Prologue

Dark.

So dark, you couldn’t see a hand in front of

your face.

So dark, you don’t even know if you’ve got a hand or a face to begin with.

As if floating in a starless space, suspended in a soupy jet-blackness.

That’s how it felt.

And the funny thing was, the ‘it’ in question had no idea WHAT it was. But then it thought to itself, even if it had no idea what it was, that must mean at some point in the recent past, it must have had SOME idea – which meant that it was able to THINK.

It thought for a moment, and asked itself a very important question:

‘What am I doing here?’

It thought some more.

And then . . . it experienced a sensation. Several, in fact. The main one being that of absence. There was something MISSING. Someone . . . had removed a part of it. It was now feeling a burning sensation through its entire being. Anger.

And it thought to itself, with all the energy it could muster:

‘WHO. HAS. DONE. THIS. TO. ME?’

It now knew that one thing was certain. Whoever had stolen a part of its being . . . they were going to pay.