My name is Guy Nir, or at least that's what it says on my
ID. That's the name I went by last year, yes, now that I
think about it, the change started last year. It started
with dreams... nightmares really. They were dreams of death
and decay, of crime and murder. But those were not
frightening to me. In fact, I rather enjoyed them.

It was in one of those dreams, a year or so ago, in which
it all changed. I remember it was vivid and intense. Like
many nights before, I had dreamt of death. There was blood
on my hands and darkness surrounded me. Then it happened:
the still air around me began to shift. It was as if the air
was so still it would materialize. The darkness poured and
flowed, taking human form. The darkness had a pale
complexion, white as the dead. She had dark hair, and dark
eyes... too dark to comprehend. Upon her back were large,
raven wings, folded down over her back, hanging over her
shoulders and above her head. She wore a garment of some
indefinable black substance. She walked out of the darkness
above the dead girl that lay before me in my dreams. She was
my Dark Angel.
"This is who you are, Jack." She said. Her voice seemed to
echo from across the darkness and the void. Her voice
reminded me much of my own.
"My name's not Jack." I answered her. She smiled, and the
light tore the dream webs from my mind.

That morning things were different: I felt as if the sun's
light didn't really touch me, as if the darkness and cold
remained from my dream. My shadow played tricks on me, too.
At times it didn't follow my movements, and once in a while
I caught a glimpse of a shadow of wings.
On the way to school I could not overcome a sudden smile at
the sight of the dead cat on the street.
Yes, I can tell you what I felt back then: back in the
beginning I felt bad about dead cats and homeless people and
murder. As my soul froze over I simply stopped caring. It
didn't bother me at all. Only when my Angel came I started
to feel. Dead cats and murder made me feel alive. Yes, write
it down in your little notepad: Death made me feel Alive.

School had become but an empty shell to me. I ignored all
my 'friends' as I passed through the hallways. I stared at
my shadow through classes. On the way home, I ran into
another student. He tried to cross my path, so I tripped him
and stepped on his chest as I went. I could hear him
struggle for air as I went. It made me feel good, it made me
feel powerful. You people are dreaming, believing in your
perfect world! What I did made me feel awake, on a higher
level of consciousness, if you will.

She came to me again that night.
"What are you?" I asked her. She was sharpening a large
knife.
"We are Darkness." She stated.
"Are you an Angel?" I inquired further. She simply stared
at me. The wings on her back shifted slightly. I have seen
ravens move their wings like that before. I had also seen
that knife somewhere before.
"Why are we doing this?" I tried again.
"We feed, we breathe. Our soul needs nourishment, too."

Back in daylight, on the street, the dead cat was beginning
to rot. I knew it would not last much longer. My shadow fell
on a brick on the side of the road. I picked it up and
hurled it into a nearby house. An alarm went off inside, I
walked away.
I did not enter the school that day. There was nothing of
interest for me there. After school I waited for the
principal to leave, and memorized her license plate number.
She has never done me any wrong, she thought I was such a
good boy. After that I grabbed one of the students on his
way home and tripped him on the road. I kicked his body and
his head a few times. I did not kick him hard, I didn't want
him to pass out. I loved watching them cry, watching them
lie on the road, helpless, like that cat. I smiled and
walked away. I did this many times more in the following
weeks. I enjoyed it, and I enjoyed the fear it drove into
the students. Once they even tried to hurt me, a group of
them together. I was one with my shadow and together we
fought like Hell's Angel. I felt no pain, but was quick to
deliver it. Sharp fingernails found soft eye sockets, a
quick fist to the neck left them gasping for air. I licked
the blood off a wound and walked away. I had shown them
terror.

"It isn't enough." She told me that night. "The dream must
become a nightmare. You must go further, Jack."
"My name is Guy." I argued.
"We are always Jack." She stated.
"What more do you want?" I asked.
"You already know, Jack." She threw the knife the ground
near my feet. "You always knew."

That day I torched a car. You can guess whose. On the way
home I stopped to look at some ravens eating away the
remains of the dead cat. I glimpsed something familiar on
the other side of the street. It was a familiar shape in a
display window of a shop. I had thought about it the entire
day, and now it stood before me. That's right, I had found
my knife. That night I had acquired the knife by a use of
another brick. I dreamt of murder that night, and many
nights after. In all those dreams I held that knife, and the
Angel held my hand.

I had no reason to get up early, so I slept on later and
later, until my life became an endless night. Stolen alcohol
was my friend, and empty bottles made for good clubs. I
think I beat up one of those that were my friends, but I'm
not sure. I don't remember any of my friends any more.
Why? Why, you ask? Not for the money, and not out of hate
to anyone. Not because I was abused or nothing of that sort.
My soul needed evil deeds. My Angel asked me so. But this is
not what you really want to know, is it? I'll skip forward a
bit.

It was nighttime, again. Long shadows shifted all around
me. My Angel whispered things in my ear.
"Catch her, Jack. She is yours. You must have her." We were
following a young girl on her way home. It was dark, so very
dark.
She screamed when I grabbed her, but I quickly covered her
mouth. I held her against the wall and drew my knife. She
became silent, her eyes wide with terror.
"I don't want to hurt her." I said. "Don't make me hurt
her, Angel."
Her face shifted in the shadows. The pale complexion
appeared.
"You want to, Jack!" Her dark eyes were locked onto mine.
"This is too much, Angel!" My grip tightened.
"You must, Jack!" Her arms moved around me, struggling,
holding.
"My name isn't Jack!" I yelled. She laughed, a high pitched
tone that sounded more like the shriek of a helpless
creature.
"Leave me alone!" I yelled. My knife thrust forward. "I
don't need you anymore!" I stabbed her again. "Free my
will!" I delivered another blow. How many times did I stab
her? You probably know. I have not seen my Angel since,
since last year. I continued with all I've told you. I never
tired of the killings. And then they put me here. And all
the rest you know.
So, yes, I know what it says on my ID card, but you, you
can call me Jack.