Taken by the Demon King

Chapter One [ introduction ] I always hated Greyhaven. To be fair, I always hated my life, too. Christian households were suffocating—steeped in hypocrisy and religious fanaticism. The Mormons, somehow, seemed even worse. I never once heard my parents admit to a single mistake. It was like watching a cosplay of Jesus Christ himself: fake perfection, impossible rules, and constant judgment, no matter how hard I tried. I was never good enough. ✧ We were an oddly large community for religious standards: the town had just under 3,000 people, and it wasn’t an exaggeration to say everyone knew each other. Most of the population was evangelical, with a Catholic minority, which, ironically, made us the weirdos in town. ✧ And, let’s be real, Greyhaven was the kind of place tailor-made for weirdos, fanatics, and lunatics in their purest form. Even so, we were too weird for Greyhaven. I still remember how the kids would stop and stare when I walked to school. They say kids are innocent, that there’s nothing purer than a child. I, personally, completely disagree. I remember the times they threw eggs at me, the insults they hurled, the beatings I took for no reason at all. ✧ Every day was a reminder that I didn’t belong there. There was nothing innocent about that place. Everything was rotten at its core. And things got worse with the scandal involving the FLDS Mormons. Even though Warren Jeffs and his loyal fanatics were miles away, it didn’t take long for the news to spread through town like wildfire. It was the perfect excuse to finally drive us out of Greyhaven. ✧ Being Mormon, in a way, became a crime. Many members converted, terrified of even worse backlash, as if we carried some collective sin we never committed. And us? It destroyed my dad. From a quiet, calm man, he became a VIP at every bar in town, always drowning in alcohol. My mom tried to convert at any cost, desperate for social approval. Still, the dirty looks never stopped. People crossed the street when they saw us, and the tension in the air was almost suffocating. ✧ That’s how I met Tyler. He had everything my family didn’t: respect from the community, the sheriff’s son, with a devout mother. The guy was the golden boy, the kind everyone envied and admired. Falling for him was almost inevitable. When you’re starving for attention, any crumb feels like a feast. ✧ He pulled me out of the shadows. Suddenly, I wasn’t the weird girl in baggy clothes sitting at the back to avoid being noticed. I was someone—even if that someone was just “the girlfriend.” I hate to admit it, but I loved being the center of attention. I loved seeing the other girls jealous, loved every drop of positive emotion I could squeeze out. It was such a stark contrast to my life that when the ring came, I didn’t think twice. It wasn’t just a marriage: it was an escape, a chance to finally break free from that house. Even though I had a degree, opportunities in a town that small were rare—businesses were limited to bars, pharmacies, and not much else. ✧ Tyler was my golden ticket out of there. So, I didn’t complain when he grabbed my arm too hard. Instead, I became exactly what I criticized: I pretended not to see, convinced myself I was overreacting, that “men are just like that.” When he pushed me, I questioned whether it had really happened. But everything changed the night he hit me, during an argument about what time I should come home. That’s when I realized: the universe didn’t care about me. No winged being was coming down from the heavens to save me. My dad couldn’t save me—not even if he tried. ✧ In that moment, I saw I had only two choices: accept living like this for the rest of my life… or just leave. For the first time in my pathetic existence, I chose to act. I wouldn’t be a bystander anymore. As soon as he fell asleep, I grabbed Nina, my shih-tzu—Tyler’s birthday gift to me—packed everything I owned (which barely filled a single backpack), crept down to the car in the garage, and started the engine. Dead silence. ✧ There was no plan. Just a phone with 12% battery, a few bucks, and a credit card Tyler would cancel as soon as he woke up. But for the first time, I chose to face the fear of the unknown over the terror of the familiar. Nina rested in my lap as Greyhaven faded in the rearview mirror. I smiled at the town that had swallowed my entire childhood. The lights of other cars lit the way, and the town grew distant, each mile carrying away a piece of my past. ✧ The next town was Milford, 35 kilometers away—about 30 to 40 minutes. The capital of Maine was 180 kilometers—two and a half hours if I was lucky. Tyler would sleep long enough for me to cross the state without trouble. I opened the trunk and grabbed my phone. Nina huffed but didn’t move, just watched me as I dialed home. One… two… three. ✧ “Hello?” My dad’s voice came through, hoarse, like he’d just been woken up. “Hey,” I said, trying to hold back the tears that insisted on falling. My parents were never happy—not with each other, not with the life they chose. I always felt like a burden, something that got in the way instead of helping. I always wanted to give them something they never had—a bit of peace, of joy… but I never imagined that at almost 25, I’d be running away from home in the middle of the night, escaping an alcoholic husband who didn’t seem to care about me. “It’s me,” I said, unsure how to explain that I was on a deserted road, with a black eye, a few clothes, and a dog. ✧ Silence. I cleared my throat, not sure if he was still there. My heart raced. Then, finally, a sigh. “Damn. You’re on the road.” “Look,” I started, my chin trembling, “don’t freak out, but I have to disappear for a while.” I could feel his tension even over the phone, the sound of him switching ears—a nervous habit. “You okay?” His voice was cold but heavy with concern. “Dad, I…” I tried, but the tears streamed down uncontrollably. “I’m okay,” I said, as Nina licked my chin, tickling me and pulling an involuntary smile. ✧ “Portland’s a shithole, but at least no one cares if you’re Mormon, a runaway, or a nobody,” he said. “Take Interstate 95. Apartment 3B, The Seagull building, 245 Marginal Way. It’s been abandoned for years, but it was decent when I lived there in college. I was gonna give it to you one of these days.” ✧ I stood still, blinking, trying to process. Then I smiled, because despite his few words, he always knew exactly what to do. “Thanks, Dad,” I murmured, feeling the lump in my throat. “Hazel, promise me you’ll never go back, that you won’t trap yourself in a failed marriage with someone who doesn’t fight for you like I did.” Nina squirmed in my lap, and I couldn’t help but smile, despite the ache in my chest. ✧ “I’ll miss you,” I said finally, before hanging up. I stared at the road, and at the top of the hill, I saw the only light that wasn’t from the streetlights—a small reminder of home as I moved forward.