The Demon Hunting Journal of Alex Jaeger

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Action / Fantasy
Kristin Dugas
n/a 1 review
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Entry 1

The breeze was light through my hair as squinted through the scope. It was a cool summer night and there would have been a chill on my back if Dustin hadn’t been standing so close to me. His body was much warmer than my own and I could feel the heat radiating off him as leaned over to look at the ground below us. “Steady Alex, you don’t want to miss.” He chuckled as I flicked a strand of my hair from my view. I sighed to let him know I was through with his coaching. “Are you sure he is the one?” he asked just as I brought my breath in, preparing to take my shot.

This comment was enough to really piss me off, so I turned to him and gave him a look that made him instantly raise his hands in defense. “Sorry, you know best.” He chuckled as I turned back to the scope of the gun.

I took in a deep breath as I had every time before, my finger found the cool metal of the sniper rifle easily and as my breath left my lungs, I pulled it. My target was dead in an instant, I saw the blackness of his life force leave his body quickly, snuffed out by my bullet.

Dustin nodded to me as I turned back around and began to pack up the rifle into its case. “You did good Alex, especially for your first time with this gun. A few more weeks with it and you’ll be better than anybody with military training.” He smiled, obviously proud of me.

Unlike a lot of the others, Dustin had somehow come to expect me to amaze him with feats like this. That’s probably why I spent the most time with Dustin, he didn’t look at me like I was some freak of nature. Of course, I definitely am a freak of nature but that doesn’t give anyone the right to look at me like I’m one.

When we got back to The Big House, I kicked the door open since Dustin and I both had our hands full of weapon cases. The entrance way was empty, but the piles of shoes scattered across it told me that everyone else was already home. Dustin and I walked down the hallway to the kitchen where I could smell my dad’s chili cooking on the stove.

“We’re home!” I announced upon walking through the archway and into the kitchen.

Suddenly everyone was on their feet. The twenty or so people who had been sitting by the fireplace in our kitchen stood and clustered around Dustin and I, taking cases out of our hands and asking us all sorts of questions.

By this point in my life, I was fairly used to the muddle of people that occupied my home. We didn’t call it ‘The Big House’ for nothing. It was old and sprawling, with winding hallways and narrow rooms scattered all over the place. The favorite place of most of my family however, was the kitchen, that’s where my dad was usually up late cooking until the last of us trickled home and got something to eat before bed.

Tonight it seemed Dustin and I were the last home, since we were greeted eagerly by most of the older members of the family, the younger ones less prevalent as most of them were probably in bed already.

“I hope you’re hungry sweetie because your father made your favorite, chili.” My Aunt Lilliana, Dustin’s mom, smiled. Then she took the last case from my hands and walked down the hallway to my left where the staircase to the basement was.

“Of course she is! It’s not like she’s got her mother’s appetite!” My father joked as he set two bowls of chili down on the counter. Everyone laughed at his joke but I just sighed as Dustin and I sat down to eat at the counter. All of the adults had taken the chairs from the dinner table to sit in front of the empty fireplace with their tea and coffee.

Dustin was still chuckling when we sat down. I rolled my eyes. “What? It’s still funny even after hearing it for the thousandth time.” He shrugged.

I smiled and shook my head, deciding it was best to concentrate on eating as much chili as possible instead of why Dustin still laughed at the awful jokes my father constantly told. Besides, it isn’t even a big deal. They always joke about what mom is. I thought to myself as I shoveled a spoonful of chili into my mouth. Yeah, just keep telling yourself that Alex. I sighed before focusing all of my thoughts on the chili so I didn’t have to hear the residual laughter leaving my family members’ lips.

After eating three bowls filled to the brim with chili, I was stuffed. On most nights I would have considered staying up and talking with some of the older members of my family but after eating that much chili, and it being out so late and all, I was pretty exhausted. I said goodnight to everyone, including my father, who was just finishing packing the leftover chili in the fridge, and walked up the winding staircase to my bedroom on the third floor.

It was dark in the hallway and dark in my bedroom. I sighed, feeling too lazy to turn on the light I flicked my wrist and a flame snapped into my hand, from there it was just a few more flicks until the candles I had in my room came to life and danced with fire.

