The moon's a powerful mistress. She can reach through any wall or covering and work her wicked charms.

No. You know this is wrong and you want to feel better about it. You don't want to admit your as ruthless and monstrous as the demons you claim to hate.

If this were a made-up story, it would begin at night, with a storm blowing and owls hooting and rattling noises under the bed.

I'd like to do something to help the worst afflicted, but I can't. It's not possible to save everybody. Even heroes have their all-too-human limits.

Even a minute of dying is better than an eternity of nothingness.

You should take more pride in your appearance,” I tell him. “You'll never attract girls with an ugly mug like that.

But you're like me,” he says. “An outsider. Different. A freak. We're both weird, which is why we get along.