Avery slowly walked into his house, looking around at everything except the blood. 'Where is the demon?' He quietly tiptoed towards his father's room. The floorboards creaked underneath his feet, sounding like gunshots in the complete silence. His father's door opened slowly on its own. His red eyes seem to gleam in the dim light of the hallway.

     "My disappointment of a son is home? Hello, Avery, did you like your present?" Avery stood there, frozen. 'How could I have ever thought that I would be ready to fight this demon? I should have had a weapon ready.' He started to back away.  He should get revenge, to lunge at his father, to strangle him, to- His father smiled. "She was being troublesome, your mother. She wouldn't leave me alone about you. Telling me not to hit you, even though you're the real demon. You're the reason for all of this." He always said that, but Avery could never figure out exactly how anything was his fault. But after hearing it for 17 years, he'd started to believe it, no matter how irrational it is. 'It's my fault. Somehow.' It's like he'd been brainwashed. 

     "How?! How is ANYTHING MY FAULT?!" He screamed, at least he tried to, but his voice was too weak. It was more of a scared yelp. His father pulled a syringe out of his pocket and jabbed it into Avery's neck. Seconds later, Avery blacked out.