Kicking my door closed as I walked inside, I stepped over the pile of books next to my bed and to my dresser, tossing my skin-tight black suit into the hamper and pulling out shorts and a t-shirt. I was planning on brushing my teeth of course, but the chili hit me really hard and I wasn’t particularly interested in standing anymore. So, I decided that before I spent any more energy getting ready for bed I needed to lie down. On your back Alex, you don’t want to explode like a chili stuffed balloon. I smiled before allowing myself to fall onto my bed. Of course, just as I got comfortable, I heard a knock at the door. I mumbled something that sounded vaguely like come in into the pillow I’d thrown over my head. Then I heard someone open the door.

“You did really well today Alex.” Dustin said as he stood in the doorway.

I chuckled and pulled the pillow off my face so he could actually understand what I was saying. “Well, when you mom is a warrior of the lord and your dad is a professional monster hunter, you usually end up with some weaponry skills. You know, mixed in with the glowing eyes and all the other random crap.”

Dustin chuckled uncomfortably. “No Alex, you did a really good job.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned against my doorframe. “It’s not always about your parents you know. Sometimes you are the one who succeeds.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure Dustin.” I rolled my eyes, thoroughly through with him being uncomfortable as I was with him trying to tell me why I was the way I was.

“Well goodnight Alex, see you at breakfast.” Dustin sighed at shut the door. Leaving me to my peace and quiet, and the shadows of my candles flickering in the dark once more.

I looked up over my head to where the set of silver bow and arrows my mother got me for my sixteenth birthday hung above my headboard. I sighed deeply; expelling all the air from my lungs, swirls of silver sparkles erupted from my breath. Of course, if anyone else were watching me, they wouldn’t have seen anything. But I did, freak of nature Alex, whose mom is an angel and dad is a human. A badass human, but still a human.

With that thought, I decided it was best I just go to sleep. There were always nights like this when I would get thinking too much about everything. Thankfully I learned the best way to deal with being me, was to ignore it. With that, I climbed under the covers and with a wave of my hand all the candles in my room went out in an instant.

I wouldn’t consider myself a morning person, but I always manage to wake up easier when I’m at home. I’m not quite sure if it’s the smell of banana pancakes or the sound of my younger cousin’s little feet galloping down the hallways that does it, but somehow I’m always up early enough to catch my grandmother coming back from the market down the street with fresh bread for the toast.

Breakfast time in the big house is a process, it’s certainly not smooth, but somehow we always manage to get everyone one fed and out the door in time to go about their daily routine. It’s the only meal we usually get to eat all together so it’s a little hectic. That’s why when I clomp down the stairs in my fuzzy slippers and my NYC sweatshirt I’m not surprised to find the usual disaster.

The five youngest cousins are all in their usual seats at the counter but they are covered in pancake mix that apparently was spilled as they ran by my dad who was mixing batter and talking on the phone with my grandmother who is furious that the bakery down the street is closed. Of course, my dad is trying frantically to reason with her and explain that it really isn’t imperative that we have toast this morning but she is pretty adamant as usual. Aunt Lilliana is scrambling eggs and trying to explain to her husband, that he shouldn’t be hounding their youngest son, Ben, so much about training and let him have the last year or so he has to be a kid. My grandfather is already sitting at the table with my dad’s youngest brother and are organizing ammo on the breakfast table. Of course, meanwhile my aunt Christine is trying frantically to set the table.

Overall, it was a mess and not everyone was even downstairs yet. Of course, all order usually returned to the younger kids the moment grandmother walked through the door.

Sighing, I took my position inside the kitchen. Placing cups on the counter in front of each of my younger cousins, then I filled them all, pulling the water from the sink in a smooth motion of my hands and transferring it into each cup in one motion. As usual, they all looked at me in awe, despite the fact that I’d probably done this in front of them every morning since they were born. Children are so easily amused.

Next a bowl of batter was thrust into my arms by my father and I began mixing and dolloping onto the open spots on the skillet as my father removed the finished pancakes. With a smile on my face, I decided this was exactly how I wanted my mornings to go for the rest of my life.

“Alexandra,” my grandmother called to me as I placed another plate in the dishwasher. “I am taking the youngins here to the park, would you care to join us?”

I smiled and stood up, wiping my hands on a dishtowel. “I would love to grandma, but I have to get debriefed for last night’s mission.”

She nodded and ushered my cousins out of the kitchen and towards the entranceway. I sighed and turned back to the dishwasher to stuff the last plate inside. Afterwards I strolled out of the kitchen and swiped my field journal off the table by the basement stairs. Its leather was soft and worn and the pages were tattered from being rained on and tossed around.

