Marked by Daemons

prologue

9:03 pm September 11th 2019
Infirmary, The Association HQ

"They found her in the Osama house," a voice starts. "She was unconscious and uninjured, but both her parents were dead. There wasn't any wreckage in the house, though. Only the door of the wardrobe, where we found the girl."

"No wreckage you say?" Another voice, this one more authoritative than the last. "Impossible. All the High Daemons were eradicated decades ago. Were there any bloodstains? Bullet marks? Poison? Signs that it may have been a human that murdered them?"

A moment of silence.

"No sir," the first voice again. "The parents look as if they could be asleep but didn't have a pulse."

A slam on the table. "Impossible." Footsteps pacing up and down the room. "Osama wouldn't have let his guard down like that. He was amongst the best."

She hears footsteps approaching the room she is currently in. It is small and sparse with only a single bed, a tiny wardrobe and a window looking out to the bustling city outside. The sky is dark and the lights of the vehicles stuck in traffic and the several bright buildings make it hard to see the stars. Unlike how the stars were always within reach back home.

She turns away from the door and pretends to sleep, she doesn't want to remember what happened in the morning, what that monster had done to her family. She chokes back tears as she hears a soft knock.

The door squeaks open and she can see the lights from the corridor and the long shadow of a man spanning across the floor.

"I know you're awake," he says, walking towards the bed she was curled up in. She pulls the sheets across her tightly. It's the authoritative voice from earlier. "I just have a few questions to ask you... About what happened in the morning."

No response. She tries to even her breathing, and a face flashes in her mind. The Daemon that killed her parent. Her neck feels like it's on a furnace.

"If you cooperate with us we can find the killer and make them pay for what they did," he tries.

"He's not like a normal Daemon," she says.

He looks at her curiously. She's a peculiar child he can see, hair dyed a bright blue, skinny, small build. She looks to be around thirteen, but he knows that she's fifteen, because of the reports on her family.

"What do you mean, child?"

"He's not like the others," she insists, back still turned to him. "He didn't look like the others..." Her voice breaks. "He looked like a human."

He feels his heart clench. "And what did he look like? I know your father wouldn't have let a stranger inside the house."

She sits up and looks at him, a hollow look in her eyes. She's terrified, scarred. What she's seen shouldn't have been seen by someone as young as her. But that's what happens in the Association. Once you're a Hunter, your safety is compromised. Once you have the Sight, the Daemons will hunt you.

"He..." Her eyes unfocus and stare at the space behind him. She snaps back into reality and shakes her head. "I don't remember, just that I think... I think mama and dada knew him before..." Her eyes water. "I'm sorry," she sobs into her palms.

"Hey, hey, don't cry, you're doing a great job," he kneels at the foot of her bed. "Did he hurt you?"

She touches her neck absently. He hissed at the sight of the long pink scar that looked months old. "He touched me here," she traces the mark and looks up at him with large brown eyes. "And it burned. It hurt so much, he said something, I can't... I can't remember."

He nods solemnly. "I'll send the nurses to check up on that. Thank you for your help, Saiha."

She flinches. "It's Sai now."