Daniella Croft


Who Am I...

Daniella "Dani" R. Croft

Romantic Interests


Relationship Status


My Story Is...


The nightmare. . .
I was five years old when demons attacked my family. It was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen in my life, especially being that young. At that age, I couldn’t understand why and still can’t to this very day.
I had never felt so weak. . .
As they captured my parents, they screamed for me to run. So, I ran… I ran down in to the basement, where I thought I could be safe, and even hid under the stores in the far – dark corner, hoping they wouldn’t see me.
I was wrong. . . Just moments later, a taller hooded figure came down the stairs to find me crying, screaming.
I didn’t want to die. . .
The hooded figure dragged me out from under the stairs and kept me in a tight embrace to keep me from fighting, which didn’t stop me. It brought me back up those stairs and sat me in a chair. To keep me from going anywhere, it tied me there and then used its fingers to hold my eyes open to watch to what they were going to do to my parents. They forced me to watch my parents get torn to pieces. Their skin tearing like paper, their bones breaking like sticks, and their blood running on the floor like a river. It was so gruesome. . .
The hooded figure made me watch as they fed on my parents’ remains.
Why them. . .?
Then just moments later, a light shone through the windows and before I knew it, the glass around the house shattered as a being came forth whose wings casted a shadow on the walls. I didn’t see anything else but that smile. . . As the figure came forth, with a flick of his wrist, demons began to turn to ash but the hooded figure disappeared before it could be killed.
Then, the figure stepped to me, not only to untie me, but to take me in to his protective embrace; stroking my hair and hushing me, as I cried and cried hysterically from being so scared.
The figure assured me that everything would be okay.
As he continued to comfort me, I began to sink into a deep slumber. Before I knew it, I was asleep.
As I awoke from my slumber, I woke up lying in a hospital bed hooked up to a monitor to keep an eye on my heart rate. At a young age, anxiety and paranoia developed due what had happened. I noticed police officers and a case worker were by my bed and they took the time to question me.
Everytime I told them the details, they deemed me as crazy and had sent me to counseling. . . even put me on medication. They kept telling me that there was no such thing as monsters and often asked me about my so called guardian angel, but. . . I didn’t know the answer as to who he actually was or where he might be.
I was five. . . what would you expect from a child of that age?
I was deemed as an Orphan and put in a foster home.

Over the years. . . the nightmare continued.
During my years of school, I started to go to Church in order to try to gain some clarity to my busy mind by talking to the Lord, hoping he would hear me and give me some kind of light in such dark times. All I received were damn voices in my head that spoke of everything and everyone else, but the answers I was looking for. . .

Age 18-20: As I graduated from school, I began my own journey out in the real world but first, I had spent about two and a half years in college – shortly after highschool. Nothing specific, only for pre-requisits to get out of the way.
I also picked up a few other things along the way, during the couple of years; my friends and their fathers teaching me mechanics, so I didn’t have to waste so much money on taking my vehicle to a shop. My friend Elija and his father took me car shopping for my first vehicle; we went to an auction where they were auctioning off classics from the 60’s the late 70’s. My eyes fell upon a beautiful ’68 Chevorlet Camaro and then the ’79 next to it, but my friend’s father saw I laid my eyes upon the beautiful candy apple red ’68 and offered to help me buy it.
We spent two hours at that auction, but I got Beauty “Belle” – my 1968 Chevorlet Camaro; candy apple red with double racing stripes, tinted windows, chrome rims and bumpers… phew, what a beauty.
I offered to repay, but he wouldn’t accept it, but to think of it as an early birthday and graduation gift from a family I didn’t know I had.
As graduation approached, my best friend of almost three years and his family were slaughtered in their own car, just outside of the school. Their windows were shattered, their eyes were gouged out of their skulls, their faces torn, their chest broke open, their necks sliced. . . I couldn’t bare to see it, not again.
I was still given my diploma for completion of my pre-requisits, but that wasn’t enough to make me happy.
A week later, they held a close casket funeral for my best friend’s family. It was so gruesome, they wouldn’t let anyone look into their caskets. Instead, they just lowered them into their holes after a moments of silence and a few words to be said; I couldn’t say anything. . .
That’s when I realized, I was truly alone. . .
Many questions coursed through my mind as to why anyone or anything would do this? What made me so special? Why hurt the people I love in order to make me weak? What about my guardian angel? That’s when I realized that I couldn’t do anything about it, I was too weak. .

