Hey guys! Thanks for looking up this story. . Um… openings are always hard to write. Well, tell me how you like it! I'd love any reviews!

Chapter 1

October 1990

Desmond paced nervously around the abandoned park, wringing his hands together.

This was the day. He was tired of being a bitch boy. He knew what he was doing. He wasn't piss poor Demon # 3. This was the day he was really going to earn his place with the Big Men in Hell. He grinned despite his nerves and again congratulated himself on making what had to be his big break. He had found the anti-Christ. If this wasn't going to win him respect, he didn't know what would. What would he have to do? Free Lucifer?

He looked around the deserted landscape. Should he try to summon Azazel again? Growling impatiently, he turned quickly to resume his pacing but stopped short when he spotted the man standing not three feet away from him.

"Azazel" he gasped, hardly believing he had come. Desmond quickly stood straighter and tried to appear cool and confident. "Glad you could make it," he said in what he hoped was an offhanded way.

Azazel seemed unimpressed. "I'm a busy guy. This better be important."

"Oh it is, it is," Desmond quickly assured him. 'Stay cool' he thought desperately to himself. He cleared his throat, "I found something you might like… someone. A girl. She's special."

Azazel rolled his eyes, sure that his time was being wasted but still enjoying watching this little weasel squirm. "What about her?" he asked her. The weasel licked his lips nervously. "She's special. Half and half- human mother, demon father."

This caught Azazel's attention. A half-demon child? Maybe his time wasn't being wasted afterall. Was this the child of the ancient prophesy? Desmond took his silence as encouragement and continued. "I haven't seen any powerful… powers," he stumbled lamely. "But there is potential! Its just untapped. And she's quick to anger, a petulant little brat; must take after Daddy," he laughed nervously.

Azazel was felt his initial excitement ebb away. If this were the child, the anti-Christ, its power would be unquestionable. And, of course, the kid would have been damn near impossible to find. This couldn't be the kid. Desmond's continued rambling was getting on his nerves. He sighed and lazily reached over and snapped his neck in one swift motion. "Idiot," he muttered, and turned to leave when a small figure in the distance caught his eye. It was a girl, but it wasn't her mere presence that caught his attention, it was the pull he felt towards her. This kid had demon blood in her, no doubt- Desmond's 'big' find.

She had on a backpack and held a lunchbox in one hand- obviously taking a short cut through the park on her way home from school. She was staring at him; her eyes were wide with terror. Obviously she had been watching for a while.

Azazel gave her the once over- she couldn't have been more than maybe 8 years old: too young to be walking alone, she must be a pretty independent, rebellious kid. But Azazel could sense she had a kind heart, too kind to be a demon. She obviously took after her mother. Maybe he should make a clean job of it and kill her quickly to. He took a step towards her, and she flinched but stood her ground. "Go away!!" she cried, in a voice that was too loud and forceful for such a little girl. She still looked terrified, but was going to stand her ground. "I'll… I'll bust your ass if you take another step!!" she yelled, obviously trying to intimidate him. It was almost funny. 'Kid's got spunk', he thought, bemused. 'But a little too big for her britches. I'll make it quick'. He tried to get closer to her, but couldn't move. What the Heaven? He looked down at his feet. He could move them, but they wouldn't go forward. The little brat was keeping him away; blocking him with her mind. 'Well, maybe Desmond was on to something.' He looked back up to the girl, committing her face to memory. Brown eyes, black hair, petite little thing, pale skinned. He'd keep an eye on her. He smiled at her (she flinched again) and vanished. 'Really,' he thought as he left, 'the kid does have potential.'

October 2009

Hope sat up quickly with a scream in her throat. Fortunately, she managed to stifle most of it.

Another nightmare. The same nightmare- a19 years old memory that won't quit. She admired its stamina.

Hope groaned a let herself fall back onto her pillow. 'Great' she thought, grumbling with frustration. 'And when we have company to,' she looked over to the wall she shared with her room mate, Angelica. Angie had brought another guy home last night- the muffled laughter, amongst other noises, had been unmistakable. He must be some guy, Hope thought. She had distinctly heard a spirited 'Yee-haw' at least once in the early morning hours. And what was his name? She had heard it more than once (the pillow wrapped around her head hadn't helped much). What was it… Dan, Dane? Dave?

Hope sighed and thunked her head against her headboard. 'I need coffee.'