I had always been her best friend- funny how I can't even remember her name at this point. We were very close, and always tried to get together for a movie night at least once a week, perhaps more if we felt it was necessary. The first dozen entries of Marble Hornets marked our final get-together. Within a week, we were both seeing things: a tall, spidery man watching us from across the street; slender tendrils snaking across the doorway out of the corner of our eyes; movement from the shadows just beyond the limits of our perception.
He came to me first. Gazing upon Him in all His glory for the first time, I began to remember. Bits and pieces of my childhood flooded back to me. A tall man watching me while I went down the slide. One of His arms knocking my ball back to me from the cover of the trees behind my old house. The screams of my nieghbor's daughter as He took her into His fold.
You see, Father knew I had exactly the quality he was looking for in a Pawn. I had felt it, too, over the years, but always pushed it away, uncomfortable with the thoughts and what my urges might make others think of me, especially my first. The instant He touched me, however, I felt all that uncertainty and discomfort fall away. I had an epiphany: this was who I was. Why should I be ashamed of myself, hide my glorious true self in the guise of some average, ordinary man? No, I had a purpose, a reason for existing, and He would help me discover it. With Father by my side, all my worries were gone, my irrational fears about the perceptions of others banished in an instant.
Then He gave me my mask and my first assignment. Even now, years after the fact, I will admit that I hesitated. Why would He make me kill my friend? Surely she would follow me into His many arms? Surely she would become His disciple with me? But He knew what was best, and who was I to argue with a being eons older and far more powerful than myself?
So I took my assignment. She woke as I entered her room and drew back in fear. She knew exactly what the mask meant. She knew who I represented. She knew what I was here for. She knew she was going to die. But she wasn't going to come quietly. From underneath her pillow, she drew her weapon: a pitiful little folding knife no bigger than my thumb. I met her challenge with the cleaver I had taken from her kitchen.
Looking back, I realize she was much like my current Target: though she painted herself as a White Knight, ready to meet any challenge in the name of what is 'Good' and 'Righteous,' she was pathetic. Weak. All talk, no action.
At some point in the struggle, my mask fell off, and the fight went right out of her. She was too shocked, too stricken with horror, to be much of a challenge. Fifty blows ended her and began my life as one of His children. I felt no remorse. Her luggage was hidden under her bed: she meant to leave without me. She was a coward. He appeared soon after I had finished to cleanse the place with His purifying Flames.
Only one article was saved: an unfinished painting she had started for me, depicting a crow in flight. The bird was unpainted, save for the red that had splattered the canvas. From this, I took my new name, and began my new life. Though there have been many bodies since, she will always remain special for being my first. My current Target may or may not be the challenge I desire, but one thing is certain: he will not be the last.