I was born seventeen years ago, in a dilapidated cabin in the middle of winter. We go back there once a year, when we can make it. Sometimes Grandpa meets us there. He always seems to know when we’re going. Strange, considering we barely speak to him.
You see, Grandpa travels a lot, but he would pop in on us suddenly from time to time. Somehow he could always find us, even though we moved around a lot ourselves. But more on that later.
Grandpa treats me well enough but with a certain distance, as if after all this time, he still isn’t sure about me. He never did love me. Oh, he was kind and attentive. He taught me so much, what little time I got to see him.
Did I mention Grandpa travels a lot? He is an obsessed man.
I mentioned that we go back to that run down shack in the woods once a year, didn’t I? You can’t even call it a cabin anymore. Nobody has lived in it since I was a baby, and it’s even more run down now, falling over practically.
If it’s so run down, why do we go there, one might ask.
Out behind that little falling-down-shack is a single grave with no marker, other than a large rock. My mother.
I still remember her face, how she looked when she kissed me just before she closed her eyes forever. I remember her smell, her voice, everything. You wouldn’t think that was remarkable, except that I had just been born a moment before.
That’s right. She died giving birth to me. I guess that makes it my fault she’s dead. Maybe that’s why Grandpa could never bring himself to love me, for I am partly responsible for his daughter’s death. Or maybe it’s for another reason.
That brings me back to Grandpa’s obsession. He hunts for monsters, demons. It consumes him.
There was a time when Dad and I traveled with Grandpa. It was just for a couple of years. That time ended when I was twelve years old. I was attacked by a demon Dad and Grandpa were tracking. I guess it was tracking them at the same time. It found me, alone, and ill-equipped to face such a monster. It nearly killed me. Dad and Grandpa showed up just in time. They fended it off, and it escaped.
After that, Dad decided he would retire from the demon hunting business. Grandpa continued alone.
What is the reason for Grandpa’s obsession?
Grandpa hunts one particular demon.
While searching for that one, he often discovers others. Since he can’t kill the one he wants, he kills what he can find.
He will not say the name of the one he hunts. Saying the name would attract its attention. Grandpa is only trying to keep Dad and me safe by not telling us.
He needn’t bother. I know its name. I’ve known my entire life.
The demon Grandpa searches for is my father, my real father.
Yes, I am half-demon – a monster, I suppose. I also suppose that is why Grandpa can’t truly love me; I am not quite human.
Dad, the man that raised me, keeps us in hiding. We never stay in one place for very long. He has never said it out loud, but he fears for my safety, for my life. If others discovered me, what I am, what I can do, they would hurt me, maybe try to capture me, study me, or even kill me. Dad worries about that a lot.
I know he worries about it because I can hear his thoughts, when I’m trying to. I don’t try very often. I learned early on that it’s an intrusion, and people resent it. It scares them.
I have other powers, some only recently discovered and unhoned. And some that I won’t speak of, just yet.
I can put my thoughts into the heads of others, and I can affect them. It took most of my childhood to learn to control it. I know that was the part that scared Dad the most.
If he only knew what else I can do.
If I only knew what else I can do.
I practice, hone my skills, but only when alone. By some instinct, I sense I’m not strong enough, yet.
But I will be.
My name is Elan. I am half-demon, and I will kill my demon father.
Author note: Fans of the Cleo series will recognize this as a sequel. To experience the original story of Cleo and how Elan came to be, click here.