Background Knowledge Needed: Human anatomy is drastically changed depending on qualities a person is born with. It is rare. By drinking holy water, demon children are allowed to live normal lives while angelic children drink tainted water for affects unknown. After the dream I had a feeling that demonic water was illegal, banned, and it was used as a method of heightening ones abilities, but the risks of using it were high. Angelic beings are probably the only members who can take it without affect. (Now the real question is, are Demonic individuals simply normal people who drank too much demonic water, and demonic children are simply prone to the contagion without drinking it? Are angelic beings the only ones who can drink the evil fluid? Is this "demonic fluid" and "holy water" actually not supernatural at all, but simply substances that can alter a human's mind and body. I do not know.)

Setting/ Characters: My father and I walk into a house of a highly respected official (whether that be religious, personal, or political i do not know). The man was African American, age early to mid-40s. His daughter was cradled in his arms, half the body was perfectly fine, she was cute with long black hair brought into a weird braiding style. She could not have been more than 9 years old. The other half of her body was distorted, most notably the discolored, bony, enlarged hand with nails extruded from the ends. From the beginning of the finger to end of the nail probably reached 20-30 CM, and the hand could easily wrap around a small abdomen if the nails were used as well. Her body progressively gets more tainted as the story goes. The house seemed very upscale, but still not to much that it could be considered "high class". I remember knocking on the door and being greeted by the mother, who quickly rushed me through the large front room, down a hallway to the left (we are now going west) and going to the end of the hall. I cannot remember any physical attributes of the mother except for she was just under 2 meters tall. The room in which we spend all the time described here is the third door on the left side of that hallway. I vaguely remember gothic wall lamps positioned at about 2 meters off the floor (important, I do not know).

What happens: Father and I are called to this house (I do not remember the call, but I remember knowing I had been called to help the individuals within the house). We quickly bang on the door and being hurried in by the mother mentioned before, she rushes us through a poorly lit household. The house seems torn up as I walk down the hallways, claw marks possibly, but nothing to visibly scare me away. We see the respected man, cradling his prepubescent child in his lap, already distorted, and changing over from normal to demonic qualities. My father tells me to quickly get the blessed water, so I run and talk to the woman we met at the door. She shows me pitchers of holy water and demonic water, I take a drink of demonic water. My senses are immediately heightened. The room is no longer dark (nor is it green like night vision, it simply seems brighter [perhaps a huge dilation of the eyes]). I feel stronger and hear even the faintest of sounds. I rush back to the room with the holy water. The girl who was asleep prior, now is fully alert. She quietly speaks, asking if I could join her on the bed. For a second I think of possible outcomes, an image of me sitting too close results in my head be snapped from its body, sitting too far a stabbing to the stomach with one of the nails protruding out of her cold, bony hands. Not even a tinge of sadness, guilt, or sympathy is felt by me as I think these thoughts. I see her as something different completely, almost as if she were an enemy. I look up at my father and he gives me a slight nod, as if telling me it is okay. It is the first time in the story I even think of my father, and I feel that he is even more highly respected than the man next to him. He seemed to be a very special person; why, I do not know. As I inch closer to the bed in which all three are sitting on, I feel every nerve in my body itch to retreat, but I still move slowly forward. Just as these agonizing 8-10 steps are finished, I look to the girl and I think I see a small smirk on her face. I sit on the edge of the bed, between the girl cradled and my father, and look down at the holy water just in time to feel a small needle like object to my head. I slowly turn to face the girl and see that she has a single hand raised, fingers positioned just well enough that with a slight motion in a forward motion would result in not only my death, but the death of my father as well. Now remember, I had drank the demonic water prior to entering the room, thus fear was not involved in my mind at all. I simply begin calculating next moves as she speaks. Her mouth opens, but the sound is not the same as before. It appears she can change her voice from that of the demonic being and the child-like being she was before (which to me seemed strange, almost impossible at the time). She speaks of how we are her hostages, and just as she begins to list demands I rotate my head to the right, just as I move it left and ward. The needle like nail moves past my head in a single motion. I take the holy water and splash it against her chest and neck. She flails, knocking both her father and my father unconscious in an instant, just as I tackle her onto the floor. I begin to choke her, but am quickly overpowered and thrown to the wall with the now completely distorted, bony arm. The strength astounds me, I can't even imagine the amount of power it would take to throw someone 2.5 meters to the wall. The child like voice begs me to stop, and as I move to show I do not, she begins to laugh as the voice changes. With a deep, evil tongue she insults my very existance. She lunges at me with her hand and I somehow remain conscious enough to only slightly get slashed across the upper torso. She lands on my lap and I quickly grab her neck, hitting her head on the window ledge above continuously. The brain cracks and she continues to flail, all I see is a bloodied mass above my head, but I continue to hit her, until finally, she becomes motionless. I lay her back on the floor, making sure it is not only an act as I lower my hands onto either one of her wrist and exam her face. By this time only a small portion of the face and neckline have not been distorted to the bony figure, but she still appeared cute an innocent. Blood pools on the floor. She is unconscious and I speak a few words to my father and the father of the girl to see if they are awake. I look up to see they are fine and begin to ask what the next step is. 

Just as I awake I feel my hand slip and a tremendous pain come from my punctured abdomen. All five of the nails had punctured my body.