had done a lot of damage to it, and it crashed. And then... something happened. I'm not sure what: just as I was about to paint the floor with my guts, something stopped my fall. And that, dear diary, is why I'm not a speck on an unknown beach, and why I can tell this story.

It was dark, so I rummaged through the wreckage and found a backpack with a nice enough tent, a bedroll, some supplies, and even some nice, comfortable clothes that fit me.. I wasn't very hungry, so I set up camp in a little alcove I found by the beach. Then, it struck me: I couldn't even remember my own face, so I went and looked at my reflection.

Now, I don't have any real frame of reference to compare to, but I'd say I'm pretty good-looking. Dark slicked hair, piercing light blue eyes, a well groomed goatee and a dashing scar on my nose. My neck is covered in a large red tattoo resembling rising flames and I have a few earrings on each ear. Not bad. After discovering I'm quite nice to look at (again, not really much to go off of), I prepared my bedroll and went to sleep. Or at least I tried to sleep: my urges gave me no rest.

Who was I before that ship? Well, I certainly wasn't a good person: when I was attacked by imps and other demonic creatures, instinct took over and I wielded that knife like a master.. I have a few brief flashes of old memories, but they're just that: none of them serve as a clue to my identity, besides the fact I'm really, really into mindless violence. Among the flashes were places, faces and sensations (most of them involving murder, which made my blood boil again), but nothing stuck.

I won't let these urges consume me. I'm going to resist. I'm going to be, if not a good person, at least someone normal. I'm going to try to go back to sleep. Tomorrow I'll look for survivors and some signs of civilization. There I will need to find a healer to remove this unwanted tenant from my brain.

After that? I'm going to find out who I am. I'm going to find out who put me in that pod. First, I'm going to find the people who are dearest to them , and slit their necks while they watch, and gouge out their eyes so that it's the last thing they see. Then I'm going to cut them into little tiny pieces. Slowly, so they don't pass out. I want them to feel everything. Then I'm going to

Sleep. I should definitely go to sleep.

Why am I so strange?