Part 1: What Am I?

This story begins in the small town of Blackwood where the first cambion lived. His name was Darcyl and he looked every bit like the average human. He had mortal friends and even went to school like a normal human kid. His aunt May believed if he was raised around humans and learned to adapt like them that nothing about his father would ever surface within him, but she was so wrong.

At the age of thirteen the first symptoms started. Darcyl complained about terrible migraines that just wouldn't go around no matter the amount of pharmacy medication May would give him. Sometimes they would last for days and he wouldn't be able to sleep, then it was the time when May caught him producing fire with his hands.

May feared the exposure of what he truly was to the public. So, she did what she would be best, she removed him from public school and moved them both into a small cottage somewhere deep in the middle of the forest. The cottage had a normal-sized kitchen, a mini closet, a living area, and two small bedrooms. It was the perfect size for the both of them.

When Darcyl turned fifteen, May noticed small tiny horns that grew from both sides of his head. She'd assume they were the cause of his headaches.

Darcyl came into the living room with a book about the paranormal in hand. "Aunt May, what am I?" His aunt looked up from her needle and thread and wrinkled her forehead up. "Aunt May, I know you know something. I seen all the scared looks you gave me over the years. The other kids at school never had this problem. What aren't you telling me?"

She swallowed and eyed the book he held. "What are you reading there?"

"Please don't change the subject. Tell me what am I? Why aren't I normal like the other kids in town? Why do I have horns in my head? Why can my hands produce fire?" He sat down on the couch in front of her and starred at her waiting her reply.

It was then he heard the beeps. The beeps of her heart as it quickened. His eyes jumped from her face to her chest and back up at her face. She was afraid. "Aunt May, what aren't you tell me?"

She put down the thread on the mini table beside her and laid back in the chair. "Listen, Thomas. Your biological mother died giving birth to you. We were very close and told each other nearly everything, but she never spoke much about your father. Every time I would ask, she would change the subject. Eventually, I just stopped asking altogether. I never even seen the guy. I thought perhaps she just wanted to keep her dating life secret. Then came the day when she told me she was pregnant. She was happy for awhile. And, when it was the month you were expected to be conceived, she told me she might not make it. I didn't know what she meant and I told her it was nonsense what she spoke, because death from birth isn't very common unless complications but she was the healthiest person I knew. She wouldn't touch any red meats, she ate tons of vegetables and fruits, and she never snacked on junk food. Not from what I seen anyways." May sighed and looked the opposite way. "I was there. Your mother called me and told me she was going in labor, she'd had multiple contractions in the last hour. I rushed as fast as I could in my old honda, passed all that traffic. She was sweating so bad, I grabbed her a towel when I first saw her, and wiped her face off. I remember she grabbed my hand and told me I'd have to protect her child, its father wouldn't be present, she said." May turned back to look at Darcyl with watery eyes. "She was gone before I had the chance to reply and the doctor managed to safety deliver the baby. So, to answer your question, Thomas, I don't know what you are. I do know that your dad is possibly the same but I never met him to be able to ask. I'm truly sorry."

"I have a picture of mom. I will never have one of father. He abandoned me. He abandoned mom. If I ever see him, I will make him pay. I swear to it!" May saw the anger that took him over. His horns were fully out and his hands on fire. Darcyl looked down at his hands and quickly the fire went out. "This is his fault. My father made me into whatever I am and then he abandoned the woman who gave birth to me. I hate him!" Darcyl got up and ran to his bedroom and fell onto the bed, crying softly into the pillow.

He couldn't go back to the outside world because he was different. The friends he had a child would be scared of him. They would call him a monster. That is what he thought of himself at times. A monster with horns that produced fire like the creatures in his fiction novel. His novel was full of dragons, ghosts, angels, and demons.

What if he was one of them? Is it possible the things he reads in his books are realistic in any way?

One thing he knew for sure, he would find the man who did this to him, then he would kill him just like he killed his mother.