Name: Keres Persephone
Age: 20 (looks) 500 (actual)
Family: Orphan
Species: Turned Vampire
Rank: Fledgling
Faceclaim: Analeigh Tipton

Loyal | Witty | Determined
Childlike | Fearful | Anxious

Date: Friday, May 15, 1517

A little girl’s scream broke through the air along side with her mother’s. A new baby girl was brought into this world kicking and screaming. Her hair placed on her head would be a dark black, her eyes a pale green. Her face bright pink as she whailed. Her mother sat by herself, scooping the newborn into her arms. Tears streaming down the young woman’s face. “By the old gods and new. Protect my daughter...Persephone” The young mother granted the girl the name of a greek goddess. Hoping Persephone would watch over the young girl.

The mother cleaned her new born. Wrapping her in a lovely pale off white blanket. The mother stumbling out into the street’s pale as ever. Her life force draining out of her body. Tired, weak. The young woman ran to the old temple of Persephone which now laid in ruins almost. She placed her young baby girl onto the steps, brushing Persephone’s hair around. The mother looked down at the young child. “Please...grow and love life, be kind to others and above all. Remember your name” She kissed the child’s forehead and rushed away. Persephone’s new lungs cried out with a feeling of pain.

A man followed out of the shadows. His hair was pure white, black markings laced up his arm’s and his face. His eyes locked onto the child, his footsteps heavy as he walked toward her. Drawing a deep breath he smiled. A fresh meal, a new meal. As his eyes glanced down at the new child his mind changed...Not a meal, no...A servant, a play toy. He lifted the child up in his arm’s and strolled away into the dark of the night.

Keres...Her name was Keres from this day forward…

Date: Monday, August 17. 1523

Her father sat upon his chair, the one she was not aloud to touch. Her chair was a pillow at the base of his own. His smile use to be so soft and nice to her, but lately it has twisted to scouls and snaps. His temper ran short with her now. He was not letting her play piano anymore, her toy’s had all been taken away and she was no longer aloud to even touch him. His hands would rain down on her like furry. Her room was replaced with a smaller one. One no bigger than a broom closet. No toy’s. No Piano...no bed. Soon, she was tied down into a chair. Her arms strapped down, her legs as well and her forehead held a strap on it fastening it to the chair. He would fill a syringe with Daystar in liquid form. Being young and in her human form it simply did nothing. No reaction. Just tears of a young child unaware as to why her father was doing such things to her. Her mind ran with questions as she trashed around screaming to be let go. Pleads of a young child didn’t sway her father’s actions. If anything it forced him into a state of angry and caused her to suffer more from brutal beatings.

Date: Thursday, October 25, 1537

Age 20, She sat alone in her cell of a room. Her bed made of nothing but sheets and a rather scratchy blanket. Anxious for when her capture would open the door. She wanted to make a deal. Promising she would be a good girl. She would help him with what he needed. She waited for what seemed like days, reciting over and over her speech. Soon the door opened. Leaving her capture standing in its shadows. “Keres. Stand” His voice firm. She followed his orders. “Sir….Father...I have a proposition for you” Her language that of greek. “I would like to serve you. Do whatever you wish! Be able to help you, please, stop this and give me….” Before she could finish his hand came down on her face with a loud ‘smack’. Her hand rushing to the side of her face as blood rushed to her cheek. “Did I say you could speak child!” He hissed at her. Ripping her head up he grasped onto her chin. “You wish to serve me? Do as I say...For now and eternity?” He smirked as he glared down into her deep brown eyes. “Yes sir” She said muddled. His eyes flared as he grinned. Her slowly turned her head to reveal her neck. He brought her closer, wrapping his other arm around her waist. Pushing her body against his. Slowly he licked her neck. Her eyes closed as a small tear drops. ‘Please….no’ was all she thought before his sharp teeth dug into her neck. She let out a small gasp and tried to push his away in a failed attempt.

