Sins of the Father

[Requiem of Insanity]

(Solo)

The salty sea air nipped at the sailors noses, the clouds a brilliant white as the spring day had little issues with being a beautiful day. The seamen all admired the calmness of the great vastness, the gentle breeze not in any way cold or uninviting. The hustle and bustle of activity was seemingly gone from the serenity the day allowed and to the world it was like being literally stuck in the ocean of calm.

The ship was a simple passengers sailing barge, just shy of a luxury galleon. Two proud masts stood erect at the front and center of the boat, it's wood made from fine timber and sculpted it would seem, by a perfectionist. Deckhands kept the sea vessel clean at all times and the captains deck was located very prominently at the rear of the ship on the top deck.

Forty passengers walked around the ship, taking the day as an omen of good tidings and talked about what they would do when they got to port, laughing and talking merrily. The gaming halls were cramped with activity, and the bar re-opened after the disgusting dry spell that had happened. The world it seemed took that passenger boat and made it the beacon of hope and hospitality. It seemed there could be no greater place to be calm and at peace with ones self.

By that very nature Cassandra was in hell. She paced her cabin like a savage animal, waiting for any moment to lunge for the kill that would set her free. It wasn't helping the trip had a rough dry spell that took out the better part of a week. Cabin fever was what most people told her plauged her, and she made polite conversation to learn about Cabin Fever. After she learned what it was she easily dismissed it in her mind as people being idiotic and blind to the waiting horror she wished to unleash. Never-the-less she kept her cool. Her urges were not unchecked yet, and she kept a firm grip. To keep her company she remembered when she went four weeks without killing a single soul. This was only two and she knew with the wind picking up she would be at port very shortly. What bothered her was she was helpless on this vessel. She couldn't escape the wooded prison that floated on the sea. That's what aggravated her the most about all this.

Sighing realizing all she would do was put a hole in the rug with the wake of her pacing she sat upon her chair she was accommodated with and began to look out into the ocean. I'm a wreck father... she said sliding deeper into her chair.

Her mind began to fade away as she remembered her childhood, a small dead animal in a tall man's arms. He was about six feet high, a very lithe man with well toned body. He had black hair and hazel eyes that looked to a very childlike person of Cassandra, a tiny dress upon her with frills all dirtied up and ruined.

"Cassandra...that was completely unacceptable." the voice said distantly. "You just took a life..." Cassandra's child like psyche fought back, running forward and slamming two tiny fists on the man's knees.

"I didn't do anything wrong, who cares anyway, it's just a dumb cat!" The man gripped her arms dropping the cat's lifeless form onto the ground, and lifted her up so she dangled before him. As she screamed and hollered she eventually got worn out and looked at the eyes that held her. "I didn't think...it would matter..."

"All life is precious. Just because an animal can't talk doesn't mean it can't feel darling." The man said gently lowering her to the ground. Cassandra rubbed her tiny arms and glared back at her father before she sighed leaning on him. "Why else did you hurt it?" Cassandra let the question linger on her mind as she thought about it, but her body felt a jolt of surprise and she snapped back into reality. She was in her room again, the rug still there, and her bed still made in the corner. The only difference was the tapping on the wood door as a voice kept telling her something.

"What?" She shouted in anger as she got up out of the chair, it creaking as she did so. She stretched her body out and heard a few pops around her neck and she began to rotate her shoulders to find anything else.

"We are hitting port within an hour, please be ready to leave immediately upon arrival." The voice said in a monotonous way, as if he had said this over an over again. His foot steps trailed away, quickly so no words of thanks could be heard if they were uttered, but Cassandra wouldn't thank him. He was lucky she figured. The sail hand was able to live a life without urges and be free to do as he wanted. She envied him for that freedom, but never thought once about what it would be like for herself. She was of purpose, and of reason in this world.

Packing her belongings she began the long drawn out process of beginning to create a new identity for herself, a back story to tell people who inquired in the new place she was going. She created her lie and smiled. Daddy would be so proud... she thought.

[Requiem of Insanity]

As the boat docked at last with the port, the busy hub began to explode with action. Sailors began to lower walking planks, drop off supplies. Port masters ran to collect their fees as the people left their boat smiling and talking freely. Cassandra only smiled, having just one lonely man next to her. He was only two inches taller than she, and his frame was very boringly average with no tone to it all. He wore a commoners clothes, a bit higher class than most but still appallingly common. And what made her nearly want to rip her own head off was he was trying to talk but failing. Just as she was about to punch him in the nose for crowding her he actually said words.

"So, I saw you around the boat, but never introduced myself. Connor is my name." he said flashing a smile as he moved within her personal space offering his hand to her. Ugh...the mating rituals...how mind boggling boring.

"Ah, Elizabeth." She said smiling brightly taking his hand gently and shaking it. "Forgive me for not mingling upon the boat but I had a small bout of sea sickness." she laughed politely. As in leave me the hell alone.

"Ya, the sea can be a big jerk like that." He laughed with her letting those idiotic words trail off as even he began to realize they were not the wisest choice. Cassandra just laughed with him some more, and waited until just the right moment to bat her eyes and look away quickly. I'm hungry. She thought tiredly. Feed me fool.

The man did a stretch of some kind, obviously nervous he was actually talking to this woman and he began to excreat the male hormone of false confidence and arrogance. He moved ahead of her just a few steps and at the bottom of the plank offered her his hand to lead her gently down. Eww! That's your left hand, I know what's that for! She smiled again, batting her eyes and mumbling soft kind words about gentlemen and chivalry as she took his hand and let him walk her down the frightening half an inch of wood plank to wood dock.

"You are so kind and generous good sir, I am a loss for words at your chivalry that nobody seems to have these days. Come on you giant imbecile, I want some food! Conner smiled to her, his cheeks blushing at the kind words she spoke to him. He even had the sense to walk a bit taller with her as he straightened his back. He offered her his elbow to walk with her, and Cassandra wanted to kill him then and there. Push your luck much? She took his elbow into her hand and smiled to him in a dreamy way. Her stomach growled loudly and she laughed in a very nervous way.

