• This is just a some of it. I just updated it today. And this is the summary:

    There's a girl named Delilah who's parents began becoming a bit religious a while before she was born but she was born sleeping and sick (in her parents eyes they believed she wasn't going to be saved by god since he helped them in the past but not now) so they make a pack with the devil to offer her to him when she was 21 if he saves her life. Apparently it happens because Delilah begins to see devilish appearances all through out her child hood but her parents help keep their word. Weeks after turning 17, she runs away from the asylum they held her in. Once meeting a man who saves her she begins to feel safe. The closer they become the more difficult the situation becomes. The nightmares return, and appearances occur. She starts talking in "the devil's tongue". She has to escape the pact her parents made and only can do so with the help of her new found friend.

    Story:
    Running through the fields, I paced myself although the breaths came out unevenly like the moments when you know you’re in hell and you can't be saved. That's the sense I have at this very moment. Another eerie voice echoed throughout the walls in my subconscious,

    “Delilah, you can't hide”

    Another scream erupted from my mouth. Faster I persisted foot by foot away from the voices. The moon shone bright upon my pale chalky skin and the blood began drying in my dark brown hair. The perspiration trickled faster down my face across my lips where I had that salty taste in my mouth. The road was not far off and I maneuvered my body towards that direction. The flashing lights of the highway blinded my topaz eyes faster than I would have thought. There in the semi, there was the ghostly figure of his creation sent to beguile my soul. The adrenaline went rapid as the semi closed in on me. A tug on my body lurched me into a car and I finally shrieked. The pain was unbearable to the point I would commit suicide. The scent of a man's breath hovered over my face making me recoil.

    “Are you insane?” the voice asked. Of course I was. I should have answered that but I refused to utter a word. My lips trembled as my eyes popped open. He was inches from my face with dirty blonde hair and hypnotizing blue eyes. After a second, my vision became blurry and I lost consciousness.

    The scene I awoke to was dim but warm nonetheless. It appeared as an apartment by the size. Wincing I raised from the soft comfortable position of laying on the couch and let my eyes graze around the room. A noise came from the other room from which I smelled an aroma that made my stomach grumble. My nose directed me to the smell where that same man who saved me. He was standing before the stove cooking something with a frying pan, but the scent that caught my attention the most was the coffee brewing. I yawned to hopefully catch his attention and it worked; he turned around with a smile that made my heart stop.

    “Good morning, sleeping beauty. Feeling better?” he turned back to the cooking.




    “Mhm. Thank you for saving me,” I walked slowly towards him and put my arms around his body hugging him close to me. His blush complimented his face quite well. I smiled for I knew I was safe with this man.

    “You’re quite welcome but would you mind telling me what you were doing standing in the middle of the road at that hour?” His face was inches from mine like last night in the car

    “I was running,” I admitted. That probably didn’t explain it much but how could I tell him. Oh, I was just running away from demons sent by the devil to steal my soul. Right. That would probably end in me taking a trip to the loony ward.

    “That didn’t explain the blood in your hair though. Your head was bleeding pretty intently,” he moved my bangs away to observe the scar. I was speechless; thinking each word I would dare speak had to be thoughtful and carefully spoken.

    “I tripped. I do that a lot when I run,” I lied.

    “Don’t you have parents? I mean, you appear pretty young to be alone that time of night,” he retorted shaking his head in disapproval. That comment made me think, for my parents tried to help the ghouls capture me. If they had never made the pact with the devil in the first place, my soul would not have to bear this great danger that approached me. Rather if they never gave birth to me, I'd never face such a nightmare.

    “No.” Third lie. Wow, I was going for a record. Lying was definitely something I wasn't used to doing frequently. His gaze was something with an emotion I had always seen in my parents eyes. Pity? His eyes showed something more than that though. They told a story that not many were aware of. He stood roughly six feet tall, eyes hypnotizing sea blue, sand colored hair and had to be no older than 20.

    Not only was I staring at him but he at me. A quite type, he seemed to be but genuine.

    “Well, would you like a place to stay? I have a bedroom where you are welcome to sleep while I sleep on my couch.”
    Smiling I spoke softly, my throat pained by a burning probably just dry, “Thank you, but I couldn't.”

    He mimicked my smile, speaking just a little louder, “I promise that I'm not a *****,” then winked and laughed. I couldn't help but join in because ***** were nothing of a nightmare compared to what was in that asylum.

    “No, it's not that. It's just, I wouldn't want to keep you from getting a good night's rest, plus I couldn't allow you to give me all this and pay for me staying here.” One thing I always learned from my parents, if anything, was to be polite.

    “I don't mind. It's not like I don't have money left over besides I could help you get a job if you'd like?” A job? Hm, never thought of that one before. Of course, they kept me well educated of the world but through videos not experience. All my life, well most of it, I'd been stuck in an asylum having them run all kinds of tests on me and making sure I was tormented, everything was in place. They'd be back. Eventually. So, for the situation being ironic I nodded.
    --

    The man was apparently named Patrick and was 21, which was three years older than I. He had lived in that apartment since he graduated. Parents were no longer living, of which I didn't ask him more details. Patrick did mention a brother named Andrew who lived in Minnesota with their grandparents while he was still in finishing school. We'd both agreed that I would allow him to show me around town and meet his friends before looking for a job. So, he was quiet but preferred fun more often by the looks of it.

