I have seen abominable horrors that belong to darkness. I have done evil things in the shadows of the mountain, where men dare not go. But I long for the for the memories of happiness and good that were once a part of my world. So I do what I must to survive, for I know how I was brought here, and that no matter how impossible it seems, there must be a way out. But I am afraid. Afraid that if I do escape, they will look at me with repulsion. Afraid they will not recognize that I was once one of them, long ago, before I was taken. More importantly, I am afraid of myself. When you are raised by Evil, does it remain a part of you, or does it simply haunt you?