Part 1

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July 11th, 1921
               ***
The girl cowered in fear as her mother brought a hand up over her head and swung it upon her face while her father grabbed a hot poker from the fire place. "No... please, I didn't do anything, don't do this again. No!" The girl sobbed. "I fear this is the only way to cure you. You've been told this, you were a spawn of Satan and this is how you shall pay for your existence." Her father replied, soon prodding at her forehead with the poker and causing more sobs. Her mother slapped her again. "You will learn to obey our orders."

The girl had no clue what she'd done. It had always been this way, ever since she was born, which, if she could guess right, was about 5 years ago. She had no idea because it's not like they ever told her when she was born. She didn't even have a name, Her parents had sworn from the day she was born that she was a spawn of the devil himself, punishing them for their misdeeds, and they brought their anger and other negative feelings on her.

Her father was just about to poke her with the white hot metal stick again when he paused, a man had opened the door to the upstairs parlor room and was now standing in the doorway with a smile on his face. "I told you that you would regret your actions." The man said. He had a knife in his hand that, with a jolt of horror, the girl realized came from the kitchen downstairs that her parents had used to make cuts on her arm. Her father dropped the poker and it hit the ground with an angry hiss and a clang. The man walked slowly towards the girl's parents with the knife gleaming off the reflection of the fire. The man didn't seem to notice the girl so she hid under the desk that she had her back to.

With a sudden move of grace and precision, the man made his way, knife in hand, towards her mother. The fire showed his face for the first time and the girl, who had expected some form of deranged brute, was surprised to see this young man, age unclear to her, was actually handsome and well dressed. He had round glasses, short brown hair, and dark skin. He seemed out of place and it shocked the girl to see how normal murder seemed to him.

He brought the knife across the woman's neck and she dropped dead before she had hit the ground with a sickening thud. The young girl, still hiding under the desk, watched, almost amazed as the man progressed towards her father. He backed into a bookshelf and grabbed a book from behind him. "Alastor, you are a sinner and deserved the rope that we called for you!" The other man, whom the girl realized was named Alastor, chuckled. He looked down at the book. "Oh dear me a Bible, would you like for me to cower in fear of your God's power?"

She could see now that her father was trembling, obviously this man scared the living daylights out of him. Without another word, The man with the knife drew the weapon across his face, and then stabbed her father in the chest and twisted. Another thud and her father was also dead.

The girl watched as the man began to exit, and she slowly crawled out, trying to decide between confronting the stranger, or waiting until he left to call the police. The girl finally made a decision. She crawled out from under the desk, and stood up, and, although she was sure this man would kill her, cleared her throat.

Alastor turned around in curiosity, and looked at the girl. She was young, probably about 5, had choppy short brown hair, as if it had been cut in a hurry or as if she ripped it out herself, she had startlingly light green eyes, like mint, and she had the most peculiar expression, she didn't seem scared, more curious about him. He had no clue the Elrod's had a child. He'd never seen them with one anyways.

"Hello little fawn." The man said gently. "Where did you come from?"
The small child looked behind her, nodding towards the desk. "Were you hiding?"
She nodded.
"What is your name?"
After a few seconds of silence, the girl spoke, "I don't have one." She replied timidly. "Why on earth would you not have a name?" The man asked.
"My parents believed I was a child from hell, they didn't think me worthy of a name."
The man looked down in thought. The knife still clenched in his gloved hands.
"Are you going to kill me?"
He looked up. "No my dear child. I don't think I will. Why have I never seen you before?"
The girl looked down. "My parents and the priest are the only ones who know of my existence."
"The blood on your face, is it yours?"
Another nod. "Did your parents give those injuries to you?"
This time, more hesitation, but eventually a nod.

"My name is Alastor. Would you like to come with me?" The girl looked up suddenly. This strange man had broken into her home, killed her parents, and now wanted her to come with him. "I don't want to hurt you, I can give you a home. Though I would suggest you make a decision before the police arrive."

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