I can't remember anything. When I sleep, I dream of the tortured screams of the people I've killed; I see images of their faces, screaming "Why?" at me. But my anger is what killed them.

Why are we mad? Or am I just the only sane one? The name is Hatter, Mad Hatter if you will. And no, I am not insane as SOME PERSON would have you believe; though I am mad though. Very mad. Now then, let me tell you a story!

The deadlands. That is the name of the place I walk, it is a place I travel and live in.