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.