Battered and nearly broken, Mary Anne Hart spent most of her time in her room in silent meditation. Her father, the brutal torment of her each and every days’ realization; she just did not seem to have anything else within her being, to use against his abusive nature.

Of his demands, she kept herself to a strict code of her own personal conduct. These steps listed by herself, she committed to every night.

Burning candles to say grace alone, the young eighteen year old girl would not waste the fuel of her father’s lanterns that she may be illuminated within the dark that surrounds her.

The darkness, it seemed to be more comfortable than ever to Mary these days. For the look of her father’s face as seen within the day’s light will haunt her to the grave.

The man, he was hell-bent on her submittal of his power in influence of authority. She could not take a shower, or even go to the bathroom without being monitored by his watchful eye, and if she did anything inappropriate while peeing or washing herself; the girl would be whipped until the abusive man was contented that she would never do such a thing again.

As so many tormented happen to come cross, there was one that was always with her.

By any individuals’ private observations of this alleged night time visiting, bedroom imaginary friend, this would be almost always assumed; to be as part of some kind of growing mental psychoses due to estrangement by her forced detachment from society.

This imaginary friend, it looked in Mary’s eyes to be her twin of every natural and unnatural feature.

Mary called the imaginary friend Tracy, after her now passed mother; even though if her father were to ever hear her speak aloud to her, the girl would be whipped for consorting with demons; or some such nonsense.

..... Mary, Mary...... Scary Mary..... Of your father’s pride, he cannot be hurt; by that which he does not know.....

“..... Scary, Tracy? each night I see you creeping out from the shadows as if you are some spirit..... Why young friend would you find fear of me and of may many insecurities?”

..... I find you scary, Mary for you will not need to pay toll of the Boatman’s Ferry.....

“..... Mary! I charge you with diabolical deeds..... You will now give yourself ten lashes, or I shall whip you until the demon bleeds.....”

..... Speak in voice, Mary the evil that is your father’s name...... And of his punishments shall you never bear the brutality of his abuses never again.....

Mary Anne Hart, rose to her feet and blew out the candles so no one would now lay eyes upon her own decisive actions. The eighteen year old girl grabbed hold the handle of her leather whip and dropped her gown to the floor as she set down slowly upon her aching knees.

Ten times, she whipped herself, the flailing of her scourging stinging with each and every strike. On the last hit she rose her voice and shouted aloud her father’s name, without fear of his spite.

Tracy smiled wide, her eyes shrouded black. The sounds of Mary’s father marching up the stairs, drawing her back into the shadows. The man removed his belt. Mary kept her place.

Mary’s father now screamed. The shadows upon the wall before him as he approached Mary’s room, they loosed a being fast upon him. Feigning the semblance of his one and only daughter, the shadow cast entity had now eyes and a mouth opened wide with chattering teeth.

Hugo Howard Holmes found that he could not move. The evil entity paralyzing the man fast with fear. The mouth of the shade opened wide and the entity chewed the man up one piece at a time.

The shadow thing, it did not care for any such reservations that humans may consider as being- distasteful by nature. It slowly consumed flesh and blood, and hair and bone.

Mary cried a single tear, as Tracy returned by her side.

“.....Jest not to shed tears for so brutal the man Scary Mary..... For he is deserving of no honor of his relation to you, or of his passing.....”

Mary rose slowly to her feet.

“..... I cry tears not for my father...... I cry tears for you.....”

“..... Surely you jest Mary..... I am berthed of demons, that evil which is abyssal born..... I have saved you from this wicked man’s brutal atrocities being enacted on you by him in continuity..... Why do you shed tears for me?”

“Mary’s eyes flared crimson with ingots of burning flame, as she turned to face Tracy.

“..... Because, mother..... I am much more than a demon; that is Abyssal born..... I am one of nine devils, that is by inferno’s wrath; human-born.....”

Bruises and slashes from multiple whippings and scourging assaults, slowly healed as Mary raised from within, an aura of Hell’s flames. Tracy, could not believe that which she now could see.

“..... Your father Mary..... He was right to beat you..... You are a demon.....”

“..... No mother..... As I have already stated I am a devil, and you will now be scourged by claw and by thorn.....”

Hell’s grasp, in form of flaming hands ending in lethal claws breached through the floors of Mary’s darkened bedroom.

“..... Welcome father...... Holmes’ blood has opened the gate, and now Satan is now in control of your fate.....”

The demon screamed as the flames consumed its Abyssal visage. The breach once again sealed closed, as the entity is drawn quickly beneath.

Mary Anne Hart, stretched her back and gave in to a tired yawn. It was now time for her to get a good night's sleep. For on the morrow, of her anointed duties must she now reap.....