This short diary entry is influenced by the book concept in development by me and my friend. This is an early insight into the kind of universe this book will take place, so it's not flawless but hopefully interesting enough to develop more enjoy

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Khalien's journal

Sept. 13, 2143.

Eden.

A 'Shifter died tonight. By my own hand. He left me no choice.

This encounter left me with a bitter taste in my mouth about this world, about it's values, and the vermin that infest it. Where else but Eden would you find prejudice, racist scum? A man can't even walk down the street without people passing judgements on what you are, killing you because of them. In this case tonight, a ShapeShifter tried his luck. He approached me from behind disguising himself as a werewolf such as me, but his disguise was flawed. He may take up the shape of a werewolf, but he lacked the subtleties that made him a werewolf; he lacked the smell, the posture, that glint in his eye. He looked fake, he was fake, and he was going to kill me because he didn't know me. He didn't know that I was not a follower of my kind as I am not a sadist. Not like my brothers who are the cause of many unprovoked attacks of a night.

He came up behind me, and made sure I spotted him. I wasn't going to fall for his disguise, I morphed into the beast and attacked. We fought for ages, slashing at each other and throwing ourselves around the street corner. It was hard to see in the intense darkness of the streets. No light shone on these streets, not in Eden. The 'Shifter could not match my fighting skills in the end, a poser will never live up to the real thing. I had the mastery, the skill and the wit to outshine my opponent. He fell when he made a clumsy mistake in his foot work, his right paw slipped a little on the damp street, messing up his posture and giving me an opening for an attack. I dug my claws into his thighs and threw him into a near by wall, leaving huge cracks in the concrete. This made the 'Shifter lose his disguise, revealing the tired, beaten, miserable man underneath. Drowsily, he lifted his head to look me straight in the eye. Even when his life was in great danger, he still looked at me with amazing hatred, not a shred of fear in the glimmer of his stare at all. I cut his jugular with a claw and watched the life in his eyes fade as the crimson hate spilled out his body and covered the streets. I left the scene in a hurry, the Vampires will deal with his body. The police will never find it, nor will they be there for several days.

The scene was a mess but now the city is somewhat cleaner, kind of ironic if you think about it. Perhaps one day an ultimate solution will be conducted, and all evil doers will perish. When that day comes, I want to be on the front of that solution, I want to be part of that extermination, that cleansing. Their filth and prejudice will be swept from this world and only salvation will be left. I will be patiently waiting...