As I walked down the rickety stairs to the basement I remembered the day I’d gotten it. Sixteen, that’s when you are supposed to have your first mission, of course, I started much earlier than that. I don’t remember the first time I was dragged along on a mission because I was of use. I must have been five or six. Standing on the sidelines with my father carrying me or walking me around. I was supposed to point out the monster, whoever it was, and then I’d be ushered away by my dad so that the crew could take care of it from there. Of course, Dustin argues that this doesn’t really count since I didn’t really get to participate. He’s right, the day you join the crew is the day you get your field journal. For me, that was my twelfth birthday.

I remember it like it was yesterday. An evening mission, simple, silent. It was the perfect first mission. We had gotten intel that there was some type of demon that had set up camp in an abandoned church on the south side of town. We planned to hit at 7pm, of course, since it was late June it was still pretty light out, the crew decided this would be the best time to roll in, considering the demon we were after would probably be laying low before going out that night. I was to be the third man in the door, my uncle Louie would go in first, next would be my dad, and then me, and I’d get to take the shot. One holy water capsule bullet to the heart. The demon would be on the ground in seconds.

Of course, like most first mission stories, mine went just as planned. No surprises, no interferences. The only thing that didn’t go exactly as I planned was the shock I saw in that demon’s eyes when I entered the room. It must have been the sight of such a little girl gunning him down that frightened him. I almost laughed, if only he knew how unlike any other little girl I was.

I stepped onto the cool stone floor of the basement and walked carefully between the cluttered shelves stacked with books, papers, vials, weapons, anything you can possibly think a family of demon hunters could have accumulated over the years. The back section of the basement was a lot less cluttered than the rest of it, since grandpa insisted on keeping the chairs clear for sitting and the table reasonably clean. That day, all the chairs expect for my chair, the one next to my father, were occupied, and the only things on the table were a case of holy water bullets my grandfather seemed to have been counting, and everyone’s field journals.

I sat down in my seat, which just so happened to be across from Dustin’s. He smiled at me like he always did before our debriefs, it was a smile of encouragement, he was trying to tell me not to be too hard on myself, not to be too critical. Well, as usual Dustin, that is not going to happen. I thought to myself.

“So before we begin the debrief is there any new intel to report?” Grandfather asked as usual. To which surprisingly there was no response. “Nothing? Really?” he asked again. We all shook our heads. The demon that Dustin and I had killed was the first one that we’d gotten intel on in over a week. That wasn’t usual, certainly not for summertime.

Grandfather grumbled something that was probably along the lines of us not looking hard enough and shifted in his seat. “Well let’s get on with the debrief then.” He sighed. “Alex, full synopsis on the target.”

I cleared my throat. “Class C demon, male, mid-forties, brown hair, brown eyes. Went by the name Todd Clarkson on his ID, which was fake.” I rolled off my tongue. My field journal was open and all the information I stated was in it, but I never really needed it for debriefs, it was more of a formality.

“And you identified him by?” My grandfather asked, he probably already knew the answer though, most of the missions I went on didn’t require any further identification then me looking at them.

“Aura color.” I answered, as usual.

I got a nod and then he moved on to Dustin “And the weaponry report Dustin?”

Dustin glanced down at his journal and began to read off the weapons we took on the mission, and which one we used to make the kill.

“And who made the shot son?” Grandfather asked, recording the gun we used in his journal.

“Alex did.” Dustin smiled “She did a hell of a job too, one bullet straight through the heart from a quarter mile away.”

Everyone sitting at the table nodded their approval and my father smiled at me the way he always did when I did something particularly impressive.

Grandfather was sitting back in his chair now, with his hands clasped on his lap. “That is one hell of a shot, especially since,” He paused and turned back a few pages in his journal until he found what he was looking for. “that was the first time you’d ever shot that gun.”

“Well it was a little reckless of me to try and take it since I had no prior experience.” I frowned. I mean, I knew it was a great shot, but at the same time, could they not see that this whole Nephilim thing was going to run out eventually. At some point, I was going to find something I couldn’t do, right?

“No, no, Alex. You knew you could make the shot and you took it, there is no use doubting yourself. Especially not after proving it was possible.” Grandfather said “Now, let’s get to the rest. What was done with the body?”

