1987

The bright sunlight assaulted my senses, temporary blinding me as I stepped out of the front door and down the porch, heading to my car. "Selene! No! This is crazy!" I heard Alex yell at me, before I heard the sound of his feet following me down the gravel driveway. I refused to meet his eyes, instead focusing on the movement of the child in my arms and the one holding onto my hand. Rosalie turned back around toward her father, "Daddy…." I heard her whimper, and another piece of my heart died.

"Rosie, look ahead." I said to her, gently tugging her arm along. Blue eyes met brown as she looked at me, black hair falling into her eyes and partially covering them from me before she nodded and faced the car. All of our possessions were already loaded in the back of the car; now all I needed were my two girls. I gestured to Rosalie to get in her car seat, and she did as I asked, eyes glistening with unshed tears. I shut the door, and felt Alex's arm on my elbow.

"Please, Selene, don't do this. Don't take them away from me. Don't leave me. It's not safe, for any of you." I turned to face him, mustering the worst look I possibly could.

"No, Alex. It's completely safe. You know where it's not safe? Here, with you. There's no telling what the hell is running around in that house. What could come after you, come after us! You were so, so wrong to hold this in, Alex. You should have told me years ago! Before Rosalie, before Rian and Cassaddee died and we were taking care of Zoey. Before everything!" My voice cracked, and I looked away from him, focusing on Zoey. I had cried enough in the past 24 hours, I couldn't cry now, not in front of him.

"Selene, please." I looked into my husband's eyes and I saw tears, something I hadn't seen since Rosalie was born. No, no no. I said to myself, Come on Selene, stay strong.

"Alex, it's over." I said, my voice soft. A tear slid down his cheek, and I lost it. I whipped around and put Zoey in her car seat, ignoring my husband, no soon to be ex-husband I reminded myself.

As I reached down to buckle Rosalie in her car seat, I felt a pair of eyes burning into me. Upon further investigation, Rosalie was staring her father and I down, eyes shining brightly with unshed tears. Her normally happy and smiling face was set into a hard line, her father's stubbornness coming through.

"Mama," She said, and Alex and I turned to look at her as she asked the one question I prayed wouldn't come out of her mouth. "Why are we leaving?"

My throat closed up as I struggled for an answer. I obviously couldn't tell her the truth; she was just 4 years old. Things like, Oh, your dad hunts demons and supernatural beings for a living and I think it's really dangerous for us to be around him, wouldn't cut it. Thankfully, Alex answered for me.

"Well, baby, you and mama and Zoey are going to go stay with grandpa and grandma for a few weeks. Ok?" A lie. We wouldn't be at my parent's house for a few weeks. More like months. But, never the less, I let it go.

"But Daddy! Who's going to play tag with me and read to me when I go to sleep and check the closet for monsters?" She wailed, and whatever was left of my heart broke into a thousand pieces. I had reassured myself that this was the right decision, a decision that would help our girls in the long run. Now with Rosalie sobbing in the back seat, I wasn't so sure.

"Shh, shh."He said, bending down to Rosalie's level. She reached for him best she could in the constraints of the car seat, reaching around to wrap her arms around her father's neck. He kept muttering words of reassurance into her hair, telling her it would be alright and that he'd see her soon.

And then he did something I'd never expected him to do.

Alex was extremely superstitious, or that's what we'd assumed, before he told me. He never took his jewelry off. Even on the day of our wedding, he had worn his chains and medallions under his tux, as well as his old ring. So it came as a great shock to me when he lifted up one of his necklaces and draped it over Rosalie's neck. It was so long on her small frame that it reached down to her belly button, but she wore it none the less. He pressed a kiss on her forehead, muttered something that I couldn't make out and told her he loved her.

And then he repeated the same process with Zoey.

"So this is it." He said to me after he finished with Zoey.

"Yeah." I said, fighting back tears and failing. I let him crush me against his chest, and felt him wet my hair with his own tears. I pulled away after a minute, feeling uncomfortable. After a moment of awkward silence, I walked around the hood of the car and opened the door to get into the driver's seat.

"Selene," Alex's said, voice thick with emotion, "I love you."

All I could reply was, "I know."

...

I plopped myself down on the couch, a bottle of jack in one hand and my journal in the other. Hunting was my life, and I knew that I'd have to give that up when I got married and raised a family. It was hard, but I eventually managed to make the transition from hunter to husband. Kitchen spoons and spatulas replaced the knives and guns of my arsenal. Demons and evil spirits got replaced by laundry and household maintenance.

But, 3 weeks ago, something happened.

I had put Rosie to bed, and read her part of Aesop's fables. About 30 minutes afterward, I heard her scream.

Selene raced up the stairs to calm Zoey, who had awakened and was crying. I walked into Rosie's room, and saw her at the head of her bed, curled into a ball and staring into her closet.

"What's wrong baby?" I had asked her, sitting next to her on the bed. My normally independent and courageous Rosie huddled into my side under my arm, like a baby bird looking for shelter.

She pointed to her closet.

Just then Selene came in after effectively shushing Zoey, "What's wrong?"

Before I could respond, Rosie piped up, "There's something in my closet."

"Well," Selene said, "let your daddy look in the closet, and see what's happening. I'm going to bed." She kissed Rosie's forehead and left the room.

"Rosie, baby," I said, looking at her, "There's nothing in your closet."

"Yes daddy, there is!" She said, her voice filled with conviction. Even if there wasn't something in her closet, she was damn well going to try to convince me there was. "It had eyes."

"Eyes?" I asked, curious. My long dormant hunter side kicked in, as she described the eyes to me.

"Blue eyes, like the kind of eyes that people have. But it didn't sound like a person. It's voice was all low and scratchy."

Interesting.

I spent the next 5 days going through the same cycle with Rosie. I eventually blessed the room while she was at school and Selene was at work.

But something was bothering me. Why would this demon hang around in my baby's closet for 5 days? Why would they be in our house? The thought of something hurting Selene, Rosie or Zoey had me shaking. So I had done some research.

And that's when Selene had found me.

She had come home from work early one day, and caught me with my journals strung around the table, muttering to myself in Latin. Selene had instantly jumped to conclusions, thinking I was some Pagan devil worshiper. A large fight had ensued, fueled by Selene's strong Christian beliefs and fear of something that was different and my pigheadedness because I knew, I knew I was right. I had to explain what I was, what was happening. What I found had me scared to death.

A demon was trying to possess my child.

Selene didn't' believe me, until I showed her evidence; pictures, journal entries, and stories. I told her about my old life; the life I had willingly given up to stay with her and raise a family. About the hundreds of people I had saved from dying or killing others. How many deaths I had prevented by sending these things back to hell.

But that obviously didn't matter to Selene, and the next day she was gone.

I picked up the bottle and took a swig, the liquor burning my throat pleasantly. The journal lay on the table, opened up to the page on child possessions. The amulet I had placed around Rosie's neck would do something to keep the demon at bay until I found a long term solution.

The phone ringing shook me from my thoughts, and I cursed before getting up to answer it.

"Mr. Dawson?" the person on the other end of the line asked.

"This is he." I replied eyebrows quirking up in confusion.

"This is Officer Macey from the Idabel police department. I hate to inform you there was an accident involving your wife and two daughters. The little girls are fine, but, Mr. Dawson, Mrs. Dawson didn't make it."

The phone fell to the floor as I grabbed my keys and rushed to the hospital.

My Selene. Gone.