Prologue
Harper and Geoffrey Daralsom had three kids.
The eldest, Fiona Daralsom, was lovely looking, and one day, they were sure she would be a wonderful wife, washing the house and tending to it. She did her maidenly duties well, to put it finely.
The middle child, Henry Daralsom, was strong and handsome, and he Wassi charismatic but loving, and he would one day rise to a noble position, with a noble house, family, wife and life.
It was their last child that was the issue. Geoffrey and Harper has no idea why their youngest was a monster, for she seemed alright at first. Even as a tiny baby, she had been calm and friendly, cooing here and there, but not often. She had a pleasant face even then; not stunning but not bad to look at.
And lovely dark hair that was soft and fine. She was a perfect child up till the age of three, clever and cute. She had never done anything wrong, and was a model child for their whole village. Harper loved the pride of such a batch of offspring, and Geoffrey often indulged himself in a bit of bragging now and then, as was every parent’s right.
But after the day she turned three, everything changed. Dishes would clatter to the floor, lights and candles would flicker on and off, and dogs were always baking during the dark hours of the night. Wherever the child would go, trouble was sure to follow.
Of course, first the two parents thought it chance. Earthquakes, or the two older ones playing and hitting the wall, making it shake. Maybe lots of birds about at midnight, or gasses in the air. But by the time she was four, it had gotten so bad that you couldn’t spend two hours without an issue sprouting up.
The mishaps also got worse, like wind shattering all the glass in the house, or the whole town losing every single left sock, or the television only showing Spanish, Latin, Dutch or Chinese. As time went by, the family began to turn to new solutions. They wore garlics round their neck, and spent more time at prayer. They obeyed every superstition and we’re cautious to only do good.
Yet it kept happening. Finally, after one and a half years of torment, they called in the priest. He cautioned them to ensure they were generous and thoughtful, and keep the girl locked in her room, hidden from the town. Then he explained to the town about storms disturbing the peace.
Harper and Geoffrey listened and did as they were bid do. And the occurrences lessened, but didn’t stop. For six months, there were half the problems. But then, one day, the whole house collapsed, and there was a terrible storm. Lightning and thunder crashed down, blazing fire all through the town, and the neighbouring ones as well. For two whole days, it remained, ravaging hundreds of lives.
And then it stopped. And after that, the mishaps came back frequently. The priest performed rituals, and even crucified the poor young girl. None of it helped though. And so, the family moved again and again, hiding the girl wherever they went. They hid her curse as well as they could, running with the demon.