"Oh my. It seems I am a wee bit hungry." She lied. She was starving. Catch a hint buddy. Conner looked to her laughing with her as he looked around the port. At last he seemed settled upon something that would work and turned her forcefully with him towards the place.

"Let me have the honor of fixing that problem for you." He said as she looked over to what he could be thinking of taking her. All her eyes could see was a cheap, run down fish and chips joint where even the wood looked like it wanted to die. There were not very many people at the establishment and it seemed the seagulls refused to fly near by the restaurant. Her smile began to falter as she looked at the dump he was taking her to, and she wanted to cry on the inside. Oh dear gods I know to be careful what I wish for now. As they approached the shack a familiar stink of rotting meat and decay filled her lungs and she nearly coughed. A waiter walked up, a tall large and muscular man with tattoos all along his arms looked at the two with disgust. His body was just gigantic and he easily was six foot seven or taller.

"What do you want?" He barked out. A breath mint comes to mind you oaf. She hid behind the man in mock fear as she let her nostrils take in the air again. The smell hit her like a stale fish and she grew excited. Conner was bumbling about two specials as he led her to a table. Conner began to talk about his life as a traveler and other nonsense no sane person would have any care for once so ever about and she normally would be dulled to a breaking point where she would come up with some random excuse to leave. Yet the stench let her stay with total enthusiasm as she looked around the shop. Red paint chips spread across the walls as the fan was missing a fin and thus couldn't rotate properly. The ocean waves smashed up against the rocks in a loud thunderous way, drowning out thankfully all of Conner's wasted words. The food came with the check in a short amount of time, and the only thing Cassandra ate was the chips, the fish obviously bad. Conner ate the whole meal still talking with his mouth full of food. Is this how all men act? No. The good ones kill people that's all. She concluded.

After he paid for the meal Conner began to make advances to her, and she took the opportunity with all the control she could as his left hand brushed around the curves of her butt. She let it slide this one time and when they reached the hostel they walked to the counter together and she smiled at the obviously bored clerk. The clerk grabbed a single room key after getting the proper papers signed by Conner and he led her up to the room using the pair of creaky footsteps. They reached a long hallway with windows all along her left side, the moonlight passing into the corridor giving enough light to see the faint green of the long ornate rug of Fallien descent. The entire time Conner stop flashing her that stupid grin one does when they think they are about to get a night of passion.

When she was at the door she made her move, swiftly kicking inwards so she had her back pressed against the wooden frame. "I thank you for everything, but the night has been long and I am weary. Thank you for purchasing me this room, it does mean a lot." She gave a cute smile, ripping the keys out of his hand and turning abruptly on her heel to unlock the door and enter. She passed him one threatening glare as she slammed the door shut and locked it walking to the candle table feeling for the matches and lighting them close to the wicker tops so she could see. As the first candle lit she took it over to the oil lantern and lit it with the candle and her world became illuminated. "Let there be light." She breathed happily.

Tonight was not a night for sleeping. That could be done later in the daytime. She had enough money to let her stay in the room for a week without work, but she knew she had to at least look for a simple gig to not dip to deep into her savings. But for now she felt her body tremble with excitement as she went to the small window in her room. She looked out to the port and smiled. Grabbing her note pad out of her sack of belongings she wrote in clear letters upon the top.

Kill 45 as she let her eyes sink into her head as she clearly could remember the smell of decaying flesh. Not fish, though easily capable of throwing those who weren't looking for it off track. She smiled as she opened her eyes again. I'm onto you... She thought devilishly smiling to the port.

[Requiem of Insanity]

Sunny days are like a joyous festival of life and carefree spirits roaming around. The laughter of children and the commotion of a busy trade area only intesify the festival aspect. On sunny days only the imagination could put an end to the infinite possibilities of what one can accomplish in the day. The soft spring wind was of no bother and welcomed with open arms as the kids played with their kites in the farther ends of the town near the forests.

Cassandra sipped a glass of ice tea and gently let it rest on her wire mesh table as she looked to the port again. Her note pad had a few observations about angles and the rhythm of the days activities, but for the most part was empty. She didn't find anything out of the ordinary that led her to believe her hunches earlier. Yet her father was a journalist, and so she learned how to be thorough through his teachings. Each time she couldn't find something to write she just studied the area and created descriptions of what the sailors would do, and started to catalog patterns from their activity. As she finished another full page about the rhythm of the working environment she felt a very cold presence walk up to her from behind. Using quick reflexes she tried to hide the paper work but was unable to as the worst person she wanted to spend a day with grabbed the papers and began to read them.

"Every fifteen minutes the sailors grab more rope to lift the freight they just finished packing on the northern quadrant." Conner said smoothly as he tossed the book back to her. Every fifteen minutes the gods allow you to breath is a mystery. She smiled in a sarcastic manner playfully taking the book and putting it into her bag. "What was all that for? You some spy or something?" He asked intently. No, not a spy, just a serial killer. She giggled and shook her head.

"No, I'm just trying to write a play, and I want descriptions of every day activities to make my stories really...look realistic." She lingered looking for the correct words for her lie. "It's always been a passion to write theater." She said batting her eyes in embarrassment. Conner let his hand touch hers as he smiled to her flashing each tooth. oh the chips are starting to come up again. she held her stomach to keep her bile in check.

"Do not be embarrassed to strive for the stars, my dear." He said full of life getting up and grabbing her. Forceful just a bit? she thought in a hostile manner. "Come with me, and let us enjoy the day together!" Cassandra did her best to not her emotions get the better of her as she flashed a wild smile running with him to the forest. I'm thinking it's impossible to enjoy anything with you.

"Why not?" She responded full of life as she ran with him. The forest was full of simple pine trees and a few oak trees, and he didn't have her stray to far with him into the woods. The surrounding area was a simple clearing with one over turned log and an area used for camp fires. A children's hollow of some sort no doubt. A few woodland creatures danced around playfully and as Conner ran her into the middle of the clearing he purposely tripped trying to take her down with him so she would fall to his chest. Cassandra easily braced her foot and his hand slipped out of hers as his body hit the ground hard. "Are you okay?" Please be dead. "I'd hate if anything happened to you." It'd be like my birthday coming early.

