Descendant

Stay away from mages. It was a singular phrase my father had ingrained in me from the time of my birth. Sorry, Dad. I have a feeling that is going to be a problem. You have to understand… my life has been bland at best. Everything in my life, every single day, has been scripted, organized, and neat. Calm, cool, and collected. The problem? It wasn't real. I wasn't like the other witches in my father's coven. I had a chaotic storm growing inside of me, and the moment these mages stepped into the picture, it began to escape. The perfect image of my life was shattered.

My father is a serial killer. No big deal. I promise. Me? Upset? No. Never. In fact, it would be really easy to pretend that the man never existed in the first place… if it wasn't for the bodies. What bodies? Only about 200 of them. Like I said. No big deal. What is even worse? He has had a dual purpose for killing them, and it isn't just because he's a sadistic monster. No. It is far worse than that. And if all of this wasn't enough to deal with… I had eight men in my life. Yes. Eight.