I always knew darkness crept through this city; like a shadow, it never really goes away, always watching, always waiting. People sin and people kill; it's a way of life. I just never expected to be thrown into the middle of a war I had no hope of surviving. Alexander Silver is as brutal as he is beautiful. A devil in disguise. The man destined to end me. I didn't go looking for trouble, and yet it found me, nonetheless. I could either join it or let it crush me.

According to the FBI, I was considered a serial murderer after three kills. What do they call me after fifty-two? They call me the Silencer. One final bullet would have been all it took to stop me from taking another soul, and I would have been doing Meridian City a service by pulling that trigger. An angel crying for help stopped me, and that night, I took three lives for her. Then three turned into eight. Then eight turned into twenty. Twenty turned into twenty-one. Twenty-one turned into twenty-three.

It's been months since the day we stood above that empty grave that stunk of burnt flesh and secrets. All of us were dressed to the nines, one of us wearing a wedding dress, a day that was supposed to mark the beginning of a new adventure. It marked the bitter end of our vengeance. We have done things that have marked our souls for eternity. But before we get there, we have to go back. Back to where it all started. The place I could find in my sleep.

The average song is three and a half minutes long; those three and a half minutes could lead to a slow blink, a glimpse of the past, or catapult the soul into heart-shattering nostalgia. At the height of my career, I had the life I wanted, the life I’d always envisioned. I’d found my tempo, my rhythm. Then I received a phone call that left me off key. You see, my favorite songs had a way of playing simultaneously. I was in love with one man’s beats and another’s lyrics. But when it came to the soundtrack of a life, how could anyone choose a favorite song?

Moving to a new town to start college, where I can try to be normal. Or at least pretend I am. I’m willing to fake it, because I’m tired of trying to get better. Tired of spilling my guts to doctors and therapists to understand why I’ve heard voices since I was a child.