    My first thoughts of his friends were that they were all beautiful. The woman, who sat on the left of the group of the table we decided to sit at in the park, had lovely green eyes like the color you see in forests with ivory toned skin. Her hair was long, wavy and caramel-colored. She wore designer clothes, simply had to be in the fashion departments by the looks of it. Patrick had told me her name was Alice along with the fact she was his age. The two people to the right of her were very good-looking. The one closest to Alice was muscular but not like the spray-painted ones on television. He had eyes the color of milk chocolate, tanned skin, and hair a dark almost black that was straight. He wore label branded clothes but not the way Alice did. His name was Michael, and was 19. The last one of the three was the quietest. His eyes were blue, hair was black (dyed obviously) and straightened, with pale skin to match to the oddity. He just wore what you'd see normal teenagers in high school to wear. He stood the tallest but had muscles similar to Michael’s. He was 20 and was named Dan, probably short for Danny. Like I said, beautiful.

    Patrick stood by me the whole time making sure I wouldn't try to run away or in front of another car, no doubt. The conversation continued as if I was just a friend they'd always known although they did ask a few questions which I answered as truthfully as possible. Eventually though, I began to become deeper into the discussion when Patrick had asked Alice if any jobs were available.

    “Maybe we've been needing to find someone to replace Trace,” she spoke in a high soprano with an unsure tone.

    “Well, bippi di boppi di do,” he gestured towards me and Alice rolled her eyes. Trying not to laugh, I put my hand over my mouth.

    “Fine. I'll go ask later.” We continued on discussing everything for the remainder of the day.

    Finally, I was getting a chance to blend in with 'society' and yet at the same time I just had this feeling that it wasn't going to hold up.

    Blood came down my face, and all down the walls. The language of the devil soon erupted from my mouth, speaking of gibberish to others but to me I knew exactly what I was saying. Panting harder and faster, I pushed myself to the door. It was locked. Turning around I saw a dead body on the middle of the floor, only then once I got closer did I realize it was mine. I screamed once again as the image I had feared for so many years and the kingdom of hell opened, the world became black. I screamed.

    Just a dream, I told myself, just a dream. I was sweating, and it was dark. Looking around the room, it was all normal. No blood, no hell, no dead me. I sighed, and lied my head against the pillow then turned over to check the time. It read 3 AM; groaning I sat back up. There was no way in hell I was going back to sleep. If I did, I’d see that dream again although dream isn’t much of a word for it.

    There wasn’t much for me to do but sit there in the seat and cry. I needed help, to make a request; something. Anything to keep this from continuing. I refused to work for the damned no matter what. Once thinking it over for a while, I took a pen and note slip to write something down to Patrick to keep him from worrying.

    Left to go do something vitally important. Be back soon. Tell Alice thanks again and sorry I’m late if I’m not back before noon. And trust me, I promise I’m not going to kill myself.

    Then with that, I headed for the one place I’d never been but knew I had to go even though I’d never thought of being in such a place; church. The irony of it, a damned child entering a sacred place such as this. It was empty but I saw the statue of Mary in the front. Confessing sins was what I had heard what most did in church and praying for themselves and loved ones. Worshiping a God, no one was sure existed but still believed anyway. Explains to me why I was never allowed to touch a biblical document. It burned in my hands. After reaching the front of the church, I bent my head down and prayed not sure how but just thinking of begging for some type of forgiveness and to remove this curse. Nothing happened, but what had I known of beliefs except for the fact there was a hell? I had never known of a happier after life.

    “Hello?” a deep voice asked. Assuming who it was I turned, scared to look at him. My calculations were correct; it was a priest.
    “What are you doing here?” he asked of me. I stuttered at first until he was at close view.

    “I need help,” I whispered. That grasped his attention immediately because he took me up to his office. Offering me tea, which I accepted, he sat back in his desk.

    “What is wrong, my child?” Yes, he was definitely a priest.

    “Well, it’s a bit difficult to explain but if I must, it’s quite a long story,” I said.

    “Fine, explain child explain. I have time.” And so then, I did beginning with everything.

    “I was born 18 years ago but my parents you see didn’t have much belief in your god,” I hesitated looking at him and continued, “much because he had always been there for their tragedies in the past but no longer when I was born because when they conceived me I was very sick. They only other god they knew of was the one you all come to know as Satin. They made a deal with him that if he healed me, keeping me healthy, they would grant him their souls, but he didn’t comply. He wanted my soul, which is what the agreement became. You see, my parents wanted to give everything to see me live, but they soon became more wrapped around the idea than actually letting me have life they completely forgot the main principles of taking care of a child.”

    “So, they didn’t want anything interfering. It would appear they were possessed and no longer in control of themselves. I was locked away in an asylum my whole life. They continued taking tests on me, taking blood samples and making blood transfusions. Some were painful,” I winced before speaking again remembering the memory, “and others not so much. It all changed from day to day. I remember being happy when I saw how pleased they became at my quick learning and vocabulary but later learned it was not the kind of pleasure most parents have but the kind a person gains when learning they have great power in their palms. Not only this, but I began learning that whenever I touched any biblical document, the bible especially, it burned. When I was 14, I felt as though I truly had no hope and was damned for all eternity. I asked my parents a year later why I was not allowed near others, a time when they had control for just a moment I believed because their answer was somewhat kinder, ‘If you were blended within human society, what do you think would happen? Becoming close to others is a weakness which will destroy you and them, so we are taking the chance of that happening away.’” Taking yet another deep breath, I watched the priest’s eyes go into a shock yet with repentance for my story. He gestured for me to continued.

    “I was unhappy in the facility because the nightmarish figures began to scare me although I found it impossible to leave. I thought I never could. Last week, I head them speaking in Hebrew. Finding it odd I understood, I still listened, ‘הנשמה שלה יהיה מוכן בקרוב; סוף העולם. זה יהיה באשמתה שלנו ושל אדנות’ They laughed, then. They were glad, hoping to bring up the next apocalypse. I became scared and in a feeble attempt, I actually escaped. They chased me but I escaped and need help. I don’t know where to go or what to do. A man saved me but I don’t want him hurt, even if I feel safe around him.”