Part of me is a touch shocked that you actually made it this far, or maybe I’m just surprised that information like this is still available. I guess it always has been, it’s just become progressively harder to find.
My name is Shay… or Shaym if you want to get technical. I can’t tell you when I was born, or even really who my parents are. I have good guesses on both, but no real answers. My life that I can remember begins nearly twenty years ago, as an adult. So if you were hoping for cute childhood stories and fond remembrances you’re just sh!t out of luck. Okay, fine… I do have some memories and I gather more with age, but I doubt all of them will come back to me.
Some of my memories don’t fit, don’t make sense. Why should I remember battles of the crusades, or coming across to the new world on some of the first colonist’s ships. Or worse yet, why should I have memories of the greek and roman first invasions of India. Is anyone confused yet? Yeah, me too. I can’t explain the memories I have, I can’t promise you they’re my own. But they’re all I have and so I cling to them until I can piece the puzzle together. But enough about that. You came here because you wanted to know who I am. You better step to the back of a long line.
Shaym Devi Thanos, my name, is the only memory I know for certain and name you should probably forget. Knowing my name is only a liability and it just might suck you into a whirlwind you won’t get out of.
So like I said, my life, or what I remember starts about twenty years ago in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of New York city. My first clear memories are of the Order, or rather the men of the Order. I can’t really tell you what the Order is and especially not who’s in it. I can tell you that the Order considers itself to be a balance, the hands that keep the scales level between good and evil. It’s a pretentious lot of arrogant beings who think they know what’s best for the world… and most of the time they do.
Where do I fall into it? The Order needs it’s operatives, people who can enforce their ideas and complete their dirty work when necessary. I’m one of those people. Chosen because of my unique skills and abilities, skills that I can’t even explain myself. But I’ve told you how much I remember about my life… So the reasons behind the odd things I can do are just as illusive.
So anyway, the Order somehow found me in a group home. I was being kept there for amnesia (for lack of a better diagnosis). I had been found on the streets of new York city years before. I didn’t know who I was or where I was. The legal system swept me up and disposed of me the most convenient way possible. Not that I was happy in the home, but my life was quiet. I was complacent and confused. I can’t even explain to you what it feels like to who no memory of your past. I drank a lot, I slept a lot and I allowed myself to wither away into a pile of nothingness.
I guess I could say the Order rescued me. Rescued me and delivered me into a new sort of hell. Apparently I was someone they’d been looking for, someone they believed they needed. Apparently they know more about me than I do, but it’s information they haven’t given me yet. Information they hold on to so they can keep me on a tight leash.
Like I said, the Order found me in that home and carried me off into a warehouse that I still can recall every detail of. I mean, you don’t forget the place where you discover that you’re really not like everyone else. Really not like everyone else, in so many ways… In so many ways I can’t share with you because that would endanger my privacy and my ability to perform my job. But the order found me, trained me. Taught me how to bend things to my will, how to shape the world around me to fit what I needed to do. They taught me how to harness skills I didn’t know that I had. They taught me how most of our world is confined by what we believe. How we can break those confines by changing the nature of our beliefs. And, by doing so, they made me a dangerous creature. A dangerous creature who could perform their work.
If you’re here I’m sure you know that I live outside the law. And I’m not ashamed to tell you that I function as an assassin for the order. I don’t necessarily like what I do. But it’s a means to an end. That end, being my memories. And hell, I’m damn good at what I do. So my job is to maintain the balance, to find that thin edge between right and wrong. I’m neither good nor evil, I have to be both. I don’t have the luxury of choosing sides.
Do I have any regrets? Yes… Many, probably more than I’d like to share with you here. I can’t tell you that I enjoy killing and I promise you some of the lives I take I wish I could allow to live. Every mission accomplished is like a scar against my soul. Scars heal with time and I swear some days, I have all the time in the world. Do I regret who I work for? No, because I believe in some of what we work for. There has to be a balance, it’s the nature of our lives. Do I regret my the memories I’ve lost and the ones I fight to regain? No, life is a journey and I’m sure the puzzle will work together along the way.
Do I have any weaknesses? Of course, everyone does. It’s just a matter of finding them. Physically, sure of course. I bleed like everyone else. Mentally you know, not everything I want is there. My greatest weakness? I still have a heart…
