Story of a Demon
folder
DarkFic › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,020
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
DarkFic › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,020
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
The Darkness
I lay there in the darkness, clutching a dagger, which was covered in dried blood, to my chest, as my head swam with dark memories of the past, memories of travesties long ago which had permanently tainted my view of the world. And why should it not? I vividly remembered every detail of the horrific day, long ago...
*********************************************************************
It was in the year of 1991, I was a mere twelve years old.I was in the sixth grade at my elementary school, and I quite enjoyed it. That day seemed like any other as I arrived at the campus, nothing was out of the norm, all was well.
As the end of the day aproached, I was eager to get home, as it was a sunny Friday afternoon, and I had every intention of taking advantage of it. The bell finally rang after what seemed an eternity of waiting, and I rushed outside to find my mother waiting to take me home.
As we drove, I was giddy with exitement, as My freinds and I had planned to go on a bike ride, when my mother crushed these hopes by saying that I had to stay home that day because we were to have company. I pouted, very angry at this fact. I argued with her for a while, but finally I sighed in resignation, accepting my defeat.
Later that night, when our guests had left, My little brother and I were playing hide-and-seek, and he was \"it\". I had cleverly managed to get into he vents, in a position where I had a perfect view of the front door, and thus saw him enter. A nameless man, clad all in black and carrying a long knife with a beautifully carved black wooden handle.
He went into the kitchen, where my mother and father were. I heard screams. By the time I had managed to get out of the ventilation, the screams had subsided.
I had long ago learned that my father kept a handgun in his closet, and I hastily retrieved it as I heard more screams, those of my younger brother. As he entered the room, obviously looking for me, I gunned him down. I had shot him thirteen times before I let him rest.
Grabbing the blood-soaked dagger fris his hands, I proceeded to enter the kitchen, to be greeted by a seen of carnage I would never forget.
I entered to find my parents bloody remains strewn about the floor, and my brother dead on the table, a single dagger wound in his chest.
I vomited then. I convulsed til I thought my stomach would follow. I then blacked out, and awoke hours later in the hospital, desperately clutching the blood-stained knife, not willing to let go for anything.
*********************************************************************
As I open my eyes, I think of what happened after that. The court hearing, in which I was marked as a \"danger to society\" and was sent to an asylum for three years, till they deemed it safe to release me.
I never witnessed the funerals of my family. I am told they were creamated and given to my last living relative, my grandmother, who spread the ashes to the wind. Shortly afterward, she died of natural causes, leaving me as the last living member of my family, and without home. I was sent from orphanage to orphanage after that. I was never adopted because of my cold attitude and seeming hatred of humanity in general.
And so here I lie, after all these trials, clutching this knife, a painful reminder that I had survived, though all that I loved seemed to collaps around me. I was still here, dispite the many nights I had lain in my bed, wishing for death, but never finding it. I had survived all this, and would continue to survive.
_________________________________________________________________________________
I hope it doesn\'t suck to badly. Second chapter soon.
*********************************************************************
It was in the year of 1991, I was a mere twelve years old.I was in the sixth grade at my elementary school, and I quite enjoyed it. That day seemed like any other as I arrived at the campus, nothing was out of the norm, all was well.
As the end of the day aproached, I was eager to get home, as it was a sunny Friday afternoon, and I had every intention of taking advantage of it. The bell finally rang after what seemed an eternity of waiting, and I rushed outside to find my mother waiting to take me home.
As we drove, I was giddy with exitement, as My freinds and I had planned to go on a bike ride, when my mother crushed these hopes by saying that I had to stay home that day because we were to have company. I pouted, very angry at this fact. I argued with her for a while, but finally I sighed in resignation, accepting my defeat.
Later that night, when our guests had left, My little brother and I were playing hide-and-seek, and he was \"it\". I had cleverly managed to get into he vents, in a position where I had a perfect view of the front door, and thus saw him enter. A nameless man, clad all in black and carrying a long knife with a beautifully carved black wooden handle.
He went into the kitchen, where my mother and father were. I heard screams. By the time I had managed to get out of the ventilation, the screams had subsided.
I had long ago learned that my father kept a handgun in his closet, and I hastily retrieved it as I heard more screams, those of my younger brother. As he entered the room, obviously looking for me, I gunned him down. I had shot him thirteen times before I let him rest.
Grabbing the blood-soaked dagger fris his hands, I proceeded to enter the kitchen, to be greeted by a seen of carnage I would never forget.
I entered to find my parents bloody remains strewn about the floor, and my brother dead on the table, a single dagger wound in his chest.
I vomited then. I convulsed til I thought my stomach would follow. I then blacked out, and awoke hours later in the hospital, desperately clutching the blood-stained knife, not willing to let go for anything.
*********************************************************************
As I open my eyes, I think of what happened after that. The court hearing, in which I was marked as a \"danger to society\" and was sent to an asylum for three years, till they deemed it safe to release me.
I never witnessed the funerals of my family. I am told they were creamated and given to my last living relative, my grandmother, who spread the ashes to the wind. Shortly afterward, she died of natural causes, leaving me as the last living member of my family, and without home. I was sent from orphanage to orphanage after that. I was never adopted because of my cold attitude and seeming hatred of humanity in general.
And so here I lie, after all these trials, clutching this knife, a painful reminder that I had survived, though all that I loved seemed to collaps around me. I was still here, dispite the many nights I had lain in my bed, wishing for death, but never finding it. I had survived all this, and would continue to survive.
_________________________________________________________________________________
I hope it doesn\'t suck to badly. Second chapter soon.