Origins

She was pregnant when she left me, no note, no trail. Josette had been good at covering things up, but she’d slipped at the end. That’s how I knew she was carrying my child. I didn’t think she had it in her to run. My mistake.

I expected a daughter. Witches always have girls. There’s a bunch of lore about why, including prophecies warning of the First of Many – the male witch whose son would have a son who would have a son who breaks the world. Never had a male witch been born nor likely would be.

My own mother had tried to pass me off as the First, but that wasn’t why I was special. Wasn’t the spells she fed me, either. It was the father who didn’t belong in this world who gave me my power, such as it is.

I use illusion to fool folks into seeing what they fear most. Demons are a big favorite – proof that most have never experienced the terror of meeting an angel. The cast-out are easier to face than God’s precious warriors, but not much.  

The young man facing me wanted to see a demon, a monster, a foe. At first, I let him. Then he tried to banish me using his mother’s words. I barely kept from laughing at this terribly serious boy.

My boy.

My son.

The First.

I let him see the real me, so like him.

“No,” he prayed, but God doesn't hear aberrations like us.

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Written for Thursday Threads, found here. Romance, erotica, dark fiction, good people. Check it out.
Note: this is from the POV of Seth's father.