Connor merely laughed her off as he sat up, the red blush of embarrassment covering his cheeks. He patted the ground for her to sit next to him, but instead she just sat across from him in the grove of tall grass. Her hand darted around waving in between the tall whiskers of the earth and she found her time being utterly wasted when she'd rather be off doing the hunt. The man scooted his entire body over to her, and he began to talk again about the day and how the sun wasn't as radiant as she was. Poetry? No. Poetry makes people feel. This just wants to make me throw up. She smiled to him. Then again, I guess I am feeling something so I guess its poetry.

"Elizabeth?" He asked, and suddenly her little world came screeching to a halt as her hazel eyes locked onto his. "I asked if you were feeling well? I heard you mumbling and you said something about throwing up." He made his motion to help her, but she stood stretching very suddenly. He heard her thoughts. That's not good. I'm starting to lose my grip because of this idiot. I need to refocus. She let her body drift to the town again as she let her face look flustered. She placed a hand upon her forehead as if in mild distress with a longing look in her eyes.

"To be honest, Connor, I didn't sleep well for I had an upset stomach all night. I sadly should probably go back to the hostel and just get some rest." Connor nodded getting up and walking towards her offering his hand to help her. She politely declined it and he retracted his hand, somewhat hurt by her actions as he walked next to her. As much as she hated him, she couldn't just kill him in the open like this. She had been trained to hide her kills, and this wasn't the place to do them. As the two walked in silence towards the hostel he began the awkward phase of trying to say something and then deciding not to. The irritation started to build up again, but he stepped closer to her and began to talk again.

"If you feel well enough, perhaps we can dine again tonight?" Only if you go fuck yourself first. She thought about it. Or perhaps maybe dinner wouldn't be such a bad idea. He looked at her with desperation as she realized he was feeling their relationship falling apart. She smiled to him brightly, and nodded.

"I can see no harm in that." So long as I avoid the special. Connor suddenly stood taller and prouder and Cassandra wanted to slap herself in the face at such broad displays of idiocy. He walked her to the front of the white hostel doors and lifted both her hands to his chest. I hate mating rituals. she thought angrily. She looked away as if flustered by his actions.

"Until tonight?" He whispered softly so only she could hear it. It made her skin crawl and the feeling was hateful. She nodded politely, batting her eyes to him as he left. When Connor was gone around the corner she entered the hostel with all due haste. Time to go for a quick swim.

[Requiem of Insanity]

The sea was a bit cold considering the sunny day as its waves crashed against the port trying to destroy the wooden barriers that intruded into its domain. The coast it seemed was filled with violent waves and it was known that once in a year the waves would reach a high enough rise to wash over the whole port. While to this day few lives were lost the sailors and people rightly feared the ocean for it could take despite what they took from it. Today the waves were rather calm, and it was perfect for Cassandra as she dived into the water from the far western docks. She swam around for a bit letting cold create a barrier around her so she could get used to the temperature and she eventually submersed herself into the water.

She had rented a breathing enchantment from the front desk of the hostel for this operation, and the enchantment would wear off when she was due to get ready for her dinner with Connor. As much as she didn't want to eat with him it was the perfect chance for her to go back to the dinner hole and look around the surroundings for some item that would lead her to believe she was on the right trail. Until then she had a few hunches she wanted to confirm, and the exercise would be great for her.

As she swam she could see the tiny fish swimming about in their schools and the rising seaweed from the ground up. A few fishing boats went to sail overhead and she did her best to avoid them. When she reached the eastern dockside she noticed the familiar rocky area where the current was much fiercer. She swam near the rocks and was grateful the weather was so calm, or else she could have easily been swept up and become a paste upon the rock. Yum. She thought about the idea of slamming into the jagged rock and she moved tenderly closer to it. When she reached the piece she could feel all kinds of current slamming into her. She danced around the rock moving into a prominent position swatting the small tortoise swimming at her. It free fell to the ground as it hid behind its shell and she couldn't give to craps about whether she may have killed the creature or not. As she swam downwards she felt the memory of that one day creep up on her.

The scene from before still came to the fore, the grassy plains, the tiny farm house and the man was still looking at her intently. Her dress was still dirty and she hated being stuck in his grasp. "You mean to tell me you feel no regret for taking the cats life?" he asked again. She sighed shaking her head. "Why in gods name did you do that?" He asked in shock. Cassandra shrugged her tiny shoulders and looked up at him with uncaring eyes.

"I felt like it. I felt that if I were to kill the cat I would feel better and my body wouldn't act strange again. And I killed it, and I was right. I feel loads better, just like when I killed the Patterson's chicken and the Venden's cat Suki." The man looked at her with wide eyes as she gave him an honest face, picking up a stick and poking the corpse of the cat.

"Hunny, I asked you if you knew anything about that. How come you lied to me? How come you didn't tell me you had these feelings?" She shrugged and started to blur away as the feeling of light headed feeling started to kick in. She was losing her oxygen and the first signs of being nearly out were kicking in. She cursed herself for not getting the job done quickly enough realizing she hadn't found anything that she was looking for, and when she realized she spent all that time day dreaming she grew irritated with herself.

As she started to rise to the surface she saw that same stupid turtle who was bothering her before, it was snapping at something, and as she looked she felt all her emotions of joy fly out at once. The turtle snapped at the eye ball of a dead body, and next to that body were several others, at least seven in count. She saw what she needed to see in the ocean and she swam upwards quickly. All she needed now was to see the killer in the eyes and she could make her move. I guess animals aren't so bad after all.

[Requiem of Insanity]

Conner had arrived promptly to her door at the appointed hour of dinner, and it aggravated Cassandra because she wasn't ready yet, her hair still soaked from her under water expedition. She quickly through on a simple robe and sandals and opened the door with a wild smile. He looked her body up and down before he let his blush cheeks move in what could only be the herald of more boring words that would filter through his filthy mouth. She let him say his meaningless compliments as he let him into her room, telling him she would be out and dressed in a few moments time. When she entered the ornate pearl white bathroom she let the water of the copper colored sink fill up before she submerged her head. Silence filled her world as she closed her eyes under the cool tap of liquid.

