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You and your dad had gone camping to get away from the city. It was something that you’d done every year and had become even more important since the day your mom died. You didn’t even remember her anymore, not really. You recognized her from pictures your dad had all over the house, but you didn’t recall her face or her voice. Then again you were only a baby when a drunk driver claimed her life.
Since that day, it was just you and your dad. Well and your dad’s partner who you called Papa. Papa continued to help your dad and you even when he’d left the police force. It was Papa who’d encouraged you to get into martial arts as a child and a decision that was backed up by your dad.
As nice as it was to have that second authority figure in your life, you liked getting daddy-daughter time during the summer. It was only a weekend to go camping, but it was one of the best times ever. It was special. At least it was until your world was destroyed. You were being taught the basics of gun safety and maintenance since they were in the house and your father wanted you to know what was what. Even if you weren’t allowed to use them yourself. He’d learned at a young age how to shoot and it was something he was going to teach you when you were a few years older.
You and your dad had arrived at your campground and immediately got settled in. The day was just like any other had been over the past few years. Your dad set up the tent while you got the sleeping bags then grabbed some bottled water for each of you. Then it was time to have a good lunch and get the foundations for a good fire to be started when it started getting dark.
Before that happened, your dad started to teach you about gun safety. An hour later it was time to get the fire built and then it was supper time. The two of you sat by the fire telling stories. Silly ones to start then scary ones. Neither of you really noticed when the surrounding area had fallen silent, only that it had. Birds stopped singing, even the breeze stopped blowing.
A chill filled the air and served as the only warning before the attack happened. A flash of darkness and a demonic hiss broke the eerie silence. You watched it happen within a flash. The large shadowy creature lunged at you, though you only saw your father getting torn apart. It was something you didn’t realize at the time, but it would play a part later in your life.
Your father gasped out a final, “Y/n, I love you” before he collapsed in a pool of his own blood. You did the only thing you could, you screamed. It wasn’t that you thought it would do something. Or maybe you did.
Your mind entered fight or flight mode and your reaction was flight. Only you found yourself frozen in terror. You wanted to run didn’t you? Part of your young mind just wanted to have it end so you could be with your family. You were alone. No one anymore. No one would even come looking until Monday when your dad didn’t show for work and you didn’t go to the daycare. You were only five years old. How did you survive when something so evil had slaughtered your only source of protection?
In a brief flourish of courage, you grabbed the gun that was still on your dad’s hip in its holster. You quickly fumbled with getting it out. Somehow you were able to get it out of safety mode. Or was the safety always off? You didn’t care. Not at that moment. What you cared about was that you were able to hold up the firearm and fired a shot into the creature. The knock-back from the gun sent you flying off your feet.
Sadly it did nothing. The bullet seemed to just bounce off the creature’s tough hide. Well it didn’t damage the thing. It did however draw its attention back to you. And with the recoil, you’d dropped your dad’s gun. Now you had nothing to keep you safe. You closed your eyes and were ready to just let the thing, the demon, attack you.
There was the sound of a gunshot followed by a blade slicing through flesh and bone. You opened your eyes to see what was going on. Were you dead? No. You still breathed and your dad would be there if you were dead. What was going on? You were about to scream when you saw a familiar face. It was covered in blood and what looked like ash or something similar. “Papa!” you exclaimed before the stress of the situation claimed you and you fell into the blackness of unconsciousness.
How long you were out, you didn’t know. You woke in a hospital bed. Your young mind struggled to come to terms with what was going on. You told everyone a demon had killed your dad. You were told it was a wild animal attack, probably a bear. You stopped fighting it. No one believed you.
No one except Papa. He had slain it, he told you later after the funeral. When you went to live with him he told you the truth. It was a demon that had entered this world probably through an open door that wasn’t closed or hadn’t been closed properly. “Usually demons are merely dark spirits that enter your world, this world. Sometimes they slip through and are able to manifest fully. That was what killed your father. I was hunting it and I am so sorry I wasn’t able to save him.”
“You hunt demons?” You cocked your head to the side and looked at him. “Can I learn how to do it?”
Papa shook his head. “No little one. I won’t teach you to do what I do. You lack the capabilities I do. I will teach you how to protect yourself should something like that happen again.” And he kept to his word. Papa insisted you continued with your martial arts once a week and he took over what your father had started; gun safety and maintenance.
Slowly over the next few years Papa worked with you to get you up to speed on how to protect yourself. Then, on your 13th birthday it was time to switch from physical to magical. Papa started to teach you the basics of magical protection. Casting circles, recognizing symbols that would summon things and what would be summoned. What he hadn’t been expecting was how quickly you’d caught on to it.
That’s when he realized what you were and why that demon had attacked. It wasn’t random and it hadn’t been going after your father, it was going after you. You were the target because you were a witch. Something that he had seen a little bit of here and there, but it was kept fairly hush-hush.
Even though the religion of Wicca and some other similar types of beliefs were becoming more accepted, this was something that was beyond that understanding. It was something that Papa had brought with him when he came here to this world. And so this needed to be kept quiet not just for your sake but for the sake of causing mass panic.
And so you were taught what Papa knew with regards to witchcraft. How to use it to be able to see things that weren’t visible to most. How your senses would be able to alert you to dangers that may be stronger than others would think. The downside to that came when you looked at Papa one day after working on your craft. “When were you going to tell me you’re not exactly human?”
It was something you’d sort of noticed off and on while growing up. Papa looked normal enough, black hair that was tied back. Jade colored eyes that seemed to know more than he let on and a sad smile. You didn’t see through the glamour that had been cast, but you could sense that it wasn’t quite right. While growing up it had been something you just assumed was because of the tragedy that had brought you to live with him.
Papa grinned like a proud father at that moment. He knew then that you were getting stronger. “One day, I will tell you everything. For now, focus on your studies and training. And most importantly, don’t forget to have some fun. There may or may not be a new game system waiting for you in the living room.”
You bolted into the living room and saw a copy of Devil May Cry. A game by the same company that made the Resident Evil games. You figured you’d give it a shot and ended up loving it. A world where demons were commonplace and witches weren’t seen as something wholly evil or the cause of the all the world’s problems. It also started your secret obsession of the series as a whole.