"Aren't we all Damaged?"
Being a Hybrid has its perks, but it also has its disadvantages. Abigael had been on both ends of those sticks, she's been on them for a while. But there was a fraction in the Demon world that would want her dead and another...
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*England, Surrey - February 14th, 1795*
It had been little over a century since Maragets death. Since the binding of Abigael's demonic powers were lifted. Releasing a new-breed of evil into the world. Azazel did so much to nurture that side of her, to bring the darkness forward and bury whatever light she had left. Filled her with hate, rage, and pure chaos, like a full blooded demon. She exceeded all the expectations that he set for her, and they were pretty high standards. But after fifty years, Abigael vanished from his radar. Just went into the wind, like smoke. He couldn't find her. Only thing he could find was carnage and chaos through England, but by then she had left. Leaving only destruction in her wake.
Abigael had returned to Surrey, standing at the same oak tree that her Mother had been buried at. Through the years, she would often visit, but as more time passed her attendance became less and less. The oak tree was in bloom, its branches swaying in the gentle breeze. Its shade offered protection from the sun. Abigael looked down at the base of the tree, seeing marks etched into its bark. But nothing deep, as if the wood was made out of the strongest stuff in the world. Abigael knew it was a possibility that people would come to cut the tree for its wood. But she placed a spell upon the tree, allowing it to thrive, to grow. Not to be uprooted from its position. Her eyes finally looked upon her Mother's grave. It was overgrown with moss, and dirt. You could barely make out who it was.
With a simple wave of her hand, the tombstone began to shake violently, and allowed the dirt and moss to fall right off. It cleaned it right up. She could now see her Mother's name engraved onto the stone.
"Take another step, and I will kill you," Abigael's voice soared through the air, unexpectedly. But she never turned around to face the intruder. "And you will not go back to Hell," she sensed that it wasn't a mortal but a Demon.
"The Demon who has been causing chaos through England," a husky British male voice pierced the air. "I must say, I am impressed," Abigael turned her whole body around to face the man, who was only inches away. His eyes wandered her figure, admiring her body.
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His blue eyes glistened in the sunlight, his short, mucky-blonde hair was slightly combed up. He also was rocking this goatee beard. Attractive was an understatement. But nevertheless, she could feel the demon inside.
