Isaiah 41:10

"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."

I read those words in the Bible once.

Growing up, I was never a very religious boy. I had always believed in the presence of higher powers that exist above us, but never thought about it religiously.

"There was a god I could pray to." I believed.

That belief helped me get through some tough times, I like to believe.

These thoughts cloud my tired brain as I walk to the bus stop stopping along the way to wait for my best friend, Melody.

My name is Akimora. I'm an Asian-American boy of 15 years of age. I get along with anyone if I try, and I'm only known for my "weird name" by most.

Sometimes the occasional weeb will ask what Japan is like, but I never remembered it. I left too young, but I was curious myself, once.

Frankly, I dodged a bullet, but got punched in the process. Japan is too formal, but America is too fucked up for me.

But my friend here, Melody, she's gotten me through. I've known her since before she turned 10, and she's been nothing but the best to me.

We talk together on the way to the bus, although I'm notably tired.

Once the bus finally arrives- late as usual- I doze off in the uncomfortable but passable seating, and found myself dreaming.

I see an empty, blood red desert. The ground is dehydrated, cracked, and red in color. The sky is pitch blank, and a purple moon barely illuminated the area.

A faceless woman stepped out of nowhere. "What is your purpose?" She asked. I agree. "You're correct."

She crossed her arms. "Who is our savior." She retorts. "You're wrong." I snarl.

I feel pain. I feel so much pain.

My eyes open instantly, yet see nothing. I'm floating weightlessly, my hands are touching something encasing me and..

I can't breathe!

I beat the encasing thoughtlessly, and it cracked. That crack spread, and soon I'm free from my prison.

As I tumble from my former prison, I feel an intense hunger. Out of an uncomfortable desire, my head turns to face what had trapped me moments prior. A jet black egg, oozing a veiny, red slime.

I black out.

When I wake up, the egg is gone, and I'm full. I don't question what just happened. I'm not stupid.

My mind is slowly catching up with what's happening, but right as it is, I'm flooded with instincts. Memories.

I'm a goat. I'm weak. My body is small and human, and it will remain small and human.

I'm a demon, consumers of evil, punishers of the sinful. I seek blood, and growth.

My ancestor is the queen herself, Baphomet. I must worship her.

I'm a weak demon. Melody.. where did she go? Where is everyone?

I'm not gonna see her anymore, am I..?

I'm never.. my life is over.. I'm never going home.