Once upon a time there was a boy and a girl who in true heterosexual fashion met and fell in love. Those would be my parents. They also happened to be demon hunters. I know, I know you’ve heard this story before, but be patient will ya there’s more here than meets the eye (at least for the sake of my wallet I hope you see it that way). My father had been fighting the supernatural ever since he was a kid, it was kind of the family business, while my mother got into it as a hobby in high school when it turned out she was the chosen one in some lame-o prophecy. After stopping the world from ending she could’ve retired but she felt compelled to continue.
Their stars collided when they both ended up working a case involving a really freaky possession. Sparks flew and yadda yadda, skipping ahead to my birth. My mom was supposed to take some time off after she reached the second trimester, at least that was the plan. The lure of the fight however was still too strong. She promised she’d stick with silly domestic shit like banshees and the like and my dad reluctantly agreed. This worked out okay until one mind numbingly boring baby sitting gig resulted in a vampire child summoning Faust (no not that one) who in turn fought my mother who was actually still in top form. The sucky part happened when she was momentarily distracted still trying to protect the kid when old Faust scratched her on the belly and uttered some odd spell.
My mom managed to exorcise the ass- hole but was quickly rushed to the hospital. My father at this point refused to let her go on anymore missions until I was born and she finally agreed that was best.
The day I was born was the stuff of apocalypses. I’m talking raining frogs, swarming locust, and spontaneous combustion (alright maybe not spontaneous combustion).
“Are we there yet!” my mother yelled at the top of her lungs gripping her stomach like it was the only thing preventing her from giving birth right then and there.
“We’re close,” my dad assured her. “This rain is just killing us. Holy shit was that a lizard.”
“It was a frog I think, it had a little- ERAAAAAH!”
“Shit,” my father almost swerved. Cars were honking and up a head he saw police vehicles gathered around a crash. “No, no, no, not now,” he hissed. Breaking he told my mother to stay put and that he’d be right back (relax he doesn’t die here its’ not that kind of story). “Hey-” he waved to an officer “-are all of you needed here because my wife’s about to give birth and I work for S.I.A so if I could just slip through…” The two cops stared open mouthed, clearly impressed with pop’s credentials and after some stuttering and fumbling the smaller of the two piped up.
“Of course sir,” he said. “No one here needs the hospital- er except your wife, we’ll give you a police escort you just hold tight.” Mumbling some incoherent mumbo jumbo in his walkie talkie the man moved to his vehicle while the other went back to the car crash at hand. My dad then ran back to his car and got moving ignoring my mother shouting every profanity known to man, demon, and god. Between my parents weight and the cop they made it to the hospital in no time and were quickly given a room.
Now of course for the pièce de résistance, after an insanely intense amount of hours of hard labor little ol’ me was finally here, but there was a catch. On my head I’d sported a pair of lovely Hellboy-esque horns.
“It’s a girl, I think,” the doctor said clearly confused (but not so confused that he dropped me [I’d hate to know what he’d seen]). My father (bless him) immediately recalled my mother’s fight with Faust not even considering that my mother could have cheated on him.
“That scar,” he said holding my mom’s hand. “You said it started hurting when your water broke, but I just thought that was normal, maybe he put some kind of curse on you.”
***To be continued