There was a time when I would say that I was the best there is at what I do... that what I do isn't very nice.... And it's true. I don' know who created me... but it's obvious why.

Men who look my age are off gettin' married... playin' games with their kids... Me? I'm half-soaked in blood that ain' my own, tryin' to keep the one person who hates me more than I love them alive.

... Daken... He's my son... my only real flesh 'n blood in this world... A boy I coulda raised into a good kid... now, he's all grown up, and determined to kill me.

Call me stupid... call it pointless... but I'd still do anythin' for 'im. Even now, as I'm sittin' here, usin' my own cowl to staunch the blood pourin' outta him, his hand's scratchin' for my throat.

I know why... We almost had 'im... The bastard, Romulus, was an inch from our claws... but he brought the roof down on us. I had to choose. Instead of takin' him out, I tried to stop a two-by-four from impalin' my son.

I keep tellin' myself that once he's outta danger, he'll understand. He never does. He never will. I doubt I would, to be honest.

I look down into his eyes... they look so much like his mother's... only his pour out hatred.

"... It's okay, Daken..." I whisper, grabbin' the hand tryin' to strangle me. "... Yer gonna be okay..."

He will be. His healin' factor's almost as good as mine. But that chunk of wood got 'im pretty deep. I just hope the others find me before he loses too much blood...