In her serenity she could envision the ratty old restaurant and the paint chips on the wall. The broken fan and the mean waiter who served them their food. All seemed to fit, but somethings were off. She felt the need to get her head cleared before she went to an assumption. After a few moments of peaceful silence she threw her head back up, her hair hitting her back and water splashing everywhere. Taking a nearby terry cloth towel off the copper wire rack she dried herself and swiftly got into a decent outfit. A long blouse and short skirt would do the trick. She went out to greet Connor who smiled as he saw her, most pleased with her outfit despite his best efforts to hide it. Eww. Mental masturbation. she smiled to him in a very flattering way, and he took her coat off the chair and held it open for her to wear.

"Thank you so much!" She said gratefully. I wasn't cold jackass. Conner led her out of the hostel towards the docks and she knew exactly where she was being led. The seagulls all flew about in the air, and the sailors began to walk back toward the mainland as their day was over. Besides the calls of the gulls and the creaking of the wood the day was over for the docks. When they reached the shanty the waiter greeted them again.

"I'm surprised you came back." he grunted. "Two specials coming up." he already anticipated their orders in a crude manner as he let them sit at the same table. Conner began his chit chat with her, and she parried the conversation back to him as much as possible as she watched the waiter. The giant sized server slammed the fish to the slab and used a giant butchers knife to cut off the heads, red covering the blade in some patchy blobs all over the blade. She looked to the walls and noticed that there was a small struggle that happened since the previous time she ate at this establishment. A table was knocked over by the front of the door, and the walls had a few dents as if a large person slammed into it.

"I got this scar during the Black Archipelago war when the drow invaded." Conner said lifting his shirt to show a nasty scar across his back. Cassandra suddenly felt interest in the man and looked at the wound with admiration.

"You fought in a war, did you?" Conner nodded taking a sip of his disgusting water, something Cassandra made a habit of avoiding. She traced the wound with her finger, the long vertical cut going in a downwards sweep like someone raked his back with their weapon. It was to wide of a girth to be a blade however. She noticed around the side of his lower ribcage on the left side of his back the purple and blue markings of a nasty bruise. "How did that happen?" She asked amused. Conner lowered his shirt quickly and coughed loudly taking a drink looking at the waiter with an urgent face. No the waiter won't save you. He looked back to her with those rosy cheeks and lowered his head in shame.

"It's not anything special. A dog ran into me and I tripped hard onto a bucket." He laughed nervously and Cassandra laughed with him. Ha, what a ditz! At long last the food came and they ate some more, Cassandra learning all about Conner's time in the military with curious interest as she looked around her surroundings one last time. After the two finished they gathered their things and she began to make a mental note of the entrance and the exits into the place. The best part of the evening was the clouds rolling in, and the waves getting louder. It would be easier for her to sneak in and do her job unabated. The last part of the puzzle was to get Conner to leave her alone for the evening, and then leave him by the morn.

Her urges were starting to grow as her heart raced. It was all she could do to contain the sensations she felt so Conner wouldn't try and think he would get lucky again. The kill would be tonight, that was good enough for now. Anything else mattered little.

[Requiem of Insanity]

The night air was cold as the sea breeze rolled over the docks like a heavy blanket. the towns people all remained inside the bars and the homes as the cold air and the waves made being outside particularly unpleasant. This was not the night to be caught outside in the dead of night.

Wrapped up tightly all the way to her nose, Cassandra stalked the surrounding area with mild discomfort. The heavy cloth she used kept her warm and the moon wasn't shining as brightly tonight, the clouds helping her keep things nice and hidden. She walked gingerly so her sack of cutlery wouldn't jingle to loudly, though who would hear her she didn't know now care. The hunt was on and she didn't pay any attentions to anything else. The rest of the world could wait as far as she cared. As she walked over the dock carefully so it wouldn't creak beneath her padded feet she made way for the disgusting shanty not far from the restaurant. Inside was her target, and as she walked over to the house she saw her target. She doubled back towards the restaurant and easily forced the door open. The place was completely deserted, and sighing with relief she lifted her heavy burden onto the table she ate at and opened her sack letting the tools of her trade lie out in the open. Shshhh my darlings...I promise you'll play tonight. She grabbed one throwing dagger for defensive reasons and walked back to the targets house.

The giant like man sat lazily in a chair, looking at a wall littered with papers of the town newsletter. Missing people reports and the like. Trophies she thought dismally. She never felt the need for trophies in her eyes. They were just useless relics that always led to a Pandora's Box of problems. As she waited for him to start to snooze she slowly began to finger the edge of the window. With little effort the wooden frame easily slid up with no sound at all. Taking it as an omen she jumped into his home and made herself cozy in a corner. As she watched him drink his beers she glared at the moon, realizing he was taking a long time to fall asleep. He moaned and grumbled about losses, his frustrations. He talked with himself about deeds long done before the slurring became muttering and he began to snore. She moved forward in a taunting manner letting her hips sway across his living room floor. She looked at the posters and fliers of the people who went missing, and she started to collect them all one at a time reading each name. These will come in handy.

She turned over to the brute of a man, but her eyes saw the hint of a reflection and looked over to a table. On it was a picture of him and a few other men standing by a war galleon. Each person on the picture was in a bad quality of black and white, but faces of most could be seen, except for one guy on the far left. His face was ripped out in anger clearly. She picked up the photo and released it from the frame looking at the back. Names of people she had little care for were written, but one name was scribbled out in a very messy fashion. She read the name over and her senses tingled in her mind. She looked over to the giant of a man and saw his body hunched over in what could unmistakably be the hunch of regret and sadness.

She sniffed the air and smelt his depression clearly in her nostrils. The frustration and anger were now lingering in the back of the scent. She looked at the giant in a new way and came to a simple conclusion. He's not my killer. With agitation setting in her urges began to grow haywire as she walked back to the window, leaving in the way she came in, walking towards the restaurant.