I let Dustin take the rest of the debrief, he had done it a million times before just like me, and I wasn’t really feeling the whole talking thing right now. Besides, sometimes I liked getting lost in the swirl of auras that I always saw around me. At the table there was a heavy concentration of the light grey that I always associated with humans. They all have about the same aura, at least in color; it’s the feeling that really tells you a lot about a person though, not the color. Color gives you species, human, demon, or angel, and of course then there’s me. I’m a fun mix of human and angel, at least that’s the best way to describe it, my aura is like this sparkly silver color, whereas humans have light greyish auras and angels have this iridescent white aura. Of course, the auras I am usually looking for are the black ones, demons.

Overall it probably sounds like a pretty unamusing thing to be able to see, and to be honest it isn’t that exciting. It’s the not-visual stuff that’s really interesting. Like if I don’t focus my eyes, or I close them, I can feel these deeper aspects to everyone’s auras. It’s not like they are an actual color, but they usual just remind me of a feeling.

For example, Dustin’s aura reminds me of the fireplace in the kitchen. Sometimes when I close my eyes next to him, I can feel the comfort wash over me in a wave. I told him this once, he laughed at me a bit. Despite his initial awkwardness about it though, he was actually kind of interested in the whole thing.

I guess that’s something that humans have going for them above demons and angels, they have this special curiosity in the way things work. I think I have that too, at least a little more than angels and demons do anyway. It’s always confused me why angels and demons never stop and ask any questions about the world, meanwhile humans are discovering things and end up being the only ones who are actually interested at all in how any of us came to be. Instead of having any interest in the past, angels and demons are just caught in their never-ending war against each other. Honestly, I don’t think either side has really stepped back and thought about what got them started in the first place.

The debrief ended with the usual jargon from grandpa, something along the lines of job well done, if only we had a crew like you in my day, etcetera. I wasn’t really listening because at this point I realized that things were moving really slow, and I was certainly not a necessity at the moment to the crew, so there might be a small possibility that I’d get to visit my mom.

This honestly didn’t happen often, I usually get to see her once or twice a year. She always makes a point to come for my birthday and then occasionally there is a point in the year where I am not too busy with crew missions and she is not too busy on some holy crusade where I actually get to see her. Don’t feel too bad for me though, you have to understand that real angels are nothing like the ones humans talk about. Heck, they don’t even actually call themselves angels, that’s the human name for them. They are warriors, literally warriors. I swear that what I gather from my mom talking about their schools that they learn nothing but how to use their powers and their weapons to kill demons.

“So dad,” I started, I was trying my hardest to look extra hopeful so that he’d be more likely to say I could visit mom. “I was wondering…”

Before I could finish he looked down at me and sighed “Yes Alex, go ahead and visit your mother. I do expect you to be home in two days though. We are bound to get a mission sooner or later and I’d rather you be here for it.”

A smile to my father and a fist bump to Dustin as he walked by and I was on my way, dashing up the stairs to my room to pack a bag.

I’m not quite sure what normal girls pack when they visit a separated parent, but I am quite certain that it’s not what I pack. My bag is usually brimming with all the angel weaponry that my mom has given me over the years. The throwing knives she gave me for my tenth birthday, the sword she gave me for my thirteenth, and the bow and arrow she gave me for my sixteenth are among my favorites. Sometimes I thrown another weapon or two she’s given me into the mix but today I decided to just toss my pistol in my bag, she always enjoys getting to try human weapons.

I passed by Dustin’s bedroom as I left and waved goodbye then headed up to the roof of the house through the window by the stairwell. After climbing to the apex of the shingled roof, I sat. This was how I got a ride from my mom. Another thing I’m sure most kids don’t really relate to.

All angels have a mental connection to each other that they can tap into and communicate through. Since I’m half angel I can do this too, but unfortunately I’m pretty bad at it. It’s mostly just because I don’t use it very often, at least that’s what my mom tells me. She thinks that since I’ve been tuning it out my whole life as background noise, because it interferes with my daily life, that I have a hard time tapping into it so I can actively use it again. She is probably right, I remember when I was younger sometimes I would hear voices when no one was around, after a while I put two and two together and figured out it was just angels talking. As I’ve gotten older this happens less and less, now it really doesn’t happen at all anymore.

So when I sit on the roof I usually think as hard as I can, I scream my mother’s name in my head until I start to hear the connection fade in, then I usually just think at a normal volume and ask her to pick me up.

