"The end" wasn't exactly the end... Though you could just pretend that it was and ignore this LOL XD

Have you heard some say that people who are weak, hurting and hopeless are the best targets for evil? That they’re just so much more vulnerable that way and they’re misery in life blinds them, makes them so easy to control, so easy to possess?

False.

Anyone out there can fall victim of Satan and his imps. It can happen to anyone, to the person you know, to the person close to you, or you, yourself.

Go Hera had always been a strange kid. Everyone in the orphanage, even the caretakers, not only found her odd but quite eerie as well. She had a very bad temper and would stop at nothing to have revenge. Oddly enough, the children she had bad encounters with fell ill all of a sudden. It was thought to be mere coincidence but it happened a little too often to be considered that.

‘Cursed child’ is what they used to call her. She was purposefully excluded from any group activities because of this strange, almost hair raising characteristic. She didn’t mind. She hated socializing with the others anyway. She despised her caregivers and most likely took care of herself at a young age.

Hera was ten years old when she got adopted. For the longest time, she actually felt happy. Not just happy to be finally out of that damned orphanage but also because she’ll be having an actual family now. The orphans and caretakers were glad to have her leave too. Finally, they thought, life in the orphanage would feel less heavy. They’re burden was finally taken away but with that loss, also came tragedy.

A week after she’s settled in at her new parents house, the orphanage had strangely experienced a huge fire incident that took almost half the lives of the people there. The couple was overwhelmed to have seen such news flashing on the TV, even more so that their daughter was laughing at the screen. “They deserved it,” they heard her say under her breath before skipping away to play with her doll.

Life was supposed to be better. Hera was supposed to be happy. She was supposed to have parents who loved her and had time for her. They were supposed to pay attention to her and only her but it didn’t exactly work out that way.

At the age of thirteen, her parents’ small business boomed. They were suddenly too busy for her, unable to attend to her needs and leaving her with stupid maids. ‘What the is this?’ she thought. She was happy to get out of the orphanage to have a proper family, a happier life that didn’t consist of irritating children and good-for-nothing caregivers who merely did their job, not actually caring for the children they looked after.

She would always give the maids at their house a hard time. They simply couldn’t understand her odd mood swings. She could be okay one minute and seething with rage the next. She would be talking to them good naturedly now then suddenly spitting out curses at them later. It was so hard to please her. They found it suffocating to always be at their toes just because the Jung’s little brat was too sensitive.

Not only had they had weird sleep paralysis ever since they stayed in the house hold but have also felt paranoia about being followed, being watched over and having heard things. They would have a panic attack experiencing such things and Hera would just look at them with this dark, piercing gaze and wicked smirk, seemingly satisfied of whatever it is that’s happening to them. This abnormality had maids come and go ever so often. It had suddenly become a routine to see new faces after only a few months.

“Are we not paying them enough? Why do they keep quitting on us?” Mr. Jung asked his wife with an exasperated sigh. The woman only gave him a hopeless shake of the head. “Maybe you shouldn’t hire anymore. Why can’t one of you just stay with me?” The sixteen year old Hera mumbled through a pout. Mrs. Jung softened, motioning for her to come into the living and sit with them on the couch. “Dear, I’m really sorry we haven’t been around. You know how much our company is growing. All we want is for you to have a bright future so just hang in there a little bit, okay? Focus on your studies, okay Hera?”

The girl was upset. It was evident when she shot up from the couch and darted away. Unlike other teenagers though, she didn’t head straight to her room but instead, to the basement. She didn’t quite understand why she preferred the dark more than anything else. Maybe it was because of the voices she heard, the weird chill that would envelope her or just the mere knowledge of not being able to see anything.

There she sat on the cold floor, knees to her chest with her arms folded on top of it. “This place is almost as bad as that stupid orphanage. My so called ‘parents’ are just about as good as those deceiving caregivers who only seemed to care.”

Whispers in her ear suddenly made a smile spread across her lips. Whether she has completely lost it or if these voices are what she thinks they are, she didn’t quite care. She enjoyed hearing their little remarks to whatever she says. They were funny. Freezing cold started to prickle on her skin. She shivered but she liked it anyway.

As months passed, things have gotten stranger. The maids that work for them were suddenly disappearing. If they hadn’t, they somehow lost their minds and are clapped into a madhouse. Hera’s parents, who aren’t at all that old, were experiencing illnesses left and right. It was like they were deteriorating, painfully, agonizingly.

Her school had sudden cases of students committing suicide. Nobody knew why but the people closest to these students would only say one thing. “It’s not like her to do this type of thing. She’s only been acting weird ever since she had a conflict with that girl, Hera.” These incidents are pointing to her yet the girl didn’t even care. Maybe it was her doing but she didn’t do them alone, not without any help from others.

For nearly two years, she has been spending more time in the basement than any other place in the entire house. She wanted to at least see her friends. They have been with her for years now. Research after research has been done. Her books and notebooks were oddly filled with doodles and scribbles of these things called demons.

She was so fascinated with them. She’d like to see these evil entities, watch them work even, watch them play with people and torment them. She had always imagined how they’d look like. Are they as scary looking as people make them out to be? Can they even materialize or are they just weird black figures? Are they tangible or are they smoke-like?

It wasn’t normal for someone to be giddy about seeing these preternatural beings but Hera wasn’t exactly what you’d call normal anyway. So one night, with the skies dark and grey, heavy with rain and illuminated with lightning, she decided to come down to her little sanctuary–  the basement. She had a huge, ancient looking book with thick leather covers and an embossment of Latin words that would most likely scream evil.

Already, the atmosphere in the basement felt thick and sinister. The thunder roared as the girl set up her little summoning ritual. The pitch black basement was lit up with candles, the shadows they made taking up scary shapes.

There was an odd symbol chalked on the floor where the candles sat. In the middle of it, Hera stood with the book opened to a particular page. Gracefully, her tongue uttered the Latin mantra. Her voice seemed to have echoed. It rose, intensified as the thunder clapped and roared louder and louder. Then she silenced, the candles blown out, not by the harsh winds outside but another force.

Her heart pumped. It was beating frantically. Goosebumps ran up her arms and the hairs on her neck stood in attention. She anxiously stood in her spot, seemingly glued to it despite her attempts to move. A thin sheen of perspiration suddenly and quickly accumulated on her forehead as she heard what seemed like chains clanking against each other. For the first time ever, she hated not seeing anything. For the first time ever, she felt uncomfortable in her favorite place.