She kicked the door open in agitation and pouted behind her mask as she started hastily gathering her things. As she did so she looked at the red paint chips on the wall and noticed they were at chest level. She looked around the floor and found a few other similar paint chips on the ground a few feet further. As she walked over to the paint she took a finger and dragged it against the wall. As she brought it to her pallet she tasted the transfer and smiled devilishly. A memory returned of her childhood again and she allowed it to take her.

The man stood in front of her, looking in shock at Cassandra as she kept her finger in her mouth sucking deeply. He ran to her quickly she took the finger out of her mouth and the open wound began to pour blood out. "How long did you have this cut?" He demanded as he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her finger. Cassandra smiled and shrugged as she watched the white cloth turn red. "Cassandra...you have to control these urges!" he said disapprovingly.

"Why, I didn't hurt anybody but myself." he shook his head in anger as he picked her up. He carried her outside to the porch where he sat her on his lap looking her deeply into her eyes. "Guess I get another lesson..." she sighed.

"Can it." He said harshly. "These urges, they can be controlled you know. You just have to work very hard at it. You can't be a slave to it forever. Eventually you have to grow up and take responsibility." His words began to trail off as a horse rider rode up to the house. He let go of Cassandra and began to yell for her to get into the house. The scene started to fade away as reality kicked in again.

Cassandra opened her eyes smiling as she suddenly realized who her killer was.

[Requiem of Insanity]

She didn't have to bother waiting for a new night to come. Her killer would be where she expected him to be, and the night was far from over. She looked at the moon and smiled as her feet walked forward with confidence. She was sure of this feeling if she could only experience so few of them. The certainty of her body made her feel enlightened. Each step released another tension from the weeks before. Each knot was slowly loosening in her shoulders as she made her way. Fuzzy visions of her past consumed her, and she didn't mind them. She had time to waste anyway as she stood by the hostel near the bushes. Her target wouldn't be there for at least an hour. Why not have a trip down memory lane.

The scene of the man and her child self returned with all do haste. She was back on the porch, and some stranger strode swiftly upon horseback towards her home. The man had argued with her to get inside, but she stood watching in aw of the pure size of the horse. A black stallion no doubt. As the mysterious person strode closer he pointed to the man near by her.

"Jebb Remi, you're coming with me!" He said full of anger and hostility. Jebb rose his hand in acceptance as he looked to Cassandra. His look was full of some form of sorrow and regret. It was sad for Cassandra to see him like that, but he ushered for her to go inside.

"Please, not in front of her. Let's just go to the barn and settle this matter in private. No funny stuff I swear." Jebb said sincerely. The wind blew gently as the sun was in its last few vestiges of life. The horse whinnied and stomped its feat as Cassandra made eye contact with the beast, and she took a few steps back in admiration for the stronger foe. The man nodded after a moment getting off his horse and grabbing his pack bringing it with him as Jebb moved towards the barn, his hands still raised. "Cassandra, inside, now!" He ordered. She felt her body shudder with rage at being bossed around and stood defiantly with her tiny arms crossed.

"No!" She shouted back with dignity. "I want to see what you're doing!" Jebb stopped and looked at her with the most sinister of glares. A rare emotion sparked into the tiny girl and she just ran inside the house in fear of whatever threat he was about to say. As the screen door slammed the hostel door was opened with a loud creak. Coming back into reality with a jolt of unpreparedness Cassandra felt her entire body surge with anticipation. Shit I almost lost my chance! Got to stop day dreaming. She prepared herself as she moved swiftly, catching the door just before it slammed shut and walked into the building, gently closing the door behind her. She moved into the shadows as her prey already started to walk up the creaky stairs. Gods he's fast.

She moved swiftly forward until she arrived at the bottom of the stairs, knowing their were exactly fourteen steps per flight. She already heard her prey walk up the fifth step because the creaking wood only sounded on stairs three, five, and nine through thirteen. She had to time her movement carefully with precision or else the target would easily know somebody was coming. At last she heard the sound of stair nine start creaking and she darted up the stairs skipping two at a time. She was already at the ninth stair when he hit the final stair and she leaped forward landing with all the agility she had on the thirteenth stair. She was nearly one foot away from her target and she held her breath tightly. That's it, I'm spending more time in a gym. she thought bitterly as she was floundering for the railing so she wouldn't lose her balance. She at last grabbed the post and lifted herself up with ease, easily avoiding the final step. She walked forwards in mimicking steps taking long strides before she heard a door open. SHIT! She leapt for the shadows.

"Hello mister O'Brian." came the mind numbingly boring sound of Conner's not so angelic voice. Oh shit. She said alarmed. She moved near the table and waited, at last having the correct target walking. A door clicked open and light poured out, just before the table she hid behind. Close the door you old geezer! She felt her urges going haywire as Conner and the old gentleman, O'Brian, chatted away for what felt like forever. Dear gods Conner, do you ever get tired of hearing your own voice.

At last the door shut and Conner started walking away. Cassandra moved near O'Brian's door and listened for the man to get to sleep. As she expected, the light turned off quickly. With grace and speed she bolted down the hall and as she heard the stairs starting to creak she made her move. She leapt down exactly behind her target and her arms moved out as one, her left around the throat, the other arm to apply all the pressure. Her prey squirmed, attempting to yell for help. Trying everything they floundered about looking for some leverage, but Cassandra gripped tightly and off to Neverland the body went, the struggles no longer in force.

Good night...sleep well. She smiled as she began to drag the unconscious body to the restaurant.

[Requiem of Insanity]

If she could have part of her hobby she hated, Cassandra would say dragging the body was the worst part. The body was always twice as heavy than she anticipated, and was always just a big burden to set up and get ready. Everything else that came after it was just the best, and it made this one sour part worth the whole experience.

The night continued to droll onwards as the waves still crashed against the docks, the cloak of her shadows still hiding her safely. She let her mask fall off for their was nobody to hide from at this point. People get drunk, and it was a cold night. She wouldn't have to say much to bluff her way out if she got caught. But the chances of such an event were thankfully very low, if she did her homework right. Tomorrow wasn't a freight day, the sailors were going to sleep in until noon before coming to work. No, tonight was the perfect day to get the job done.