Her body soon started to feel limp. Her strength was gone. Her vision starting to fade. Her body weight starting to drape over his. Her slowly let go of his grasp on her neck. Slight blood ran down her neck as he licked it lightly. His eyes glancing over her’s as he dropped her to the ground with a hard thump. Her body felt nothing though it was sure to leave a large bruise on her side. She groaned as she tried to roll away from him. He looked down at her with some pitty in his eyes but it soon vanished. He walked toward the door. “We shall see if you last the morning” He said solemnly dropping two packs of blood on the ground. He closed the door locking it behind him. That night her body would twist and turn, she had never faced any pain like this. Her body turning it’s back on her soul. Her eyes shaking with pain and her vocal cords soon raw from screams.

he needed a guinea pig and a person to torment for fun it seemed. She gave up on her hope that day. Letting it drain out of her just like her soul had. Since then he has tormented her with new things. Like daystar in liquid form, draining it into her system day after day. Her skin boiled inside her veins. Her voice creamed out day after day as it flowed into her system. He would drag sharpe Hawthorn on her skin, causing it to split open and bleed. Her torment chair that held straps to keep her in place was occasionally pushed half way into the sunlight. Causing her hands, feet and legs to burn over and over. Her day’s blurred between sleepless days and nights. Dreams filled with screams and her time awake was no different. Reality and dreams became one. Her body constantly in a coma like state.

Date: Wednesday, December 23, 1719

Her system had been broken down over and over. Years of torture had caused her scream to become silent. Her tears no longer fell. This mans face, her father, had become that of a demon. Her trust broken into pieces. Her day’s and night's still are one. Her cell was lined outside with Hawthorn causing her to sit in the center. Holding her legs looking up at the ceiling. Her name… her name.. Was like poison on her tongue. She hated it. She hated the foul taste it brought.

Her cell door opened. “It’s time again Keres.” His voice deep yet held a hit of a snicker. His enjoyment was not hidden. She stood up on shaky legs. One of the few times she could actually stand. Her feet took slow steps as she tried to drag herself out of the cage. Her eyes glanced around the area. Her senses tingled as she tried to fix her unsteady vision. Her eyes locked on the stick in his hand. Her body jerked forward, as if it was controlling it itself. Her hands grabbed onto the stick of hawthorn and it stung her palms. Her hands almost no longer felt the pain. Her eyes unsteady themselves as the pain laced up her hands into her chest. She swung as hard as she could trying to hit him. He simply stepped out of the way and kicked her down. “Foolish girl” Her vision tunneled. Leaving her laying on the ground watching him walk away, dropping a bag of blood in his place. Her hand shakily reached for it. Bringing it to her mouth. Ripping into it like a feral cat.

Date: Tuesday, May 2, 2017

She layed there. Her body giving up. She felt it finally. Her soul letting go, slipping slowly. She wished for the sun chair again, for next time she would use all her strength to throw herself into it. Hoping that would end these games of his. Her eyes traced the lines on the floor, her face pressed against it. Her thin body curled up as if to keep herself warm, dried blood laced the floor around her. Her eyes tracing lines, over and over. She reached under her so called “bed” of ripped sheets and pulled out a stem of hawthorn wrapped up. She slowly unwrapped it, never lifting her head. Sliding it over in front of her she wondered what would happen if she stabbed herself? Could see do it….For the first time in a hundred years a tear slipped down her cheek hitting the cold floor. She didn't care. She was done.

The door slammed open as she forced herself up and against the wall. In doing so the Hawthron stick stabbed into her neck, she believe it was her “father”. Not wanting to face him again she tried to end it. Though to her disbelief a different man stood there. Leaving her eyes wide and gasping for breath. Her hand flying to her neck as she tried to stop the blood. Toppling to her knees her vision began to tunnel. Her voice soft but gargled with blood. “Ο βασιλιάς Άδης. Έχετε έρθει ... τελικά”(King Hades. You have come...finally.) Her eyes watched as he slowly walked up to her. He was beautiful, she thought. Like hades's should be, like an angel...No...Not an angel...A vengeful soul. Her king had come for her...just not the one she hoped for.