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It was the time of year when nature's explosion of beauty only served to conceal the impending death. The hills were ablaze with color and the air was fresh and crisp, inviting people young and old alike out of doors to glory in its beauty and reap its bountiful harvest. Autumn had arrived, and with it came something sinnister beyond the imagination.






Somewhere between a forgotten past and a future only teasingly glimpsed, my story begins.

My name is Willow. Willow-Brook to be proper. My memories begin as that first breath of air filling my lungs involuntarily. The breath escaped as a scream which ripped even my own ears, and, judging from the look on his face, the ears of my sire. Filled with every facet of need and want and desire, I reached out for the sullen-faced man crouching at my side, and he did not resist me. Driven by instinct, my mouth went for his neck, and I was aware that my fingernails punctured his clothing, peircing the skin beneath. He did not flinch as my newly-grown fangs tore into the flesh of his throat, nor did he make any utterances of pain as I missed my intended mark and chewed his flesh to ribbons as I sought the thick vein that would supply me with the final step of my transformation.

He only closed his eyes in resignation.

My eyes bulged at the first rush of hot, thick blood pulsing into my mouth, and I struggled to swallow its volume. I felt a tremor pass through my body and would have given voice again but for the essence of my sire coursing down my throat with every beat of his heart. I was compelled to consume. And with every swallow the urge to scream faded, as did the blood-lust. Finally, satiated, I released him.

His eyes were opened then, and he tilted his face skyward, looking as though to invoke assistance from the heavens. He pressed his handkercheif against the wound I had made and turned his mournful eyes upon me.

I do not recall his voice, as he spoke within my mind using the voice of my own conscious. He gave me the tools I needed for my survival as a vampire, his words staying with me and moving me like instinct.

Per the instructions of my sire, I journeyed to Tyran's Cove, a realm with creatures such as I, among others.



VITAL STATISTICS

Known as: Willow-Brook

Affiliations: Former member of eK (Emerald Kingdom), zV, HG (House of Grim), Stryfe Family, LsT (the Order of Lust).
Current member of sX (Saints of Xtreme). Recent successor to the late sXAdamBlackMoonSx to gain ownership of the clan.

Personal: Married to zXGabriel_GD, widowed, no offspring.
Married to eK_Aramic, abandoned, one daughter (CriostalLear).
Married to HG_DEATH-WAR, divorced, no offspring.
Married to EntityNubus, divorced, no offspring.
Adopted (and was adopted by) RoyalAssassin, fighter extraordinaire and loving child.

Physical Appearance: A slender, athletic frame, Willow stands 5'7" and weighs 120 pounds. Her hair is long and a rich dark brunette, her eyes so dark a shade of brown as to appear black, and her complexion is a contrasting pale color.







I do not know what has become of my sire other than he still lives. I feel it within me just as sure as I feel my own soul living. But the man was lost to me that early evening along the path to Tyrant's Cove. After he directed me to the resident tavern of the Cove, he vanished into the dusk. Still yet, his words guide me throughout my eternity as a vampiress, but I have not ever lain eyes on my reluctant sire again.



It is a fine line between ecstacy and despair...

"No object is so beautiful that,
Under certain conditions,
It will not look ugly."
---Oscar Wilde