As she walked with careful methodical precision to be done with her burden she thought back to her past, the memory of that one night still vivid in her mind. Wonder why I keep thinking of that stupid day? Her hands shifted to adjust to the weight as she kept moving towards her goal, each step she took making her urges pulse with shivered joy. It's not like I have any particular memory to that day that fits this killer. she sighed as she opened the door to the shanty and hauled her load in. She kicked over a banquet table and broke one of the ends feet so that it wouldn't object to her makeshift torture chair. She placed the table against the wall and grabbed her scissors and began to cut the clothes off her prey. When the body was naked she lifted it and leaned it against the table tying off the arms and legs so the body was left prone, hooks in the wall hammered in to keep the body tight. She roped each knot carefully so that her prey had no chance of freedom.

"Wha-Wha-What is-" Cassandra lifted her hammer and slammed the mallet into the back of the skull of the waking mumbler. Not yet, I'm not ready to kill you. she checked to make sure a pulse was still visible and, rest assured, the chest still heaved with life. You're going to have one killer headache...sorry. She roped the table to the wall as well so the resistance wouldn't rip her hooks out of the wall. They always come to early. I got to really work on that. She moved over to her instruments of pain and touched each one lovingly with her fingers. A potato peeler, a butchers knife, a foot long dagger, cat's claws, a parrying knife, a throwing knife, assorted sizes of hooks and finger clamps, a serrated knife five inches in length; these were all her tools of pleasure and pain. She has used each on dozens of others, her craft at inflicting harm still in the ways of growing. She read the news articles and looked at the picture again, seeing her target and learning about the vile thing they are.

She looked at the body again in admiration of all she learned recently. You are one sick person. I'm guessing your urges don't have a conscience. Luckily mine do. Sometimes you just have to grow up and take responsibility for yourself. The body began to moan and stir, the hands first noticing they were roped to the wall. As the body looked to her she flashed a dazzling bright smile, her face showing her genuine feeling of happiness.

Showtime!

[Requiem of Insanity]

"You're wondering why you are here." A voice called out from the shadows. The surrounding room was filled only with the sound of crashing waves, the ocean roaring as the moonlight only let one spot of the entire room fill with light. Scuffling was heard from the corners, and only small traces of a slim figured outline could be discerned.

"What's going on here? Where am I? Who are you?" She stepped forward, grin wild and open with each tooth clearly visible. The promised look of joy and happiness washed any illusions of sarcasm. The man tensed up as his mouth only breathed the word, "Elizabeth." His eyes looked to her with sudden confusion as he realized his feet and hands were tied up with rope.

"Struggling won't help you, Conner." She mused as she walked back into the cloak of night, the sound of metal being shuffled around. "You'll find I am very thorough." She crept back into the scene with one hand behind her back. "So I'd just sit back and enjoy the fun. It's going to be a long night and I'd hate for you to give in to early." He gave her a small look of utter confusion, but a hint of knowing came behind the cold glare. He was figuring it out, but she couldn't enjoy it if he didn't know flat out his time was now. She approached him with a smile on her face. "Conner, or should we say Peter," She held up the photo with the hole in it, his face looked well in place with the others.

"Who the fuck are you, some spy? I knew you were a spy!" Her deeper inhibitions led her to laugh, and she felt the ecstasy of the moment fill her every being. "WHAT'S SO FUNNY!" He shouted, but it wasn't any macho shout. He was terrified and scared beyond his own wit, which she figured was a lot higher than she first would have guessed.

"I've already said I'm no spy." She walked closer to him, and revealed the small parrying knife in her hand. Her reverse grip allowed him time to see it was not yet a threat, and he breathed uncomfortably as she was inches from his body. "I'm not Elizabeth either." She turned around and tapped the blade on her chin as she crossed her arms. "Names that start with the letter E never really worked for me. Emily, Emma, Erica, Elizabeth, Ellie, Erin, Elanor," she turned back to him. "None of them stick really. No the only name they could label on this monster was Cassandra. Not like it matters anyway to you." He fought with his bonds that chained him to the makeshift table, but he wasn't going anywhere.

"What do you want with me?" He seethed through his teeth, the stench of fear overwhelming her senses. She took the knife and cut upon the inside of his ribcage, right between the bones. He shouted out a cry of pain, screaming for people someone, anyone to help him. But nobody would be able to hear him. Mother nature and her ocean waves handled that wonderfully. "Why are you doing this to me, I didn't do anything wrong." He stammered out indignity. She sighed as she moved to his left side, taking her knife and running it down along the scar of his back.

"Easy you moron, once I could see clearly. First tip off was you kept using the dinner as an excuse to scout your target. Can't say it wasn't a good strategy, I did it myself." She cut the scar directly this time, re-opening the wound as the blood poured out. "This scar," She used the hilt of the knife to punch his side in where it was bruised. "This poor excuse of you tripping." She walked over to the shadows out of sight, but returned with a broken fin from the fan that was also broken. "That was no war scar you dip, it was cut by the edge of this fan here where the giant owner of the place grabbed it to fend you off. The blunt side of this where it broke off here" She pointed so it was very clear to him. "Was where he hit you. You tried twice and you miserably failed to knock the giant on his ass and finish him off. That's why this place is such a hell hole and not kept in good standing order. You scared him into a fierce paranoia that he has trouble sleeping let alone run an establishment. A for effort though, at least his brain is fried." She smiled to him walking over to the wall with the red paint chips. "These here are about my height, to low of an angle for the big guy to splash blood from, and it's old, really old. Made me think at first that it was old paint, but no, it's blood." She walked back into the shadows, the sound of papers being shuffled.

"You got a lot of theory, but I have no need nor want to fight that big brute. You got the wrong guy..." He said weakly realizing he wasn't even buying his own words. She returned with news articles with pictures of seven different faces.

