book prologue

Prologue

With "Love," My Dear...

My mother, as one of the four obsidian demons, was not well liked. It always amazes me as to how the dumb are always the ones blessed with power or beauty. Apparently some black witch agreed and wanted to do something about it.
The black witch had lived almost happily with her spouse and two children. What made her a black witch, I have yet to find out, but, back to the lesson. My mother was the type of demon to bash apart any family or couple. To make more sense of this, I will tell you that each obsidian demon, although made of stone and energy, held a dominant emotion. As there were only four, they held the names: Hatred, Sorrow, Passion, and last of all, my mother, Love.
As I've stated before, Love was not well liked. You would think that because she was called Love, she would be peaceful and kind, but not at all. As she was a demon, she held only the type of love that would compel one to destroy all those that had it, believing they were taking it from her. In a sense, she was not the most intelligent, nor sane, of her kind.
As to how the witch fits in, I am getting there. The young woman had been attending her regular housework and gardening duties, unaware that Love had been watching her for many days. Love was, of course, filled with envy. Envy itself is part of any and almost every demon and is not considered a true emotion in their terms...or I believe her calling would've been quite different.
The witch's husband had come home late afternoon and it was while they were having dinner that Love made her move. The couple had been sharing a sweet, short kiss and the two children were giggling when the candles had gone out; it wasn't at all due to a draft in the room. The whimpers of the children and the echoing yelp of the man were quickly gone as fast as they had begun. The witch had been the only one to stay silent, somehow knowing it had kept her alive at the moment the candles had been put out.
Love knew the woman could be dangerous because of the energy ebbing off of her, but she couldn't think seriously through her demon form and the witch knew that. Love had grinned quite haughtily, not knowing that the witch had grinned sadly the same moment.
The candle flickered back to life after a sudden blood chilling scream and the demon lay at the witch's feet. She, like many others, had known of Love's reputation.
"Ah, Love," the witch spoke softly, "Although you have taken everything dear to me, i still feel sorrow on your part. A being such as yourself deserves to be punished but you also deserve real love before hand. May your soul heal...then burn in the fiercest fire."
The witch's head began to nod as she had mumbled a short incantation, Love watching her with wide green eyes. Moments after smiling at Love, the witch dissolved; She would never come back to this world after all the life she had used to cast the spell on Love.
Love had not felt any different and had run out of the house in a daze. As i have stated before, Love was not the most intelligent, nor sane, demon there was. She took the witch's words for nothing and continued her tirade of murder and blood spill as even some demons would have then been cautious of.



Merely years later, Love lay dying and blood drenched on the floor with the only thing she had ever truly loved cradled in her arms. The young witch had cursed Love to become infatuated with the next enemy she would encounter while killing all those years before. She had almost immediately held a demon slayers mind and made him falsely love her as she had believe she loved him.
It lasted years then only nights after having her half-human, half-demon daughter, Love had foolishly relinquished her hold on the slayers mind. As any strong minded slayer would have done, he killed the demon in sight with the first weapon he could find, a twelve-inch rusty farmer's blade.
He sunk the ragged steel into the flesh of her stomach and Love's eyes widened as she saw her mistake. Shile she fell to the ground, she had sent a single last thought through her child's mind, hoping the small girl would heed her warning and lead a better life then Love had, herself. The slayer stood over them, staring down at the bundle in the demons arms. Although he had just come to his senses, he knew the child was of his own blood.
He threw the demon's arms off the child with ease and lifted her out of the blood-stained blankets. Her iris's shown a bright green and her pupils were mere slits, much like a cats, but her light pink skin made her seem human. Her hair had not yet grown but he doubted it would be too unusual to cover up with calling it a birth defect or small indifference. He smoothed his hands over her small head as she stared at him blankly....or so he thought. He never knew of the hatred the child held for him, because, unlike her mother, the child was highly adept even as a newborn child. Knowing the reason for all of what she had witness and even though she wanted to kill him with her bare hands, she knew she had to stay cute and pink. For her mother's last words of warning were still echoing through her mind.

"Stay hidden child of my blood. Stay hidden."