The Devil's Love: The Prologue
A new story that I'm working On. I'm planing to interlink this story with Royal Wolf. Enjoy!
COPYRIGHT FOR THE CHARACTER DARREN BELONGS TO DRAGONESSDEANNA!
A creature of damnation they call me. A son of the devil others would say. And for a while I believed I was a devil, a creature of hell, something that was brought to this world to cause destruction, pain and death. I was told repeatedly by my hatful father, that he wished that I had neven born, that he hated me and prayed and asked God were he went wrong--why he deserved to have a beast as a son. But yet . . . my Mother told me the opposite. She _loved me--_which baffled my father. He did not understand how she could love something like me--as I was; she would thank God for being blessed with such a beautiful son.
I was born on April 5th, 1704 in England. My Mother just went through a hard labor. But when I was released from my Mother's womb, the Doctor, Dr. Crystle, gave a horrified gasp. His grey eyes darted toward my Mother and then back at me. He was completely token back with mystery of me. He hurried me to the table next to him, to examine me more closely--or so my Mother told me.
"What? Is there something wrong with my baby . . . ?"She asked in a faint whisper. The birth had weakened her quite a bit.
"Um . . . M-m-madam, I do not believe you want to see it." He said. He looked down at the strange creature he was holding with a saddened face. Un_like other people, he had a great respect for life. Even now, he seeing this wicked baby, a baby he did not believe was something of the devil. He knows what _other people would think of me, he felt pity for me.
"Pl-please, Doctor. Please let me see my baby?" She asked; her arms outstretch toward me. She did not know why the Doctor was being so nerves about giving her her child.
The Doctor looked at me, then her, then back at me. He gently picked me up and whispered, "I truly do hope you make it young one." He placed me into her hands and stepped back. "A son you have."
"Oh," She said, surprised when she actually say me, and in that instant he automatically felt love for me. "What are you little guy?" She asked. She held me up to get a better look at me and then rested she me against her chest. She started stroking the fur on my back side. Then she took a look at bat-like wings and my slender tail.
The Doctor, as nerves as he was, asked, "What shall you call him, madam?"
"Darren. I'll call him Darren." She cradled me to her warm body as she felt the warmth of me.
"Madam, I believe we should talk about this. Now, we have been friends for a long time, and I do wish to see you're . . . uh, baby to live. But think of what other people think of him? They will see him is a devil. And if they do see him, he will be killed."
"Yes, Arest, I have thought of what they would think."
"Then, my friend, I fear he will have to be hidden," He sighed. He looked down at me cradled in my Mother's arms and a small smile tweaked onto his lips.
They turned head as footsteps could be seen and hear, announcing my father's approach. My father walked in with a proud poster. His wife had finally delivered their child, but when he saw me, he wrenched me from my Mother's arms and thrust me into the Doctors arms. "What have you done, woman?" He asked. "You have conceived with the devil, have you not? You did not bear me a son. No. A devil you have given me. A son of Satin you have bore me!"
He stomped over to the Doctor and plucked me from his arms by my scruff. A raspy whimper cracked out of my muzzle.
My Mother shakily got out of bed and sluggishly limpped toward my father. "Please! Let my son alone!" My Mother tried to grab me out of my father's hands, but he jerked my back hard enough to evoke pained yelp form me. She fell to the ground roughly.
He looked down at her and said, "You want IT? Here, you can have it." He dropped me into her arms and stormed out the room.
"Oh, Darren, I am so sorry," She cried.
The Doctor got her up and set us back on her bed. "Now, Mary. Please rest; conserve your energy for your son. Now, I would like to check on him periodically to make sure he is healthy and be his person Doctor. I will see you in two days. An' God blessed be he survives."
The days and years passed by as time progressed, the Doc occasionally popped in to check on me every few week, as promised. When I was strong and old enough, my hateful father made me move down in the cellar--saying a creature like me belonged down there in the darkness--but not before my Mother made him make me a bed room.
Until that day, I have lived down there since.