In my sleep I dreamed about a place with dangerous magic. Most of those who had it were evil.They ate humans, sacrificed animals, created misfortunes for others, and produced pain for any human who happend to be around.
I had magic, my speciality was teleportation. I hung around these people sometimes. I would do things like quietly sneak away cats from their houses so that they wouldn’t be part of any sacrifices.
I was on the human side even if it was hard for either of us to trust the other. They had raised me and were my friends.
I lived in a giant mansion that was only half built and where something terrifying slept in the attic. There was a seal on the door that I did not touch, but some of my human guardians got too curious and broke the seal. Something was unleashed.
I remember a great fear that made me run away from the house. At night in every building, though, every stairwell led up to that attic. No matter how far away from that house I was, if I was walking up stairs it would slowly begin to twist up to that attic.
Something heavy, but formless was coming down those stairs. It was always coming for me.
It was the devil. He was my father. He did not love me and I knew that meeting him would only mean he would capture me and torture me.
My human guardians who survived the opening of the seal tried to help me, but they didn’t know what to do. There was nothing. One day he would get me.
At the end of my dream I remember hysterically thinking about the purpose of being good, about life, about destinies. I was the child of the devil. No matter what I did I was going to end up in hell.
Then I woke up.