Of course, I always expect that she might be busy and won’t be able to come and get me or spend time with me. One thing I have learned over the years is to be ready before she gets here, since angels aren’t really known for their patience.

“Hello Alexandra.” My mother smiles as she suddenly appears in front of me. As usual, she looks amazing, that’s the thing about angels, somehow they manage to look badass and gorgeous all at the same time. She is wearing athletic wear as she usually does when we meet, since we will probably be training all afternoon it’s for the best.

“Hey mom, how’s work been?” I ask her as I stand up and toss my backpack over my shoulder.

She smiles; thankfully, unlike the majority of angels she has come to have some understanding of my jokes. Any jokes for that matter. “Things are well; we infiltrated a large organization of Ghanom worshipers last week.”

I smiled at her use of the angel words for ‘demon worshipers’. Thankfully, I’ve come to understand it over the years, but when mom comes by for my birthday every year I always feel as though I’m translating for the rest of my family.

With that, she took my hand and the world around us suddenly changed around me. We were standing at our usual practicing spot. I’m not sure exactly where it is on Earth to be honest with you. I mean we just kind of teleport there, that’s another thing angels do you see. Of course like the whole telepathic connection thing, mom insists that I’d be able to do it myself if I only tried to use it more often. Of course, I’m not too fond of experimenting since she is still unsure. I mean it’s not like there are any previous cases to base my powers off of, I’m the first and probably the last of my kind.

That being said, I’m fairly certain I’m the only curiosity that any angel has ever experienced. I mean they honestly are curious about nothing, nothing except me that is. Most of them aren’t even curious about me, but my mom is, and so are some of the other angels. They like to come to the practice field here and watch me use my powers. I think they just are curious how much of them I have inherited.

From what my mother understands, I’ve inherited all of them. The only thing that makes me different from the angels is my aura color and the fact that I age normally, as humans do.

This time the practice field is empty besides us, it seems no one else is really free to come and watch me today. I’m pretty ok with that since it means I get to spend more time training and less time answering questions. Also it means I get to tell jokes without a whole crowd of people looking at me like I have three heads.

My mom looks at me and smiles as I pull my backpack off my shoulder and sling it onto the ground. “How have you been Alexandra?” She asks me as I sit down on the grass to retie my sneakers.

“I’ve been well. Nothing particularly interesting has been going on. Work has actually been kind of slow this summer.” I shrug and stand back up, beginning my usual stretches before we begin training.

She nods, looking off into the distance like she is listening to another angel in her head. “We have noticed the same.” She turns back to me, looking curious as always “So have you had any new developments?”

She always asks me if my powers change since our last meeting and almost every time my answer is no. They haven’t really altered or gotten much more interesting in a few years now but this time I actually have two things to tell her.

“Well I one shot a Ghanom with a gun I’d never used from a quarter mile away.” I smiled, placing my hands on my hips.

Of course since she has spent a considerable amount of time with hunters like me and my father she knows what a gun is and I can tell she is instantly impressed. “It seems as though your ability to adapt to weaponry is perhaps greater than that of an angel.”

I nod, agreeing that it probably is, and is therefore super cool. “I also feel like my water control got a major upgrade.” I smile as I lift my arms out palms facing upwards to the sky on either side of me. As I do the droplets of dew that had been scattered across the field all rise up to my height where they stand suspended in the air.

A clap from my mother tells me she is pleased. “This is very, very good Alexandra. Your powers are continuing to expand. I really believe it is time you come and stay with the other angels and I for a bit.”

I feel like I’d always known this was coming. On my tenth birthday my mother brought me to heaven, my bad not heaven, that’s our made up word for it. The angels call it Salisiam. I really don’t know how else to describe it though. I mean there is a lot of white and there are a lot of angels. Besides that, it’s pretty much nothing like heaven at all. For one thing, no one goes there when they die, yeah that’s not even sort of a thing. It’s also not above earth or anything. It’s more like a separate plane of existence or dimension, at least that’s all I can figure out. Of course, if the angels gave a wing where they came from or anything about what happens when they die they might have thought to investigate. Of course, as I mentioned earlier, they are very boring and not very creative in general.

Salisiam is pretty much just a huge, huge building. With indoor gardens and all sorts of things. There are windows of course, but the outside is just like a white washed earth. Of course, it doesn’t matter what it looks like outside because no one ever leaves the building. They just teleport there and back.

