Prometheus
Legacy Name: Prometheus

~ Hell

~ Credits

Profile by Snape
Lyrics by Trivium
Poem excerpt:
Oscar Wilde - A Ballad Of Reading Gaol

~ Earth

Being born into a wealthy family William O'Hara's life couldn't have started much more promising. Especially his mother adored him, calling him her "little prince" and making sure that he never lacked anything. At the age of ten he was able to attend a popular residential school that he left with very good grades, later he studied classic literature in Dublin. During his time at the university William also started to write himself, mostly poems but also short-stories and dialogues. His great success however he finally had with a novel, more precisely with a horror story named "Prometheus" in which a mad self-proclaimed scientist experimented on his adopted son. This scary but, according to the critics, wonderfully written novel now pushed him into the limelight what was both a blessing and a curse.

As it often goes William wasn't satisfied enough with his situation short after and so he yearned for more - more adoration, more parties and of course more money. Like a machine he wrote new novels and poems as if it was the only thing that mattered in a man's life. There were times where he spent whole days at home in his house that his parents bought for him, just sitting at his desk and waiting for a good idea. By the advice of a famous colleague he later even began to take a special tincture that was said to stimulate one's creativity, but whatever he tried it never lead him to another success. Slowly but surely he got pushed aside, parties took place without him, others were admired for their publications now and certain "friends" suddenly didn't even know his name anymore - he was on his way to become a nobody again.

Instead of just accepting his fate by searching a job in a library for example William decided to go for broke. He kept writing, using the rest of his money as well as some financial help from his parents to stay alive and to buy the daily dose of his "creativity tincture" that more and more began to have negative effects on both, his body and his character. This time however he only spent daytime at home, whereas the evenings and nights were reserved solely for his personal amusement. What exactly he did during these nights nobody could say for certain, but when he began to socialize again he wasn't alone anymore but accompanied by a blind man named Rabal, who was locally infamous for being a beggar and thief. Although their social backgrounds were so different the two of them quickly became inseparable. Only a few weeks later Rabal even moved in with William and from this day one he followed him everywhere like a shadow.

Like that life went on for about half a year until that fateful day in November where his parents, who intended to visit William, found his house being abandoned. The only hint regarding their sons' destination was a short note saying that he'd head off to a far-away place now where no one could follow him. For his parents and the called police it was just obvious - William O'Hara had either been murdered, most probably by that low-life Rabal who had of course vanished as well, or had committed suicide in order to flee from his miserable life as a failed author. After a few days of rather desultory investigation the case was closed and quickly forgotten even though a corpse was never found.

Two years later his father, finally able to handle the situation, coincidentally found a locked box hidden under the plank flooring of his sons' workroom while he was liquidating the household - when he opened the box there was a manuscript inside, the continuation of William O'Hara's one and only success. After a few days of struggling his parents decided to have it published, being sure that this would in accordance with the wishes of their son as well. "Prometheus's Escape", as the novel was called, became a bestseller, even out-classing its prequel with ease; unfortunately was, according to the press, only that the author of this brilliant piece of horror literature wasn't able to celebrate his late victory...