[Alyssa].
It wasn't a name that I had been given at birth like others I had heard of. It was a name that I had given to myself, after finally escaping from the clutches of those people.
Before that, I was called one thing.
Devil.
In the group that I grew up in, it wasn't uncommon for people to become excessively worried about their 'sins'. Of course, every religion had no-no's, but this group, specifically, was obsessively concerned over their 'sins'.
It was an innocent deviation from the norm.
"Ah, today I lied."
"Ah, today I forgot to say any sort of prayer."
"Ah, today I got envious over my friend's clothes."
These were the sort of things that each member of the group obsessively documented, any sin, no matter how small, was carefully written down, committed deeply to memory, and prayed for.
If it ended there, I'd have no story to tell but that of a weird religion. Perhaps I wouldn't even have been born, considering what I later found out.
But, beyond that seemingly innocent, if odd act of caring about sins, lay the true reason for my birth. The fact that I had been born into this world already meant that it was too late.
-----
"It is not enough to simply pray for forgiveness."
It was a sentiment often echoed by the people around me.
They said it to each other. However, when they looked at me...there was only one thing they'd say.
"Devil."
That was what people whispered under their breath whenever they referred to me.
My own father, my own mother, my friends, the parents of my friends…everyone in the 'group' called me that. I was a stupid, innocent kid. Why would I know what it meant?
I was excluded from the group 'meetings'. I didn't even know what the 'Devil' was. I just thought it was a funny nickname.
My friends, who started out being warm to me, grew colder and colder towards me. The older I became, it was like the world itself became more hostile. And I became more hostile in return.
I grew up unloved and uncared for. I didn't break. I refused to. Instead, I just cursed the shitty world around me.
I thought that was enough to live. Having people to hate, and nothing but pure defiance against those same people. However, in the end, I couldn't break away from the system that they raised me to believe in. Even if I couldn't understand anything as well as they did, I still grew up in the same organization.
I felt that I could handle everything as long as I kept my faith, but there was a world that I hadn't even walked close to yet.
The world of violence.
It happened one day when I was walking around the neighborhood.
"Hey, Devil!"
They called out to me. I ignored them. It was just another attempt by them at insulting me. Maybe that was my mistake. Or maybe, it was an utterly pointless action.
Before I knew it, I found myself on the ground, a white hot flash of pain searing through my body. The teen who had punched me stepped away, and I could faintly see him grinning with malice.
"W-what the fu-kkkkrgh-?!"
I let out the most miserable, pathetic sound I'd ever heard, as another jolt of pain tore through my body - a kid had stepped up and kicked me in the gut while I was rolling over out of pain.
"Shut up, devil!"
"K-khhh-s-st-"
I coughed, desperately trying my best to roll away. But another, unseen attacker caught me with a kick in the back. My liver cried out in agonizing pain.
My back arched. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't stand, my head was spinning and full of pain…
And the abuse continued. More and more of them showed up, continuing to kick me and curse at me.
My eyes rolled around in my head. I was barely conscious, but I could see everything.
The faces of the teens stomping me out, people who I had once thought of as friends. The neighbours, their parents, passing by me callously…
And among those passing people, my parents, who didn't even spare a glance towards me.
As I surrendered myself to darkness, I realized.
'Ah. So this is why I was born.'
-----
The cult - as I had long realized it to be - believed not in moral responsibility, but for offering true apology for sin. A 'payment' for sin. They could not kill. They wouldn't kill. But they would 'absolve' their sins.
Not through prayer. Praying is not enough.
So they used me. I was the 'Devil'. I was the surrogate for all of their sins.
They beat me, neglected me, starved me, shouted curses and profanity at me - and none of it mattered.
Because I am the 'Devil'.
In that place, in that 'compound', I lost track of time. And soon, I found myself obsessively thinking just one thing.
'God, why am I not pure? Why can't I be pure? Why…?'
I was lost. I was far past caring about anger. I just felt betrayed by this world. A world that allowed me to be born just to be hated for existing. To not have my own identity. To have my very life only be allowed to continue for the sake of others's relief and peace of mind.
Then, the Pixie appeared in the compound. It transported us all to somewhere different.
I found guns in my hands, while everyone else was empty-handed. I don't know why, but I took it as a sign.
A sign from God.
The rest was history.
I relished every kill. There was not a single bit of sadness in my mind as they fell.
Only a single annoying thought in my head that I was committing a sin.
Now, I just want to be free from that. I want to be…no, I am…the Saintess. I'm pure…it doesn't matter how crude I act, or what anyone else thinks. Only my idea of purity matters.
I'm strong. I'm pure…and I don't need anything or anyone else.
So please…
DEVIL, WAKE UP, MY SERVANT
LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!!!
'I should have just let them kill me…'
-----
"You see, the Saintess is in an abnormal state…no pun intended. She's currently being sought after by an entity that's hoping to make her its' 'messenger'."
"Messenger?" I stared at him(?) incredulously.
"Yes. That's why it's latching onto her like so. She happens to be a very good candidate…there also lies the problem that she received the 'Divinity' ability, which only gave her further affinity with it."
I narrowed my gaze. This guy really knew a lot. A little too much, for someone I just met in this Regression line.
"...enough beating around the bush. Tell me what sort of thing is going after her."
The priestly dressed person sighed, shaking his head. "You don't strike me as a man of faith. I'm not sure that you'd listen."
"Try me."
I knew for sure, now, that this person had no idea who I was. If he knew what I'd seen by now, he'd understand that gods were just an extra stretch.
"Well…what's attempting to contact and synchronize with her is something that you'd best understand as…the idea of a god, left behind by her…'family'."
"Her family?" I looked over at the sleeping Alyssa, who fitfully twitched in her sleep, almost convulsing. "Tell me everything I need to know."
If Alyssa was indeed being affected by an 'idea' and not a 'real entity', then this would be tricky to permanently deal with.