• I was going in a full sprint, running was all I was thinking about. All I had was the clothes on my back; a thick blue thermal long sleeve and a pair of khaki jeans, and black rugged high top sneakers. A handle of a sword in my pocket, not even the blade was on it. I knew adequate, simple words, I did not even know my own name. What was chasing me? I didn't know.
    Well I did know this, they were creatures, maybe monsters, that were chasing me. But these monsters were not goofy in anyway, they weren't the ones hiding under the bed or in the closet. The monsters were scarlet red, demonic, and on all fours. Their fur looked as if it was soaked in blood for over a decade. They seemed like they could be a dog, or at least a distant relative. "Hell hounds?” I thought, “Could they even exist?”
    As I was running, I tripped and I dropped the sword handle. A pole came out, the handle being at the bottom of it. A shiver went up my spine when I saw it's curved, rigid blade at the top. It was tall, maybe 7 feet, solid, and black, but so was the blade. The blade had a black metallic look upon it. It seemed so familiar but I couldn't recall anything.
    Inherently I used the bladed staff, lifting myself up. As I was on one knee, the first hound came at me and I rolled to the side. Now standing, the hound came back and I swung, the blade pointed outward, seizing the hell hounds head with the curve of my blade. Leveling the neck of the poor heathen, black sludge poured out of it's now cold body. I had let a little grin come across my face, It had felt so good, almost natural. It felt like I had done this a million times before. But one was dead and another was still waiting. The second one was a little trickier though, it came at me with much more velocity than the other one had. The hound was in full sprint, snarling, and I protected myself from it’s vicious mouth by pushing the pole with both of my hands against it's teeth. but the demon grabbed my staff with its teeth and threw it aside. The staff popped back into the handle and it was back to being empty.
    For a small second, life was peaceful. The vicious beast in front of me, we stood there, in a stone cold stare. I looked to my left at my handle, not even knowing if I could get it to open if I even made it there. The hound lunged at me and swung it’s sharp right claw at my neck. Instead of my blood pouring out on the concrete, I had caught the fierce paw in mid air with my left hand. I grasped it’s throat with my right, gripping it ever so savagely. Thrusting it to the ground, I tore its throat out, blood gushing out onto the concrete, not mine but the heathen’s with fur. Wearing the blood of my enemy, I stood up and slowly walked over to my handle and picked it up, satisfied with my work.
    An arrow shot over my head and killed a third monster. I thought there was only two...
    "You are lucky, a claw can leave a nasty scar," a women said.
    I turned around, astounded by the fact that nothing was there. But somehow that too, had felt natural. I turned back around and the hellhounds started to disintegrate. I looked around and caught a reflection of myself in the pond in the park I had run through. Pale, red eyes, and black medium length hair that went over my eyes. I was fit, not buff and not a bodybuilder, skinny for a better term. It looked like death had rolled over me. Another arrow shot over my head and through the reflection in the water to create ripples and destroy the reflection for a few seconds before the water settled again. I knelt before it and attempted to wash away the blood of the fallen hell hounds.
    "That's a dangerous game you are playing woman," I said, with a sturdy, serious tone.
    "I wouldn't consider my orders a game," she said, "I have been sent here to guide you,"
    "Why?" I thought.
    "My orders get passed down from a higher power," she answered, even though I had thought it to myself.
    "Well okay then, let's start with your name. So what is it?" I asked, yet I had thought it weird I didn't ask "why" out loud.
    "Worry about your own name and memories, not mine" the woman said.
    "One thing at a time," I said. I had figured out one thing about me, when people ask questions as a response it aggravated me.
    "Azure," she said.
    "Azure, what are you doing here?" I asked.
    "I am angel, here to guide you on your journey, young hero," Azure said.
    "Hero?" I thought, "What kind of hero has red eyes and gets off on killing of other beings. This world must be screwed up if I am a hero!"
    "Tell me about myself azure. Who am I? Where am I from?"
    "I can only tell you so much. What I can tell you for now is that you are experienced with that morph sword handle. It should come to no surprise that you took those hell hounds out with ease. Your name is Vincent, and you are 17," Azure told me.
    I thought to myself, "Vincent...it seems fitting. But how could I know she was telling the truth? I mean she isn't even here physically. I could be going mad. In fact, I probably am. I suppose for now I might as well go along with it."
    I had nothing to lose, but as far as I knew, I could've had everything to lose.