It's been 3 weeks now, I am thankful my new mother, I have now learned is called Margaret, my name being Ebenezer, atleast has a little more sense than my father Axel. She doesn't ignore my depression after learning that the devil smiled at me, and actually is nice to me.

Which is honestly baffling to me. I do not understand why she acts like this towards my useless, financially lucky, child killing self.

Just thinking about it still sends shivers, but it seems to be getting better. By better; I mean that I have had one night where I never woke up from a nightmare, but I'm not sure if I can even allow that to happen, after I saw what happened, no, after what I did to Janice, Darwin, Sam and Laurel, I cannot forgive myself.

Yet the world seems to forgive me, and I hate it, well, the people of this world, it seems I am here by the choice of the devil. While I am glad I lived, due to the occurance in the church, I doubt my children are here aswell.

They were my angels, to die so young cannot be less than a great sin, if they still live anywhere, it'll be in heaven, not around these demonic beings. I am convinced of that, as I can only dread any other outcome.

Right now, I am sitting at the out of place dinner table with my parents, who are eating something for the first time since I was born. It's meat covered in some sort of gel-like substance, it's not like the jello-food of the early 20th century, it is more like a thin layer.

The meat is cubed or mushed, and it's honestly kind of disgusting, it's not even cooked at all, just the bones and skin have been removed, I assume the organs are mushed with the mushed meat.

The reason they are eating this? It's to celebrate my father. I think it might be his birthday or something else entirely, but it seems they eat only on celebration. My mother took a small piece of meat in a spoon and offered me it, despite me being a 3 week old child, and not needing food to survive, I had teeth already, well, if you can call them teeth. They are like little stubs, just large enough to chew on something, in this case, it is meat.

I really don't want to eat this, I recognize I don't need to eat, so I'd rather not eat gelatin covered raw meat if I could. Pushing the hand away, seems to have done the opposite of what I wanted, as that just convinced her that I wasn't used to eating, with her trying for the next five minutes to get me to eat the raw piece of meat until I finally relented.

At first it felt disgusting, merely by my thoughts guiding me, but as soon as I bit into it, I felt a completely foreign sensation, it felt like pee shivers, except far more intense. Like something was entering my body, despite me not having swallowed the meat.

My parents seem to enjoy my reaction to 'food', despite my initial discomfort with the food, it was honestly quite good, tasty even. When I finally swallow the meat and another wave of shivers comes over me, this time far more intense than even the first bite.

I have no clue why this is happening, food isn't supposed to do this, nor do I enjoy it enough to shiver in joy. It seems there's just something happening when I eat it, though that may just be due to demons having different biology compared to humans.

Anyways, my mother makes a platter of small meats for her to spoon feed me, the second, third and etc. time were definitiely not as intense as the first time eating, though the foreign sensation doesn't disappear, it feels like I am taking in some sort of essence from the food, not that I'd even know how that is supposed to feel, yet it just feels like a natural conclusion.

After dinner was over - I'm not even sure if you can even call it that considering we don't eat often enough to even have meal schedules - my mother took me with her out to the village market.

The chaos of the fact that I was looked at by the devil seems to have finally died down, but now, instead of praise, people tend to bow slightly toward me everytime they pass, even though I am a baby. I swear, it's like I am Jesus to them or something, wait, no, I may very well be that, if The Devil actually sent me to this place, I may aswell be a messenger of their god.

This feels so surreal; I really hope that I am in a coma and am just dreaming this whole thing, but that is just a fading wish, considering I've spent weeks here, where every moment felt real. I only now realized that a fucking statue moved to look at me, that should be physically impossible, yet I saw it with my own eyes, nevermind the fact that the statue is possibly controlled by The Devil.

I don't deserve this; I have done nothing to deserve so much reverence, I killed them, I murdered, I am to blame for all, yet here people are, blindly praising me due to the words of my Mother and the Priest. I start crying, despite me not being much of a crier, there is only so much pressure I can take, though the crying is directed at noone, as my mother isn't speaking to anyone, just looking through various pendants and other jewelry, as that is one of the few things people can buy due to the whole 'not eating food' thing.

Maybe I do deserve this; I am in a world of sin, where I am probably the biggest heretic, of course people would praise such a thing. I may aswell be the most horrible person in this town, considering they are nicer to me than any person I've met in the past. I cry more, yet no sign of a baby's shout can be heard, since I am an adult in this body. It must be strange seeing a 3 week old cry without any shouts or whining, but I cannot help it, I want to keep these tears to myself, to not bother others.

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My mother looks at me worriedly. Stop doing that, stop worrying about me. I have no right to be the object of such worry.

I am a weak man; I will cry at the smallest thing, it is embarassing to look like I do. I hate this, due to my crying all I've done is worry mother, she takes me home stopping her shopping trip early, due to me ruining it.

"dah!" Not wanting to ruin her joy, through my tears I point towards something, just anything I may be interested in to the hope of

The object I pointed at was an earring, I don't know how they have earrings, considering they probably rust like hell if made of iron or something. It's a nice looking earring, for a peasant village that is, because they can't get gemstones or anything it it has large circle hanging from it with a nice image of a tree.

