Sure, here's the prologue....

The Wicked Ones

Prologue

Daniel Tanner sat hunched over his desk, creating an ache in his back. A rough-edged notebook lay out before him, a poor replacement for the leather-bound journal he had used in better days, but he’d lost the taste for such things long ago.
He drew out his pen and tried hard not to scribble the next words. 

They say when you look into the abyss, it looks back into you. I never really knew what that meant. The shaking of his hand made the words nearly illegible, but he found some power in placing them on paper. They were words for him and no one else. What you could become. He stopped then as the tears began dripping onto the paper. The pages drank them, like so much else had. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he poured himself another shot and drained it. He needed the warmth that rushed down his throat and steadied his hand. I thought I could handle it. I thought I wouldn’t be like this. I didn’t know I’d become like them. He stopped and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, wondering again why writing always seemed to make it easier, as if writing it somehow made it certain and a thing no longer to be questioned. The pen dropped and his head slid into his hands. It felt heavy in his grasp, but surely another drink would make it lighter. It did. When I’ve finished this drink, I’ll go to that thing in my basement and cut it. Hurt it until it gives me what I want. What does that make me? When I stared into the abyss- The next drink went down as easy as the others. Did it stare back into me?