Hi,

Parasite Child here. My life has never been the same, since I've been shot and left for dead, so many centuries and millennium ago, by one of my dad's miserable skanky-skeezer hoes. All this 'cause he refused to leave me and my mom (dad's legal, by the way wife, folks); but then, he should've never told the bitch that to get into first her heart's strings then into the Promised Land-her panties...

How was I to know that my dad was a cheating, no-good piece of work; he's been cheating on my mom for several years, with different females. It's a miracle Mom never caught any STDs, let alone herpes or worse, HIV-AIDS, from him going into all those willing women raw. Gross. The only thing stopping those Professional Virgins (at least of them have been around the block for so long, and with so many guys the neighbors referred them as "Professional Virgins") from trying to attack my mom outright was of the rumors that she was a Devil Worshipper. The last thing they wanted was demons being

Correction: my mom wasn't a Satanist, but worshipped the Realm Master, and preferred being referred to as a Realmnite. It was my father, who was into That Dude. He never missed their religious meetings, ceremonies, or anything else dealing with the Dark Arts. Never. Those women, the cowards that they were, instead sicced their kids on me; they felt by bullying me my dad wouldn't have any other choice, but go and marry their mother(s). My stomach felt as if hot lava was poured inside, I felt both agonising pain and the beginning of red-hot,

Even that plan, or scheme didn't work-i may be a little scrawny kid, but-unfortunately for those bullying bastards and bitches-I was a nasty, mean little skinny, scrawny kid. Whatever demons my dad did sent as my bodyguards were entertained by the nasty shit I did to protect myself, even though I didn't know they were with me at the time. I had fist-fights once in a while, I guess, every now and then, but when I fought I fought dirty, no holds barred. As if my very life depended on it. I punched, kicked, bit, scratched, clawed (I had naturally-birth hooked fingernails, some people called them cat-claws), and grabbed whatever caught my eye to use as a weapon. I also grabbed hair by the scalp, and cheerfully tore it out, gorged eyes, ripped up noses and lips, I didn't care. I sword if I had to go to the hospital I wasn't gonna go alone. Period. After those fights I was pretty much left alone.

But I also unknowingly got myself a fan club with my dad's demons (I later called them Hellites, since they did came from Hell, or the Hell Territories), who gotten kicks from all the carnage I caused from defending myself. I even gotten a nice Thank You letter from that Pazuzu Demon-God, a reddish-green colored card, the ink produced from Human Mortal blood. He sent the card to thank me for the gory entertainment I gave his Demon-warriors (Dad said that was a real honor receiving such a letter; Pazuzu very rarely gets himself involved in Human Mortal affairs. He used to, back in the day thousands of years ago, when pregnant or nursing female worshippers called for his help and protection). Mom was not amused. She cursed my dad out for having an Old, Ancient Dark God checking me out, as potential future harem material, and let Dad know that what happened to that Megan (the girl played by Linda Blair in that Exorcist movie) isn't going to happen to me. Dad got mad, defending the God of locusts, famine, war and pestilence, saying that movie lied, giving false information; Pazuzu was never into young girls, he at least wait until the young ladies reach 15 years of age before courting and marrying them!

"And rape them later, with large crosses and crucifixes," Mom sneered.

"No", Dad protested, "Demon-God Lord is too virile for that. He's all man!"

And so on...

Well, anyway, one day, I was on my way back home from a friend's house, it was a little late, about 5:52 p.m. and starting to get dark. When i came across one of my dad's hoes, Miss Kenya, who beckoned me closer to the alleyway, telling me she has a job for me for the upcoming weekend, she'd pay me some nice money.

(NOTE: I know, I know, I should have known better to allow myself, even at my age to get approached by a woman not my mom. Dumb me. But I knew-thought I knew the w.k..

. , she has always been nice to my mom and me-Miss Kenya, thought she would never do or say anything harmful to me. And worse no red flag was raised that would've told me something was wrong.)

Miss Kenya was one of those tall, slender really pretty women, with curly long brownish-black hair, beautiful hazel-blue colored eyes, a perky cute nose and lips men go out of their way to want to kiss. And a body that made any man sees drool with both lust and admiration. She also always dressed in the latest fashions, and her hair and face perfect. She didn't look trampy at all. Dressed like a lady...

She beckoned, "come on, honey, we can go through this alleyway, as a shortcut, to the next block to my place. I'll give you all the details for Saturday!"

"I dunno", I said, that alleyway WAS kinda dark, I didn't find anything good going through there, it looked creepy. Should've listened. To myself. Dumb me.

