It's time to start my chronicles, the chronicles of a cursed man, the chronicles of a man evicted morally, without descent, without a past, present or future. I'm Marcus, and as I write these lines, the remains of my house burning behind me. Everything I had known in this world has been wiped off the face of the earth: My friends, my family, my name, my memories, my life. Nothing is left of me, just an empty shell. Have I been guilty? I do not know for sure, just know that my world has come to an end. So I can only get out of here, and to find the truth, that bitch who always gets away before my eyes again and again. Perhaps my destiny is reduced to not knowing what has happened here today, how it happened and why. But I do not care, I'll find the truth, even if it must sacrifice my empty shell of it, I owe to them, and I owe it to me. I hear footsteps, some accelerated and more deliberate ... approach appears to find out what has happened in my home, the place which many had feared, that many thought damn ... the flames will have alerted many curious and just interested in my welfare ... I leave here and never return. I made my decision, and this is something that is humble and ignorant multitude can never understand. I can not stay, if I stay, it's all been in vain, their sacrifice be in vain. I will not stay ... if I do I will have failed them and never discover that actually happened here. I have to hurry, I hear as they approach.
Marcus -Journal, Day 1 -
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