"Each one, a different body, a body you brought to this place via the passanger boat. You stuck these articles to the body and left them attached to the body for your current target to find. Seven different towns, seven different bodies. Your friend just tossed his old buddy's bodies into the sea, but I went swimming and found them. The article he always kept as a reminder his time was short. Each time you brought him a body he crossed off a name in sadness, but your name. He knew you were the one but, for whatever reason that I honestly couldn't give two shits about, he couldn't tell it was you this whole time." She smiled taking the knife and cutting his other ribcage just near the diaphragm. He cringed this time, refusing to give in. How macho men were when they realized they were a monster. She lifted the picture so he could see it. He looked at each face carefully before he spat at the photo. She laughed moving forward and stuffing it in his face crushing his nose. She went back into the shadows and the sounds of clanging metal were easily heard. She ran forward with the finger clamps and placed them delicately around each knuckle. "This may hurt." She said excitedly. She twisted the knob at the top and the clamps began to shut on his knuckles, and before long they began to get crunched as the unmistakable sound of breaking bones was heard. Within mere seconds his cries turned to agony and she grabbed her knife and cutting him just below each ear. She let the blood pool onto her blade and she dipped her tounge into it, her eyes fluttering immediately.

"You got issues you fucking freak!" He shouted to her as he watched her nearly orgasm over the taste of his blood.

"Ugh." She sighed in disappointment. "Did you have to ruin the taste with such a tasteless choice of phrase? Freak? Psycho? Those words are just so useless to me. Come up with something interesting you stupid fuck. For once in the miserable life that is you please say SOMETHING interesting that I would actually want to listen too. If you can't come up with something than do me the honor of shutting your fucking mouth and letting me enjoy this. Please?" She gave him a fake smile. "I worked so hard for this." She pleaded.

"Go to hell." He spat out blood towards her, but she paid him no mind. She walked back into the shadows and returned with a piece of rope. His eyes monitored her as she moved closer to him.

"I hate to do this, muffled screams are not as enjoyable as the real sound ringing in my ears. But this is not really all that enjoyable if you have nothing constructive to say." She figured. As she placed the small length of rope around his neck he started to scream again, and she pulled tight on the rope around his neck, choking him before he caved in. She lifted the rope to his mouth, and the last audible thing she heard from his mouth was,

"Why are you like this?" He asked. She wrapped the ropes around his mouth and contemplated the answer, realizing with certain clarity why she was like this.

"Fine, let me tell you a story." She said. "Since so many of you cry for the reason, for once, I'll answer your cries."

[Requiem of Insanity]

The memory came back with such clarity that her urge was at her peak. She remembered being the tiny girl in the pretty white dress, running into the house just as her father, Jebb Remi, demanded of her. He went into the barn, and the stranger with the black stallion followed him in. She sat in her room, doing nothing. Not moving, not even breathing loudly. She kept to herself and looked at the headless dolls on her floor. That was to easy for her, a first sign of the troubles that would plague her in life. After a moment she went back into the front room, her stomach at a gurgling point. She was so hungry back then. Either for killing, or either for food. Either satisfied her. Either way she was hungry, and killing was out of the option. All the animals learned to stay away from her. Any foolish enough to try would meet an end worse than death.

It was night time now, the stars shining dazzling in the night. The only source of light in the house was from the moon, a full brilliantly beautiful bright moon. Her tiny frame reached for the front door and slowly she turned the knob, it was a cold and uninviting feel to the metal. But her life had little meaning to her at this age in time. The warnings would send a shiver of alarm or fear down a rational persons spine. Not hers. She couldn't feel anyway. Emotions couldn't grip her heart for it was black and devoid of any feelings. She would consider this pathetic of other people later in life. Instead of making it a life style of permanent emotional depression, she just accepted she couldn't have feelings and lived just as normal as anybody else. Yet her life on that day would be forever altered.

Her tiny feet brought her out to the grass, the horse already had departed it seemed long ago. She looked around her home, and saw the barn lit up with lamps. She walked closer to the barn door, and she heard an ear piercing scream that actually stopped her cold in her tracks. The shrill cry actually bothered her. So different than an animal and so scarring to her. She knew at that one moment, despite her youth, she had two options: Turn back now and live a normal life, or go forward and embrace a destiny that was hers to have. She didn't take this choice with a grain of salt, actually standing still with each scream making sure it was what she wanted. But it seemed as if something inside her pushed her forward. Not in a demanding way, but an encouraging way. Her first step was difficult, met with another torturous scream piercing into the night. Her new found friend however kept that steady hand of confidence on her shoulder, not pushing her forward, but standing next to her in a comforting way. She took another step. Much easier this time. A third scream that actually chilled her bones. She felt like turning back, but the hand was firm this time. Though no pressure to move forward, there was no option to turn back. She had made her choice, but she had no need to rush into her destiny. She could take as long as she needed.

At last, nearly an hour after her first step she made it to the door, a mere twenty feet from where she stood. The screams became moans of pain, and it was clear whoever went in there was dying. She peaked around the corner of the barn, and her eyes lit up at first in horror, but the hand touched her shoulder one last time, and she felt the call with full clarity. She had seen what her destiny was, and she was ready to embrace it.

Taking the steps inwards she saw the stranger who approached their home from before upon a table, tied up and naked. He was bleeding all over, his body a mess of a thing. She saw his eyes look to hers, and Jebb followed his gaze to hers.

"Oh shit," He said in alarm. "Cassandra leave now!" He shouted. Cassandra walked in deeper. "NOW!" He barked, that look of pure hatred on his face. But she didn't hear him, she saw the body, tortured and bruised and dying. It was heavenly to her, a rare sight from the gods that blessed her. Jebb gave her an odd look, but as she picked up a bloodied knife and walked next to Jebb she stood staring at the body. She looked up at Jebb with a smile that was the only spark of happiness she ever gave him, and Jebb felt tears swell up behind his eyes. She was acknowledging that for the first time, she wanted to be with Jebb.

"Show me what you know," and for the first time she said the words Jebb longed to hear. "Show me Father, how to be like you." With teary eyes he nodded.

