Information

Macabre_517 has a minion!

Rave'd the Infested Skull

Macabre_517
Legacy Name: Macabre_517

The

Glade Harvester
Owner:

Classy

Age: 18 years, 6 days

Born: April 27th, 2006

Adopted: 18 years, 6 days ago (Legacy)

Adopted: April 27th, 2006 (Legacy)

Statistics

Level: 2
Strength: 8
Defense: 7
Speed: 5
Health: 10
HP: 10/10
Intelligence: 1
Books Read: 0
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Unemployed

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Excuse me while I steal your soul...

^{Profile image is love from Asylum}

sychobuny

... and more than likely everything else, too.

She shoved her elbow into the temple of someone in front of her - a shrill voice cried out in pain, but none of them stopped moving. She stepped over someone who was laying on the ground, laughing like a drunken hyena, and moved onto the edge of the group of glowstick and binkie-clad bodies. She was covered in a mixture of her own sweat and skin, and probably a hundred or so others, and the sticky slickness just sort of felt comfortable to her. Macabre headed over to the water bottles, grabbed one, opened it, and put it to her lips just as someone came out of nowhere and hip-checked her.

"YOU BASTARD -" she choked out, half-laughing, half-spitting. "You're washing all the dirty off."

Macabre was never necessarilly a good child -- she was often rough-housing, drinking, breaking things or stealing. It was in her nature to constantly be in trouble for anything she could possibly be in trouble for. And, though she is no longer a child, in many aspects that same nature remains ingrained on her ridiculously pink skull.

When she was young - 19 or so - she passed out at a house party and wound up missing. When she came to she was chained to a bed, in the dark, somewhere by the ocean. The room was freezing, and everything sounded as if a radio had been set to the wrong frequency. Within moments, however, everything seemed so loud Macabre felt as if her bones were breaking, one by one. When she started screaming she was met by the fact that she was unable to. She was quietly reassured by a low, strong voice, "You're fine, be quiet."

Everything was masked in silence, despite the fact that, to her, the noises were still bone-shatteringly loud. She lay there in agony for what felt like days, until eventually the sound subsided, and she was finally able to attempt to focus on where she was.

The entire room was still dark, though, without reason, much warmer. The voice echoed again, "Sleep." and so she did.

When she woke much later the room was lit by a hanging chandelier of lit candles, her arms and legs had been freed, and there was no longer any pain. She sat up, rubbed her head, and realized, as the sheet fell away from her, she had been undressed. She sat rigid, her hands tense and clawing aimlessly at the bed she rested on. She felt no difference, except, perhaps, much better than she though she would feel. The silence was then broken by the sound of a sliding lock loudly shifting out of place. A large door opened beside her. She grabbed the sheet again, covering herself and gasping, only to be met by a tall, thin, pale man in dressy black pants and a white, untucked shirt. He carried with him a long dress which he promptly handed to her and left.

Again the voice came, "Put it on."

The mans' name was Matthius, the dress was now hers, all of this which he explained, in full detail, when she had finished dressing. "You're mine, now." he said, his voice monotone, "You're bound to me until I perish, which means, until I die, you've no choice but to follow my orders." This explained nothing to her.

The ever-rebellious and non-compliant Macabre only harped out a single question: "What the hell are you talking about?"

Matthius was a vampire, a very old one. He told Macabre what that meant, for her, for him, for the both of them. She had to follow his orders, she had absolutely no choice otherwise, but he also had the responsibility and obligation to take care of her as she saw fit.

This 'obligation' didn't last too long, partly due to the fact that, as any young vampire would do, Macabre went literally insane as soon as she was re-introduced to society. For a long time there was a series of unexplained missing persons in various areas of the country. Matthius was murdered by his own fledgling on account of his inability to control her.

That, in the end, was her second demise. Her inability to control herself led her to being killed only a year or so later. She, however, was one of the rare anomalies in which didn't burst into ash when they were taken down - instead, her body remained intact. Only in three other cases had this happened, and in each prior case the carrier the body was on went missing - at sea, in air, and on land. Though it was futile, they attempted to send her body out for research as they had the other three. Just as the others, her vessel vanished at sea.

Macabre washed up onto a foreign land on a massive chunk of ice. She was not cold, and though she had no direction, her feet took her. She wound up in a meadow amiss the icebergs, with a waterfall flowing down - and a man sitting on the edge of a pool of water, waiting.

Macabre, at this point, grumbled. "Welcome to strike three, then?" The man nodded, "Indeed."

He introduced himself as Mailyn - otherwise known as death - and he informed her to introduce herself as "Macabre, otherwise known as death". When she gave him a strange look he only smiled.

"Welcome to the world of reaping."

I am Macabre. My friends and foes describe me fondly as a vampire, a raver, a reaper, a psychoanalytical liar, a kleptomaniac and a damn good pastry chef.
I have boobs and I have no interest in your boobs or your brothers, either. I like birds, and I like to drive fast.
I am intolerant of stupidity. Chances are if you're a moron when you're near me, you're going to get punched in the face. I am a well-known bully and I'm here to steal your soul.