Hellen

The wind whistled coldly against her crimson colored skin. Guiding her through the darkness of the forest filled with low mist and soft moss. The toddler walked carefully with glee, somewhat balanced, as her toes and tail brushed against the cold texture of rotten bones. She giggled at the moans of the dammed souls that were forever lost to wonder the tortured lands. Moths flew around her and hung from her dark locks, inviting the little girl further into the territory of inevitable terror. But, the toddler was not afraid. Even though there were no signs of her mother, hadn't a clue where she was or understood the fact that she was lost, there wasn’t even a speck of fear in her mind, for she was simply trying to follow a presents. A dark overpowering presents that seemed to call for her. She was happy to follow, oblivious to any danger that laid ahead.

It was not until she stumbled upon a cliff, the edge of the forest, she felt she was exactly were she was suppose to be. Pitch black fog covered anything beyond that point. The grounds where she stood were filled with old cracked stones all lined up in circles others formed into pillars. Aroma of blood surrounded the toddler closely as she stepped within the ritual looking grounds.

A smile curled her coal shaded lips as she felt herself being gently lifted by a force in the air. Invisible to her eyes, she rose her arms to embrace what only felt like caressing hands stroking her cheeks and hair. Warm and loving, this was familiar to her.

"Papa.” She whispered

She rose higher than the tallest pine tree in the forest.

“Papa!” Her voice echoed into the black fog of the beyond.

“My daughter.” the sounds of many voices formed into one, answered her calls.

Emerging from the darkness stepped forth the Guardian of the Gates of Judgment himself. Prince to the Abyss Kingdom in the Underworld. His massive burning red eyes focused onto the little girls. His wings enlarged to disperse the black fog behind himself completely. With strong command, all creatures of the night bowed their heads, unworthy to gaze their eyes upon the very sight of the Dragon summoned to this world. However, the little girl knew him as Papa and only Papa. Excitement consumed her for this was the first time she had ever met.

“Hair and eyes as black as the night itself.” His voice terrifying to many yet fatherly to her.

“Completion as red as the deadliest rose with all the features of a mighty dragon.” His proudness filled the air. “ Your beauty and power shall rule all you command.”

From the ground yelled a female voice, “ Name your Daughter, my Lord!” rushing through the woods as if the moment would have been missed if she did not hurry, was a human-looking woman with pitch-black eyes and pointed ears. “ Name her, my love, we have all worked and waited for this joyous day!” Men and women in red rods appeared slowly after from out of the forest with bowed heads.

“Kalista,” unsurprised of her loyalty to him. “ You have birthed a fine specimen, worthy to rule the Kingdom of the Abyss when the day comes. This brings me happiness beyond compare.”

The little girl’s mother cries out of pure joy, kneeling her gratitude before the Prince.

He continues, his gaze back with the child, “ You are my fire and shining light that will burn all enemies of deserving souls. Carry this name proudly with your head held high, Hellen, will be your name.”

“Uh, Sister Hellen?”

Her name was finally announced to the world. Her father roared a call so mightily, even the dammed souls in hell trembled a new fear.

“Sister Hellen.

All the demon-lings cheered as they poured the blood of their chosen sacrifices down their rods, dancing as the blood of the human, with an intelligence level lower than a cow, of course, splattered on the ritual grounds.

“Sister Hellen!”

A voice sharply interrupted the Storytime that Hellen was wholeheartedly reading to the children of the Monastery.

But, with no sign of frustration or anger, Hellen answered back calmly, “oh, yes, Sister Talia, is there something wrong?”

A hidden disappointed look faced Hellen, “ Might I ask, in Tyr’s name, what on earth are you doing?”

Hellen closed the book, “ I am simply reading a story my mother recently published about my life, Father of the Demon Child.” she happily relied. "A story of a father’s love even from a distance."

Anger rose slightly in Sister Talia’s voice replying an exaggerated, “why?”

" To tell an example to the orphan children of what a physical father's love is like, of course!"