It all started when I was 6, the day my mom died. What I witnessed was something no 6 year old should see. My 5 year old brother, Damien, had woken me up in the middle of the night because he had a nightmare, so I had gotten up to go get his favorite blanket from our parents room. I pushed the door open to reveal my dad standing over my mom with a bloody knife in his hand. I at first thought it was a dream, until I heard Damien's whimper from behind me. I spun around quickly and pulled him out of the room, going to ours, closing the door, locking it. I sat on my bed with Damien and comforted him, both of us not understanding what just happened. I didn't know what to think of the situation until I was 11, when Damien was taken. I had woken up to find his bed empty and I panicked, looking everywhere for him, until I ran into my dad. I asked where he was and what I heard shocked me. My dad traded Damien to a demon for money. I was seriously pissed for an 11 year old. When my dad left to do something, I grabbed what little I had and called one of my relatives, telling them my dad was letting me stay with them. As years passed, I became a hunter, searching for the demon that took my brother, the only good that was left in my family...