He wasn't very tall, he only looked tall. For his body was thin, gaunt, his complexion was peaky. There were dark circles under his eyes and his deep aquamarine navy blue eyes were completely empty. Soulless, he appeared soulless. It was his clothes and his lanky body that made this many standing at five feet and four inches, to look even taller. His long gray black trench coat fit on his body. He wore a white button down dress shirt with a thin red tie. Black slacks and black dress shoes. He carried around his chest a baby pouch where, what was presumably his child sat happily despite the expressionless man standing in front of the door. He was handsome with black hair and an a-line haircut, short in the back to the nape of the neck and long bangs in the front curtaining over his forehead.
You're asking for my history. Could I be frankly honest, I don't even quite remember much of it myself. Or do I remember. If I think to far back, it all becomes a muddle mess in the catacombs of my mind. An empty labyrinth, where voices hide and wait in shadows. This salad I had once was delicious. Though I digress as that wasn't exactly something concerning me. Where do I grow up? In Pittsburgh. I'm remember it being very dirty, very dirty.
I was a child of, well isn't that embarrassing and funny I've forgotten who my parents were. Their faces blend and melt like that of the acrylic paint on a canvas. I don't even remember my school very much any more either. What I do know, however, is when it all began.
When these voices, even if they aren't distinct and I cannot always understand what they request of me. I know when this all began. It was in High School, where the school whispers became more than whispers. Phantom voices echoing like ripples in the bottomless darkness. They appeared to me as shapeless black pools, ripples in a vast sea.
And they tell me these things aren't real. Despite my sickness, or that's what they call it and through the swarms of voices that plague my mind. I found a woman who I had thought had accepted this condition of mine. She and I had a child, I remember his name just not hers. Eden.
She stopped me from taking care of him, but not for long. She locked me away in a place that said they could cure me. Cure me of what? I do wonder. And now my story begins where her story ended. His face melted from the back of my memory, like that of paint melting off.
Cole Larson had always suffered from dementia or some form of insanity. All though he found it more normal than most. Though the voices inside his head and the delusions didn't seem to bother him as much as it bothered other people. He grew up in Pittsburgh in a poor part of town. Where dirt and ghetto roamed. His family took the five hour move from Pittsburgh to the next town over in order for his father to settle into a new work and his mother to get a job.
This is when the symptoms began to get worse for Cole, after a while he could barely distinguish between the voices in the back of his mind and the voices in the real world. He was labeled clinically insane a few times, but his parents hadn't really done much to help him. Bouncing from therapist and to different hospitals, due to his parents Cole found a nurse from one of the hospitals intriguing. He wouldn't have called it love as he wasn't sure of this concept.
He and her married and had a son named Eden, though his symptoms were getting worse. She sent him off to a mental ward to get him some help.
This is where the stories, I am unsure how he got out of the mental ward or even convinced anyone he could be brought into society.
When he left the mental ward, his wife Elana wasn't to happy to see him. Part of his delusions and his hallucinations has to due with some twisted form of paternal instinct. If he feels someone is threatening the bond of his child, even if he is somewhat unattached to the child, he will kill them. Elana was his first victim. Brutality murdered, but done with a lack of rage and with calm control.
Forgot to mention, he's now on a killing spree of other single parents, stealing baby food, diapers and toys for Eden. He generally doesn't kill unless he feels someone is being threatening.
"I think the greatest city in the world is London, because it's built on top of another city. A poem of history retold every time it evolves."
Last edited by Snicket; 03-04-2013 at 01:14 PM..