Despite feeling like it was only a matter of time before my mother invited me to live with her and the other angels in Salisiam I am still somewhat surprised. Especially since I still have no ability to teleport, living there would be like living in a prison. Besides the only person I would really know is my mother and I have this feeling most angels aren’t too good at making friends.

“Mom,” I sigh, she looks rather excited about the idea of me staying with her “I’m not sure if I can leave the crew, I mean especially not when I can’t get back right away if there is an emergency. Besides I am pretty sure none of the teachers would allow me into their classes when I don’t even have all of the abilities everyone else has.”

See that was always the plan. When I was a kid my mother would tell me that if I expressed all of the powers that an angel did I could be invited to live with her and the other angels in Salisiam and study at the angel schools. Of course when I was a kid this sounded amazing, but that was before I knew how difficult it would be to relate to other angels.

She smiled sadly at me, I honestly think that was the first time I’d ever seen her sad. “I understand. You are right; you really do need to have completed powers before living with us.”

I nod to her, thankful that discussion is now over and grab my bow off the ground. I’m much more comfortable training than talking.

There are some days when you can just feel the improvements you are making. Today was not one of those days. The first thing my mom and I worked on was my water bending ability. It is probably one of my best and has been improving recently, so of course things started out pretty good. I was able to control everything perfectly and even was able to set a personal record for the amount of water I was moving at once. From here, we moved on to telekinesis, which, I’m going to be honest, I am absolutely terrible at. The worst part about this is that I recognize how much help it could be in a fight.

See the simple telekinesis that angels can perform just includes the movement of small object such as a sword or a bow. Of course, this is very useful in a fight if you are separated from your weapon. Thankfully, for me I’ve never really had much of a problem with this since I pretty much show up everywhere armed to the teeth. Honestly though, I don’t even show up to school unarmed. Don’t mention that to anyone though. I am pretty sure the Philadelphia school district isn’t a huge fan of firearms and knives in class.

So after spending half an hour trying to make my handgun fly off the ground into my hand I had finally had enough. “This really isn’t working.” I let out a short sigh.

“You need to concentrate all of your thoughts on the movement.” My mother assured me as she made the gun fly up off the ground into her hand.

“I really just can’t focus right now.” I shook my head. “Can we move on to something else for now?”

My mother nodded and we proceeded through training in the usual fashion. This meant that unfortunately my fire bending abilities were up next on the list, another thing I really wasn’t good at. Of course at least this I could do poorly, I was actually able to spark my fingers together and produce a flame. With the whole telekinesis thing I was pretty helpless. I honestly wasn’t even sure if I had that ability at all. The only reason we had added it to the training sessions was that one time I was pretty sure I moved my pencil without touching it. Now every time that we practiced I became more and more certain that I had been wrong.

Of course, you probably know how frustrating that is. Most people at least have a moment when they are younger that they are certain they are different or special, that they can do something extraordinary. They are only disappointed when after enormous effort they remain unable to produce any proof of their abilities. This is how I feel trying to practice telekinesis.

We were about halfway through our usual fire routine, at this point I was trying, and failing, to shoot small balls of fire at targets set up ten feet away from me. For some reason the whole circular thing with fire never seems to click fully in my head. It was at this moment that I thought I saw something, a burst of red through the green leaves of the trees to my left. I stopped, startled by the color and turned, peering into the dense foliage.

“Alexandrea, do you see something?” My mother asked me, she came to my side and began peering into the forest as well.

I shook my head “It was probably nothing. I just thought I saw something red in the trees.”

My mother looked confused and a bit startled, but she had obviously not seen what I had seen.

The one semi-normal thing my mom and I always do together is sit and talk around a fire. I know the tent, fire and food are all just for me, but every time I visit she brings them and we set them up in the practice field. It’s really nice to be honest, sort of like a camping trip with just the two of us, and since wherever we are on Earth is pretty much in the middle of nowhere the stars are incredible and there is no one around to bother us. Besides, when your mom can use telekinesis to set up the tent in seconds and you can start a fire with the flick of your wrist, camping really is a breeze.

My mom laughed as I lit my marshmallow on fire. She had one of her own and though had never needed to eat in her life she loves marshmallows.

“What good are my fire powers if I can’t toast a perfect marshmallow.” I laugh as I let it slip from my stick and into the fire. Only to replace it with a new one from the large bag beside me.

