2 First Blood

Lille's babbling became more coherent. I spoke to her and she responded. I had only dispassionately watched Iehan raise his children. Interacting with Lille was engaging in a way that I had forgotten could exist. She was a curious child and often acted out stories for me with her dolls. She saw me but wasn't afraid of me.

Her parents were unwelcome intruders on our quiet times together. They smiled dumbly and were proud at how fast she was developing. They enrolled her in advanced schooling to foster her genius.

Her parents often ran into the room at night when Lille and I talked to look for an intruder. They were never satisfied with Lille saying she was talking to Aaron, the name I gave her for now. She was too young to command my full name, though she was still my mistress. It seemed her memories as Iehan had not returned nor did I hope they ever would.

Lille told me all her secrets in a language we shared. I taught it to her in an attempt to spark her memories but when nothing came, I gave up hope on that vector. She was intelligent and vivacious, I could work with that. She was far more interesting than Iehan had when made our pact.

My little mistress grew older, her toys got more refined and made her beloved dolls from sticks and bones she found in the woods behind their home. Her parents looked at the dolls and her playing with her invisible friend as a phase she'd grow out of. But one day, Lille said something that put her dad off.

Her father cornered her and started yelling at her in French but I stopped him from touching her. He tried to strike her again and I denied him. He stood shaking with impudent rage as Lille ran away to hide. If I could have ripped his head from his body to ensure he never raised a hand to my girl again, I would have.

Her mother was concerned but did nothing but pray, with such questionable faith, they could not deny me Lille's company.

Lille was frightened of her father but did not want him harmed, but he drank heavily when he was alone with Lille, his hatred festering within him. She loved to run, and jump from trees.

She was an active child but the other children sensed something strange about her. They treated her poorly and often tried to tease her. I taught her how to fight to protect herself in the moments that I could not. I often left her alone at school because it was cloistered from the general rabble in a private institution.

There were teachers and holy men every where but it was fine. They couldn't bar me entrance with her. It was rare, but I sometimes wandered away to do research. I found that the distance I could travel from her increased with both her age and the strengthening of our relationship.

I realized too late that I had made a mistake. Little girls aren't supposed to know how to hurt men like I knew how. I bring death and chaos in my wake but she was still Lille, a little girl being bullied in school.

I had only stepped away from Lille for a moment and then next, I felt a searing pain as something happened to her. She must've beaten one of those little pr*cks to death at the private school she attended. When I returned to her I saw my Lille bound to a table with priests and nuns, chanting, praying, weeping with rosaries and bibles in hands. She was just a child and those b*stards dared bind her? Where were Lille's worthless parents?

I looked for them and found them cowering in the back of the sanctuary. Surely, they'd stop this? No. It seemed they were in on this betrayal. I wanted to twist her father's head from his body. But I heard Lille's cries and turned my attention to her.

Lille screamed for me to save her from the priests and their scary words.

She cried as I tried to reach her, and throw off the priests. Lille had to get away, they'd ruin everything and scar her for life if the exorcism went through. The idiots didn't know nor care what they were doing. Her using our language only gave the priests more fervor.

I had tossed one priest aside when I felt power biting into me and chaining me down. I had survived all this time and yet, something had finally noticed me. It must have been the power of the words. Not many children speak the language of angels and it attracted attention as someone was invoking the names of the angels and god to drive out a demon from a body that was not there.

Lille's eyes were wild as she reached out for me. She was pleading for my life as I was fighting against the chains of heaven once more to spare her this pain. I reached out for her, trying to close the distance to free her. Our hands touched and I felt something shift within her, a surge of power that brushed against me. I was dragged down and cast into the nothingness of the abyss once more. Lille's voice was a distant wail of despair joined by shrieks of pain of the priests.

Cowards! Did the disciples of heaven derive joy out of torturing children? Inflicting them with heavenly wrath for their ignorance and trust? How could they have failed to notice that she was not possessed? She was just a little girl! Were they jealous of her? Scared? Why had they chosen to do such a thing?

Those little sh*ts that bullied her at that d*mn school were never subjected to an exorcism, so why Lille? What had made them target her like this? There was no way that this was god's will. How dare they! When I got back to Lille, swore that I'd tear them apart. I was merciful for her sake but seeing her like that.... twisted in a way I had forgotten.

My thoughts were tortured. Without an indication of a passage of time and without a body or a way out, I was left to agonize over what had gone wrong. I cursed the people that had done this thing to my girl but what I hated most was myself. I had doomed her when I meant to protect her. In the moment that she needed a full powered demon, she had only gotten me too concerned to unleash my full power by having her call my true name. She was my charge and this incident would harm her for life.

I could not pace, I could not weep. I did not have a body. I did not have eyes. I was formless, nothingness alone with my tormented thoughts. I simply existed. There was no way from this prison except for her death and rebirth and her death was the last thing I wanted. I wished it was hell then at least they'd torture me with my mistakes rather than leave me to torture myself.