"Don't worry, kid, I'll protect you. I won't let anything bad happen to you. I won't let anyone hurt you". Her eyes looks so soft, so kind, so reassuring. I believed her.

Schmuck.

Excitedly grabbing my hand, Miss Kenya says, smiling, "great!" The both of us then enter the long, dark alleyway, the corridors smelling of garbage, human urine-and-excretment, and other assorted foul odors. "Soon, very soon, you'll get it!"

I was so happy and proud, I was thinking I was about to earn my own money, so I can wouldn't have to ask my parents for anything. I like working. The deeper we went into the alleyway, the worse the smells became. But farther we both went.

It was several minutes later. By that time we was deep inside the alleyway's core, and Miss Kenya told me, "I have another surprise for you baby. Just close your eyes tight..." I then wondered, "why her voice suddenly sound so sad?l"

I soon found out.

That was when I felt four white-hot blasts go into my stomach, back-to-back, the agonising pains causing me to crash into both my knees, both arms instinctively wrap themselves around my stomach. I open my eyes, pleading, "why? Why? I trusted you. Trusted you!"

Tears of guilt freely streaking down her face, she whispered, crying, "I'm sorry, baby, I'm sooo sorry. I wish I didn't hadda do this to you. Not you. But your mother won't divorce your father for me! I had to do this. Now, he has no other choice but to divorce your mother, AND MARRY ME!"

Then the bitch, who i-me and my mom-liked AND TRUSTED, and she just blasted four bullet holes AT CLOSE RANGE-into me, to KILL me...

...left me.

To die. In a shitty-smelling alleyway, at night, bleeding my life away, alone.

All this, because my dad wouldn't leave my mom and me, to marry her.

Wow.

I tightened myself into a fetus-like ball, trying desperately-and miserably failing-to stop the flow of blood running, if not cascading out my 13-year old pre-puberty body. Every now and then I had to spit clots and half-cups of blood out of my mouth, so that I won't choke on it, the pain nearly unbearable. I prayed and prayed and prayed for my mom to sense me out, find and save me, so that I could tell her everything. Time felt like it was running at a standstill. I was lying in a pool of my own blood. Awful. The only thing I now thought of (thank goodness I had the ability to communicate with insects and rodents) using my four, six, eight-legged friends to help me. I was now getting cold from blood loss. I summoned every thing I had for help...

Moments later rats arrived from every crack, hole crevice and where ever else they hid. Untold dozens upon dozens of them; thank goodness for New York's so-called infamous Super-Rats. They saved my life, as far as the cold were concerned. Huge as fully-grown cats, the large rats used their own bodies, covering me and keeping me warm while I took a few of them under me, patting their heads happily keeping them warm in return. While the rats were busy, Hellite spiders the size of German shepherds appeared out of nowhere, spinning their thick four-inch silk over me and the rats, the webs kept us all cozy-warm. One of the spiders bit me, the venom entering into my bloodstream melting the bullets, while numbing the pain in my stomach. I only had enough strength left to thank all the creatures for helping me, before losing consciousness.

My mom and dad soon found me, the supernatural grapevine alerted them, and I was driven by private ambulance to one of those super-secret Realmnite-owned hospitals. There I was given the best medical care, and assigned to a private room. Unfortunately because I've been in that filthy alleyway in a long period of time my insides was severely infected, and my kidneys and liver totally screwed.

I was dying.

To save my life, whatever small portion of a soul I was born with, had to be sacrificed. I was to go into what I later found out a Healing Realmnite Sleep, meaning I would have to enter into a undetermined medical-induced coma. Not only that I would have to become a Realmnite Parasite, to feast on souls, to live, to make up for losing my soul.

Shit. A Parasite. A Realmnite Parasite. That's worse than becoming a vampire or werewolf. At least THEY GET TO EAT FOODS AND SOLIDS.

My mom went into crying hysterical fits, when she was told of my dilemma, and blamed my equally grieving father for what was about to befall me.

A Realmnite Healing Sleep?! That's a thousand times WORSE than what happened to that Rip Van Winkle guy. At least he only slept for 25 years.

I have to sleep for at least 6,000-Plus Years. Maybe more.

All the world I knew of will be gone. Dead.

All my family, friends, every thing no longer exist.

Shit. Triple Damn.

As Realmnite-Hellite mystics prepared me for the Mother of all Big Sleeps, I mentally vowed I'm gonna get that hoe who destroyed my life. My family. I'm gonna not survive this, but when I get well-and, I WILL-I'm gonna travel back in time here, and make that slut pay. And pay. And pay...