El Santo

I didn’t know darkness and evil lurked inside me until I had to murder to survive, forced to become my own worst enemy. With so much blood on my hands, I was surprised I could still see my own skin.

I killed, I tortured, I loved. I played God while I was rotting in a fiery inferno. Thriving on control and power was the only way I knew how to live. There were no other options.

If you weren’t my friend, you were my foe. If you weren’t with me, you were against me—traitors, as I called them.

There were no imaginary lines. I’d crossed them all. No boundaries, no second chances, no redemption—not for me, for them, for anyone. Only for her ...

She loved me, always convinced I was a saint, never believing I was just another sinner, a monster—until it was too late.

Except, I didn’t choose this life. It chose me.