What I have discovered during my travels. . .
Age 21-24: I learned that I was adopted when I was six months old. My mother had died of Stage Three Leukemia during my birth, which resulted in an emergency C-section. My father? Well. . . he was never around and there was no record of him being deceased, so I was deemed abandoned. So, a young couple in their late 20’s to early 30’s took me under their wings to raise me as their own, also giving me their last name of Croft; their names being Elizabella and Michael Croft. I call them mom and dad, because that’s what they were to me up until the tragedy (back to chapter one).
After that, I left home to go on my little journey of self discovery. Still attending to Church where-ever I went, due to feeling lost and confused; I just needed someone to talk to, even if it couldn’t be with someone physically and if they couldn’t talk back – I just wanted someone to listen without fear of someone getting hurt. I questioned about what happened when I was five, I questioned as to why my best friend and his family had to die. Why was this demon aiming to hurt me so bad? As I sat a church, I felt a burning sensation on my wrists – thought I might of had an allergic reaction to someting and decided to ignore it. I left Church and went back to my motel room that I was staying in for the night.
The burning sensation intensified and I started to feel light headed. Next thing I knew, I woke up on the floor the next day with no memory of what happened the night before. As I walked to the bathroom, I noticed something black on my wrists and saw that they were… tattoos? No, I wasn’t drinking… So I decided to exmine the rest of my body to find another mark on the back of my neck that soon faded as soon I looked at it, but the ones on my wrists stayed. With a little bit of research, I found out they were just Celtic marks, but what for? There had to be more behind them. Then, I began to hear voices – like whispers and thought I was going crazy.
As the time passed, more things began to happen to me. Those whispers not only got louder, but I began to notice lights flickering and exploding around me. Those marks didn’t stop burning, though. . Was this a sign? I noticed my marks beginning to give off a strange glow to them. Then, the demons started coming and I did my damnest to fight them. In desperate times, that glow from my marks grew brighter and banished the demons from the area. I didn’t know how that was possible.
As I left there, more strange things began to happen.
People began to pop up with warnings for me about being hunted. I was confused. Why would I be hunted?
A couple people who knew of the supernatural, found me- started asking me some strange questions. Then, it got a little personal when they asked me about my family, but I explained it to them. I wasn’t what you call… a normal person, from what they could tell by the marks and how things happened in a flash. I thought they were crazy…They continued to ask me questions though, if anything else has happened to me that they should know of. . . I explained to them that I’ve been watched by demons and possibly others. . . They took that information into consideration and tried to help me as much as they could, despite of what they had goin’ on.


When everything changed. . .

I was hunted for years while I made my journey of self discovery. The hunt didn’t stop, they didn’t stop at nothing – they wanted me dead. As weak as I was before, I couldn’t do anything but run and use the knowledge I was given to ward them off for short periods of time. In time, they caught up to me. . . The Angels caught up to me and captured me – they tortured me to no end and practically left me to die slowly. I begged for them to just end it, as I sat there tied up – helpless. They questioned me about who I was. Did I know who I was? Or was I still completely oblivious to it? Did I know why they were after me? I answered them, telling them that I had a hunch but didn’t know for sure. . . All I heard was a chuckle from them and then the whole thing unfolded to me.
They told me what my bindings really were and what the purpose of them were. Telling me that I was no ordinary human, but a Nephilim. My father was an Archangel and I had potential, but they didn’t want to risk beings like myself roaming the earth. They were afraid. . . I saw it in their eyes, no matter how much they tried to hide it from me. One Angel crouched in front of me and just stared at me for a moment, telling me I have the same fire within my eyes as my father did. He paused for a moment as he was thinking of something before he said. . . Raphael. Something didn’t seem right with that; I questioned and then they explained that he kept me under the radar while I grew up to give me a normal life, which was rather noble considering of who he was.
They confirmd that they had put a hit on my mortal family’s head just to weaken me so they could eliminate me, the threat but clearly had failed when my father came in to redeem himself one last time and save me.
I remember closing my eyes and struggling to break free of those wires they thought would be smart to tie me with. Those lights flickered, though… whatever dwelled within me at the time, was shaking its shakles and bending the bars of its cage. Then, I felt something warm run over my hands and suddenly – those lights bursted and the room shook for a moment. I had broken two of three my bonds and brought forth a quarter of the Archangel half within me. . . With that being said, some of the angels dispersed with a flick of my wrist and then the rest disappeared – not taking their chance with me.

Was Raphael really my father? Or was it a mere cover up about something else?





The Darkness within. . . Coming soon. . .

My Appearance