My First Battle

The battle for my soul began before I was born.  A fight between two religions serving one God.
My family has always been Christian, more to the point, the most powerful Christians in the world, Catholics.  That is, until I was conceived.
My mother converted before I was born.  My grandmother insisted that I still be baptized as a baby, so as to save my soul.  My mother, strong in her new found faith, did not approve.
As I was growing in my mother’s womb my grandmother was growing more insistent.  She could sense my powers and knew I had inherited her bloodline.
My grandmother, in addition to being a devout Catholic, also came from an ancient Aztec bloodline.  This bloodline descended from a very powerful priestess that only showed in a select few.  Those who gained this bloodline were more sensitive to the supernatural and spirit world.  Mexican voodoo magic was sometimes practiced and psychic visions foretold things to come.
My grandmother had seen that I would be battling demons attempting to steal my soul and that I would lose this battle.  These battles would become real life battles, leaving me wounded and scared.
Enough was enough, I was ready to make my jail break.  Out I came and the trouble was about to begin.  While my mother was recovering in a deep slumber my father handed me off to my grandmother.  Time was short, I needed to have protections put in place right away and my grandmother was determined to save my condemned soul.
Everything had already been arranged.  There was nothing normal about this baptism.  The catholic priest also had Aztec roots and it wasn’t hard for my grandmother to convince him to undertake this task.
There was a mixture of a baptism, a voodoo soul cleansing, and an exorcism.  When the blessings were bestowed and the wards set in place, my name was uttered out loud for the first time.
That, however, triggered the very first battle I would fight.
A bright white light began to glow from my little body as the entire room grew dark.  The only light visible was my own and it was fading fast.  One demon sprang forth from the shadows then another, finally a third surrounded me.
My grandmother and the priest could no longer hold me as I was yanked away, defenseless, heading deeper into the shadows.  My light finally faded, plunging the room into complete darkness.  Time seemed to stop before a blinding light burst out of me.
All in the room where blinded, including the demons.  My name sake came to protect.  The demons dropped me and ran away in fear.  With the demons gone the room went back to normal.  My protector kneeled down to where I was on the floor and smiled.  He picked me up and we both disappeared.
I was back in the hospital, in my bed.  He stood over me, his smile fading as he prepared to leave me.  My name is Michael Angel, after the archangel.  He touched my forehead, giving me back a small amount of light, before vanishing from my life forever.  My name sake, my protector had forsaken me.
On my seventh birthday the light Michael left me vanished.  As it disappeared my world was plunged into darkness, just as it had on the day of my birth.  A flash of bright light blinded me, then I was able to see him standing in front of me.
“The protection I afforded you is over.  It is time for you to fight.  You had protection but since your baptism was a complete blasphemy no Angel will ever come to your aid.  Your soul is marked and tainted.  You were born into Hell and there you will return, when, will be up to you.  The demons are coming for your soul but you can hurt them just as they can hurt you.  Good luck child.”
With that he faded away, the room returning to normal.  I was cold and alone, or so I thought I was as I heard a dark voice whispering in my ear, “Remember me?”