Also, an update:
A little while ago, Archangel Raziel told me not to pursue further contact with being. I had taken his advice for the most part.
A few minutes ago, while I was getting ready for bed, one of my personal belongings was smacked off of my dresser. At first I thought it was poltergeist activity, or a ghost throwing a tantrum. I chided that if it kept up this behavior, I was going to banish it and that it could send me a message telepathically instead of knocking my stuff around (It’s my house, and I ain’t havin’ that shit).
After I cleaned up, the air around me suddenly grew hot and I thought I saw shadows flickering in my vision. At first, I thought I had overstepped my bounds with my words and tone of voice.
But it turned out not to be the case; and it wasn’t even a ghost.
However, it wasn’t the being I encountered. The energy felt a little similar, but ultimately they different people. This new being introduced itself as a messenger and servant of the one that’s been harassing me for five years. He told me that his master was already coming for me (the messenger admitted he wasn’t given specifics), and that it would be a matter of days before he “takes me home” and how excited he is to meet me.
He also said something that disturbed me: that my daydreams weren’t mere daydreams. You see, I have a very active mind, and tend to daydream a lot. Sometimes they start feeling too real. Recently, it had been of me being taken to some other dimension where I would be subjected to genetic alterations and sink-or-swim tests that would force me to adapt so I could survive them. I wasn’t alone either; others were with me too. We were collectively referred to as a “brood”; children of demonic descent gathered for experimentation and preparation for some unknown calamity. We weren’t the first brood, and we wouldn’t be the last. But we were constantly made to fight one another; we could only rely on ourselves to live. But I saw myself standing among them as the only survivor… to which I was then stripped of my memories of what happened there, as a means to see how I would adapt without said memories.
I told the messenger to tell his master that I wasn’t his puppet. He laughed and retorted with “Your spirit is what he loves most about you.”
After telling me to take care, he left.
…I think I’m going need larger protections for this one.