It was only an earring, there was not a pair, and my mother seemed glad I was curious about something, considering I'm supposed to be an infant and all.

On the topic of that, it really feels surreal being in an infant's body, I can barely move myself, needing to be carried around everywhere as my muscles are not even barely developed, when I pointed that finger, I swear it's the most I've moved during this entire life. Now that I think about it I feel like I can move far more freely today, like I just suddenly gained alot of energy I didn't previously have. I don't know why that is, but compared to yesterday, I feel like I can do somersaults or something.

My mother looks at the earring and chooses to buy it, smiling at me like she did at the church. I must be a real debby downer for her to act like that at a simple thing like pointing out an earring I liked, but I can't help it! I killed my children...

I need to focus on something else; this is getting to me too much, but I also don't want to... God damn it, I started crying again.

After ruining the day again, my mother finally takes me home after I assume she thought that I disliked the market. Well, I didn't like it necessarily, it's like a really small mall where nothing of interest is sold, and everything is cheap as hell by modern standards.

When we get home, my father is there as usual, but there is another man sitting next to him. A really old man is sitting next to him, while I say he is really old, he doesn't look a day older than 40, but it just feels like the man has lived a long life; if not the longest life.

The man stands strong, though, sitting in this case, his massive figure and large, detailed, grown backwards horns stand out greatly compared to anyone in the village. The massive figure especially stands out, it is like he's a professional bodybuilder, except he doesn't present himself so, treating himself like a politician and wearing the clothing of a noble.

"Margaret!" He shouts in a smile "argur Ebenezer, er sorar inn" He says me and my mother's name, it feels kind of strange being recognized by such a powerful looking person, definitely a noble; considering the era we look to be in.

"int or merger Ebenezer ar Blackthorn" I am confused right now, while I understand him saying my name, with my limited knowledge of this language, essentially just an intuition of what sounds right and doesn't, my mother speaking my name when talking directly to the man before us is something I do not understand.

They keep exchanging greetings, eventually my mother joins my dad on the couch opposite of the large man, in more ways than one, I wonder if horn size is something akin to dick size in this world. Anyways, that was off topic; they seem to be talking about me, like always, acting like I am Jesus, again.

Soon when the business is over, the large man speaks with me with a smile and points at himself. "Ebenezer ar Blackthorn" he states what I assume to be his name, and now I finally can clear up my confusion from earlier, the man has the same name as me, was I named after him? I am unsure if he's a relative, it would be strange to name me after someone like him otherwise, though maybe it's just a coincidence.

Soon, when the conversation is fully over, the large man; Ebenezer - which won't get confusing surely - walks over towards me and picks me up from my mother's grip, "waaah" I embarassingly start crying like a baby because the man is honestly scary, and I am not in the mood for strangers right now as the most I've seen of them is them just blindly worshipping me.

It caused the man to laugh, bellowing like a grandpa - maybe he is related - but when I finally stop crying and start to actually wonder why he is holding me in front of him, like I am some sort of lab rat. But I soon realize why, as the same feeling as when I was eating the meat was felt within me, except it was like a thousand times stronger, it felt not painful; but extremely discomforting, like a foreign substance such as a poison was entering my body.

I don't understand what is happening, soon I start feeling pain, like the top of my head is on fire, I start crying, obviously. I am starting to realize maybe my emotional problems stem from me being a baby. Yet, I feel it is a good thing, the foreign sensation growing me as a person, after what felt like 5 minutes, he finally stopped whatever he was doing, despite only holding me, it felt like he had somehow touched every sense in my body with meat.

I still feel pain in my head and after stopping my crying I touch my head confirm why, I feel a bump on my bald infant head, and a wet, sticky fluid, taking my hand off my head I see that it is blood. Blood. why am I bleeding? Does it have to do with the bump on my head?

The man smiles at me, when he sees I've stopped crying, and touches the bump on my head, stroking it, though I don't feel anything except the skin around it. He then points at the horns on his head with a smile, and I finally realize what has happened. I have horns!

I am seriously confused right now, what did he do to make me grow horns like that, does meat grow your horns? Is that why my parents were eating it? And is that why the rich guy has big horns unlike my parents' which are only about 5 inches tall?

Tons of questions fill my head, but I am too focused on the weird old man and the fact that I literally have horns now, who cares about not needing to eat, who cares about my pointy ears? I have horns.

The man finally leaves saying his goodbyes to my parents, heading back, to what I assume is his home, unless he lives in our attic or something like I used to at my previous dad's house. When I think about it, I've never seen this new dad drink a single drink of alcohol, though maybe he is just careful around me because I am a baby, but atleast it's unlike my previous dad who didn't care at all about my existence.

My mother finally goes to clean off the blood on my head, it seems I have stopped bleeding finally, I wasn't really worried about bleeding to death, but atleast there is no chance of that happening.

Dad seems ecstatic, constantly touching my horns while speaking baby language, despite my lack of care about his play he is insistent on trying to make my forty year old self laugh.

Thankfully my mother cuts his play short and points outside to the darkness sweeping over the sun, and we finally go to bed after this extremely long and exhausting day. Though I doubt it'll be any less exhausting than the upcoming nightmares.