As the memory concluded with her and her father butchering the body of the stranger who came to her house, she was caught up in a whirling orgasm of blood and emotions. Demanding what was rightfully hers. She cut the rope around her victims mouth, cutting deep into his cheeks. Each scream made her cut him more and more as she showered the whole room in blood and body parts. This feeling was why she killed. This feeling was why she had to torture her victims. The urges inside her died down with each swing of the knives. Each new different pain she inflicted was another piece of the stress she built up dying down. This was who she was, and this is what she wanted to be.

The sins of her father. That was who she was.

[Ataraxis]

Just as a note, I will only be acting as the interim for your actual judge by posting the judgment here! If you have any quests, forward them to me so that I can relay the message, and we'll get back to you as soon as possible.


Quest Judging
Sins of the Father

Well, this was an interesting way to introduce your new character. I saw that you kind of had it set up like a mystery for Cassandra to solve, only instead of bringing the bad guy in to Scotland Yard like Miss Marple or Hercules Poirot, she got to be judge, jury, and executioner.

Anyway...there's something that bugged me that I couldn't find a place for in the actual judgment, so...you don't find tortoises in the sea (post 4). They don't go swimming. Turtles swim. They have flippers. Tortoises have feet. Anyway, on to the fun number part.

Continuity - 7

While I don't have a solid sense of what Cassy was up to before the curtains rose on Scene I, or what she'll be up to after the curtains closed on the Finale, I got the feeling that this was all pretty standard for her...find another serial killer, stalk him and his habits for a bit, capture him, torture him, and kill him; lather, rinse, repeat.

You also tried bringing in flashbacks of her early life, slowly leading up through the story to the tale of why she had become a murderer, and as far as continuity goes, it accomplished its purpose, but I'll be touching on it more in Technique and Pacing.

Finally, I'd like to congratulate you on intra-thread continuity. If you brought something up in the thread and made a point of it being out of place, from the red spatter on the walls of the run-down diner to the scar Connor used to try to impress Cassandra with, you used it, and that is something seen all too rarely. I've seen too many threads with detail elaborated upon and not used, creating clutter, or pulled out of nowhere, creating confusion.

Pacing - 5

This story felt like it dragged and got caught in various hangups, which slowed it down and made it kind of cumbersome. The back and forth between past and present was a major source of this problem; moving between the two was jarring and often seemed random. For an example of a smoother past to present transition, look here (http://althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=9270).

Setting - 6

You were frequently very detailed in describing the setting of whatever location Cassy happened to be in, so I always knew what the surroundings looked like, and even what they smelled like...but it was like you were painting a canvas on which you could have your assassin do her deadly dance, it didn't seem integral at all. It would have been the same effect on a stage with a few setting props as in a real environment.

You did have a non-sequitur in Setting. In post 3, Connor runs with Cassandra into the woods. Up until that point, and after that point, it was a nice little seemingly sub-tropical coastal town. The woods weren't hinted at in the distance, they just seem to be in there randomly for the imagery of having a pretty woman running merrily through the forest.

Dialogue - 5

To be blunt, in the first three-fourths of the thread, a lot of the dialogue was awkward, rigid, and forced, rather like cardboard. While it might have been entertaining and fluid to have those same lines in that same situation out of someone with a different personality, outward fawning and inward disgust just don't seem to be the sort of thing she would bother with, despite being an entertainer, but I will touch on that more in Persona. Connor, too, had odd conversation during the parts of the thread where he wasn't being killed. Everything became a lot more natural once Cassandra finally got down to business and ended the farce.

Action - 5

Characters acting out of character made this rather awkward for much of the thread, and a lot of it was dilly dallying around between the motel and diner, rather than anything meaty. The torture sequences, while they had some amount of detail, were a bit rushed, which took out a lot of what it could have been.

One other thing, regarding the blood spatter that Cassy mistook at first as peeling paint: peeling paint looks like this (http://www.flickr.com/photos/schlegl/363533974/), blood spatter like this (http://www.miiagency.com/BloodSpatterPhoto.JPG). Seeing as Cassandra's been in this business since she was a tiny thing, I'd think she'd be able to tell blood spatter from paint chips.

Persona - 5

Cassandra's profile says that she's an actress of moderate skill. That would explain how she was able to fool the NPC Connor, but up until the last three posts, she came off as very plastic to the reader, as though the role were a plastic bag rather than a real act. In the future, I'd suggest that instead of having her flashing whatever persona she's supposed to be about, and then jarring the reader in the same breath with who she really is, pretend that she is the role, and then take her back to herself at a transition point.

That said, she reads like she has anti social disorder to a very severe degree, so why she needs the back and forth beyond a smug sense of superiority doesn't seem to make sense.

Mechanics - 5

While your mechanical errors were not any more egregious than normal, they were very plentiful. I saw sentences in need of commas that had none, sentences that had commas that shouldn't have, commas that should have been flanking clauses, but there was only one. I saw words jammed together that should have been separated (somethings in post 5, for instance, should have been some things) and words apart that should have been together (nevertheless for never-the-less). I saw "to" used for "two" and "too," among other things. Like I said, nothing big, but frequent and irksome.

Technique - 6

You tried to do a whodunit-esque story while incorporating flashbacks throughout. This was a valiant attempt, but unfortunately, it fell somewhat flat. I'd advise doing an either/or...either a whodunit or a flashback story, so one doesn't trip over the other.

Clarity - 5

First off, the frequency of mechanical errors didn't help this score, and neither did the frequency of awkward, jumbled, and disjointed sentences. Take this sentence, for example, from post 2:

"Red paint chips spread across the walls as the fan was missing a fin and thus couldn't rotate properly."

While it turns out that the spatter and missing fan blade ARE interconnected, I don't see how the fan missing a "fin" and being unable to rotate right has anything to do with peeling paint. I'd like to suggest reading your work aloud. It feels silly, but if a sentence makes you go "huh?" you'll know it needs work.

Wild Card - 6

An interesting and refreshingly unconventional beginning. Good luck with Cassy and her growth.

Total: 51 Congratulations!

REWARDS

Requiem of Insanity gains: 765 EXP!
Requiem of Insanity gains: 122 GP!

[Witchblade]

EXP and GP added!