“They were wicked. You can’t blame me for it; for seeing it clearly. You can’t blame me for being able to discern the Truth while you sit behind your shadow veils. The blind can’t blame the sighted for their ability to see and their direction, can they?

“I am here today not to repent but to tell you how merciful I have been. I could have killed the lot of you—easily. And yet you were spared. For what, pray tell? For a chance at redemption, for a chance to do a lick of good in a culture of evil.

“Why couldn’t I continue in my crusade, my righteous quest, you ask. It is because I have grown tired of cleaning up after you. Furthermore I have already vindicated myself of any wrongdoing, so go ahead, judge me by your laws and do to me what your justice deems to be fair. I fret not, for I am free of the shackles of mortal humanity, I have been given freedom for the cost of surrendering myself to your slavery.

“Although you’ve sewn your eyes shut by your own hand, I will attempt to explain to you in no uncertain terms why I freed the world of those I did. Your half-hearted justice and your limp-wristed punishments do nothing in the grand scheme of things: evil propagates like thistles in the summer, growing tall and wild until it eats up all the flowers and beautiful things of the field. I am the reaper who comes with my sickle and my shears and chops the stems of the thistles bit by bit until eventually I pull out the roots.

“I thought you would catch on with the way I cut apart each of my victims—oh I do hate that word. I started with the hands, letting the accused—yes, I prefer that term—feel the hopelessness as their implements which carried out such wicked deeds were severed and laid before their terrified eyes. Then came the feet which hastened towards evil as if it were the finish line at the end of a marathon, those too I laid out before them. Then came the eyes, which saw all manner of obscenity. The tongue, which spoke countless lies, came next. These husks could now neither do, nor run towards, nor see, nor speak evil. But it was still not enough, for wherever the heart still remains, there evil remains also, so I cut to the root. I dug it out. It was a toil, as weeding always is, but eventually the weed was uprooted.

“You know, it’s funny how evil people are sometimes called heartless, because I think it’s the exact opposite. The heart is the root of evil, but to uproot the heart, the ego, the self—whatever you like to call it—is the ultimate virtue. To be heartless should be considered good and right, for as long as one possesses self there can be no love, no selflessness, nothing beautiful, and no virtue. Individuality is a crutch and should be outlawed by you people. As long as people view themselves as individuals instead of part of a society, a people, a nation, there will always be ego, and strife, and war. As long as identity takes center stage as the most important issue to every individual, there will be confusion, societal discord, and civil war.

“And so I have rid the world of one hundred of your most prominent individualists: the politicians, the killers for the sake of convenience, the addicts, the confused, the deceived, and the deceivers. And now it comes the time to rid the world of myself. For I too have a heart, I too have committed the grave sin of self. So take me and judge me according to your laws. I have vindicated myself. I have vindicated myself.”

His voice trails off and ends in a sob, perhaps it is because he knows that in the wickedness of his own heart, he cannot vindicate himself at all.