A CRESCENT MOON

Chapter 1

I am Micah Ashworth. I was born to my mother Charmeine and my father Mason on the sixth of December 1826. My mother was an angel, one of God's helpers. I was very young at the time, but I remember she spoke so highly of this God. He was supposed to be the best there is. I cannot help but wonder where He was when my father had kidnapped my mother and abused her. Surely, He would have helped my mother if she was in need? Right? She told me that she was a guardian angel for someone and that one night while she was watching over them, she got taken by a demon, my father. The demon was no less than Mason Ashworth, the great demon king and ruler of Tartarus. He kept my mom as a prisoner and abused and tortured her. Not only that he also raped her repeatedly. Eventually my mother got pregnant. She could no longer bear the abuse my father put her through knowing that a baby was growing inside her. She tried to escape and almost succeeded in doing so. Nevertheless, the demon king was not easily fooled, and he stopped her. He found out about the child and locked my mother up in the dungeons. My father wanted an heir to his throne, so he ceased the opportunity he saw. Fortunately for my mother the abuse lessened. My father wouldn't risk losing the child and thereby his only heir to the throne. In the time she was pregnant, my mother tried to escape multiple times but to no avail. Even though the abuse had lessened my mother still felt miserable. The only thought that helped her push on was me inside of her belly. Then I was finally born, and my father picked up his abuse again. For years I watched how he beat my mother till she was an inch from death. He never lay a finger on me, because I was meant to be his precious little heir. Sometimes I stepped in between him and my mother when he abused her again. He would be so angry with me then and would yell for me to get out of his way. If I refused, he would simply pick me up and lock me in one of the other cells in the dungeon and continue abusing my mother. I felt so worthless that I was not able to help my mother. She was forced to live down here in this dirty dungeon and was barely fed while I had a proper room in the castle and three course meals every day. It wasn't fair. After my father would have abused her, I would go to her and clean her wounds. I was only seven years old, and I already knew how to tend wounds. My mother gave me a faint smile and hugged me.

"I love you. Never forget that."

"I love you too, mother."

When I was ten years old the anguish my mother felt became too big to bear. I woke up that day and immediately made my way towards the basement. What I saw traumatised me for years to come. When I had entered the dungeon, I was met with the sight of my mother laying in a pool of her own blood. I ran over to her and knelt beside her.

"Mother! Mother! Can you hear me? Please don't die! I need you!"

Her eyes met mine and a tear streamed down her face.

"I am sorry."

Those were her final words before she passed away. Tears started rolling down my face at a rapid pace. My father had heard the commotion and had come down into the dungeons as well. When he saw what had happened, he tried to pull me away from my mother. I struggled against him, but he was way stronger. He dragged me out of the dungeon, and I finally pulled myself free from his grip. I angrily stared at my father before I ran to my room. I laid in my bed crying until there were no more tears to shed. The next day I saw my father cremating my mother and putting her ashes into a necklace. Why does he keep her ashes? My father put on the necklace, and I saw a singular tear roll over his cheek. In the end, did he love my mother? Was he truly heartbroken by her death? Everything didn't make sense, why would he have reason to cry? After all the abuse he put my mother through he had the audacity to cry. My despise for him grew bigger and bigger. He was the reason my mother was miserable. He was the reason she killed herself. I no longer wanted anything to do with him. He took the person that was most important to me, my mother. So, I will take what is important to him: his heir. I had to escape him, alive or dead, it didn't matter to me.