When I look in the mirror every morning, I wonder what I have become over the years. Have all my…”actions” up to this point been simply driven from my own unquenchable thirsts? Or have Harry’s teachings twisted my desire to kill into something more specific, more purposeful? Do I kill them because they’re evil, or do I truly kill them because I need to and their evil is merely a fortunate byproduct? If I really am doing it because they’re bad, I suppose that would make me a little heroic. Maybe not a super one, but yes, that would make me a sort of hero. Now it’d be all fine and dandy if that was who I am. Life would be nice if I did kill them because they’re the bad guys. That would certainly give me something to be proud of. However, I know that is not the case. You see I’m not proud of myself. I don’t kill them because they’re bad. I know I’m no hero and I have come to accept that over the years. The problem is no one else would accept that truth if they knew. That’s why I must hide them; I must hide the urges and temptations to kill. I have to follow the code of Henry and channel my urges. I have to kill, but if I must, there may as well be some fortunate byproducts to it.