My mom was super tired at this point, but she agreed that there was definitely some demon shit going on with me. Unfortunately the doctor had pretty much zero ideas on how to deal with it, and after it was determined that there was nothing physically wrong with me or my mother the three of us were cleared to go home, horns and all.
Eventually my parents went back to work and I was left with all manner of baby sisters and nannies all of whom were briefed on my unique affliction. At age two Olga (my care taker at the time) and I discovered that I was much stronger than the average toddler when I lifted her clear off the ground when she blocked my path to the kitchen.
“Horns Mr. and Mrs. Hunter are one thing,” Olga sniffed bombarding my parents the moment they returned home, “but that child is a beast.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” my father glared at her in a warning tone.
“She lifted me off the ground and tossed me around like I was some-some- beach ball,” Olga cried. “Don’t bother trying to compensate me, I just want to leave.” With that she pushed passed my father and gave my mother one last disapproving look before heading to her car. My parents dashed inside to find me sleeping soundly on the couch and decided that Olga would be my last human sitter. This of course didn’t make much of a difference when it came to Jeremy.
A vampire with a stunning reputation, excellent childcare services, and who was not immune it turns out from being freaked out by a child reading his mind and telling him his worst fears. My parents at this point decided to find someone to figure out what my abilities were and teach me how to control them lest I end up a freaky loner with trust issues.
The joke was on them though, because at age 18 I’d decided to become just that after a particularly nasty evening ended with a demon coming out of the depths of who knows where to take me back ‘home’.
“Yeah, I’m not planning on being apart of any ancient prophecy thanks, but no,” I said as I grabbed my helmet off the kitchen counter.
“What’s wrong with being ‘the chosen one’,” my mother pouted indignantly.
“Plenty! I’m not interested in saving the world I’ve never asked for these powers, I don’t want to get attacked by anymore demons, and for the love of all that is holy I’m not going to-”
Yeah sorry I’m cutting myself off here this is a bit of a standard tirade. Either way, as far as I know I’m still not any sort of chosen one, but my attitudes changed big time. During my self pity journey of self discovery my powers came in handy more times than I can count.
Which brings me finally to the here and now. Zenobia ‘Z’ Hunter, age 26 sitting at bar having just saved it from a Swamp monster. Not as cool a story as it sounds.
“I’ll have something really strong, really fruity, and on your tab,” I told the bartender as I wiped the last of the swamp off of my jacket. The man nodded still clearly too freaked out to argue with the subject of payment.
“Damn lady you showed that thing no mercy,” another bar occupant said moving to a seat closer to me. “You do that kinda thing often?”
“Fight Swamp Monsters,” I bit my lip thoughtfully. “No not that often actually, but I have been known to kick demon ass on occasion. As well as preform an occasional exorcism.” The fan in question nodded in awe. He was a little bit taller than me, which wasn’t saying much given that I was 5’3 and looked a little young to be hanging out where alcohol was being served. “You a student?” I asked not wanting to deal with underage drinking on top of the creature from the black lagoon.
“Yes,” he admitted, “but I’m not underage. I just turned 22, and I’m graduating soon. I’m going to be a nurse.”
***to be continued