She chuckled again “Perhaps they’re useful for killing Ghanom Alexandra.”

I shook my head. “Come on, you know I could never actually use them to kill demons. Most of my powers are so conspicuous. I might as well make a neon sign that says freak and hang it from my neck.”

“Oh Alex, you’re not a freak. Your powers are a gift and you should be proud of them and who you are.” She smiled sadly at me.

I sighed, my frown slowly turning to a chuckle. “Yeah I mean I guess I haven’t sprouted wings yet so I can’t officially move to ‘freak’ status. Maybe I’m cursed to remain only a ‘weirdo’ for the rest of my days.”

“You know, I wouldn’t be too surprised if your wings started sprouting soon.” She said as she popped her marshmallow into her mouth.

I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t a little startled. I had honestly never really even thought I’d get wings with all this. I mean wouldn’t human life span mean human body which therefore means no wings. It sounds pretty logical to me. “You’ve got to be joking me. It’s hard enough to pretend to be normal at school now.”

My mom tried to smile but I could see the pain in her eyes, she understood how hard it was for me, at least she tried to. No one else besides her had ever even tried to do that. Everyone either looked at me as if being me was easier than being human, or more often, as if I were only some sort of weapon to be used in the fight against evil. Despite the fact that my mom still usually looked at me as if I were some sort of weapon, at least on occasion she took the time to recognize that it wasn’t easy being split between two worlds like I was.

“You know,” She began, looking down at the stick in her hands as she spoke “when I met your father I never thought I would pass as a ‘normal’ college student.” She looked up at me, her face glowing as she lost herself in her memories.

I raised an eyebrow “Well, did you pass as a ‘normal’ college student?”

“Oh Salisiam no!” She laughed. “Your father spotted me as something strange the moment he saw me. I was on a mission, tracking down the leader of a Ghanom faction that was causing particular trouble. I didn’t get very far before your father intercepted me. Of course, I tried to tell him I was just a biology student from the college but he saw right through me. In the end Alexandra, I told him the truth and he accepted me for who I was.” She sighed “The point is, there is no use trying to be someone you’re not. Anyone worth your time will accept you for who you are.”

I rolled my eyes. I mean I wasn’t going to lie, it was a good story at all. Besides I had never really heard too much about how my parents met besides what my dad had told me which always went a little like a rehearsed bullet list he probably had to say to grandpa in order for him to not freak out when he heard about it. ‘I was on the job, we worked together, the Ghanom faction is all dead, but… things got a little out of hand.’ But despite how nice of a story it all was, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. What did my mom expect me to do? Walk into school with my wings unfurled and say ‘look at me bitches, I’m a freaking angel so deal with it’? That is sure to land me in a lab being experimented on for the rest of my life by the government. “Mom what do you expect me to do with this, I can’t exactly tell my classmates.”

She sighed “I know, I know, your father has told me that much about how your world works. Regardless, I meant more at a personal level, with people you may be interested in.” her mouth grew thin as she finished and she looked at me a bit sheepishly.

“Ew mom, gross!” I shouted, laughing as I shook my head. “I have no interest in boys right now, all the ones I know are either clueless and dumb or asshole hunters that think they’re the best around.”

“Oh thank Salisiam!” She shook her head. “I was worried you wanted to talk about boys.” She seemed really relieved and to be honest so was I, my life hadn’t really given me a lot of time to think about that kind of stuff and I was happy for it. “But not all of them are bad, isn’t that Dustin boy nice?” She asked.

“Double ew, he’s related to me mom.” I almost choked on another marshmallow.

She chuckled “Oh right, I forgot about that. It is quite hard to keep track of everyone your father is related to.”

In the end, it was a nice night and an even better weekend. Of course, the next morning was filled with endless amounts of training. By the end of it my mom swore I’d shown some improvement in my ability to bend fire to my will and she swore she saw my knife clatter a bit when I tried to bring it into my grasp. However, I am pretty sure she just said that to make me feel a bit better at my lack of progress. Either way I returned home rested and relaxed, at least as much of either of those two things as I could ever be.

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saracincu15: I ABSOLUTELY LOVED this story I loved the emotional words you put into this it was indeed beautifully written. I loved the flashbacks it sort or gave overall it was one of the best books I’ve read!!!

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Kennesha Mair: The story plot is good. However, going back and forth between first and third person needs improvement.

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