Chris Worren

"I thought you were different... I guess I was right, in all the wrong ways."

The Beginning of an End
Life is a funny thing. There are set events that happen within it, things that would not change no matter how the situation was played through. Like a scripted scene upon the stage. Then, there are events that fall under various names; The Domino Effect, The Butterfly Effect, the red strings of fate. These wonderfully cruel and twisted tools of the lady of luck are the things that bind everyone together. For better or for worse.

For Chris, growing up as he was was... rough. Being an effeminate boy was enough to garner bullying from cruel children bred on intolerance in the town of Benbrook, Texas. The fact of his preferences certainly didn't help either. He had known he was different from a young age, it was rather obvious at the age of ten when he chose stuffed animals and dolls over video games and sports. It only became more obvious as he grew, choosing the more feminine clothing styles, growing out his hair, and finding more than a little appreciation of a well toned male physique.

He never openly announced himself but, it didn't matter, he was tormented all the same for what he was. Whether the children actually knew what he was or not it didn't matter, he was called all the same slurs for his demeanor and his dress, shoved aside roughly while he walked through the halls of his school, forced to check his seat for tacks and his locker for rotten food, shunned and pushed aside from the main crowds until he was just a ghost walking through the halls most days. He found refuge in his books, it wasn't as if he had friends to hang out with and adding the moniker of 'geek' to his large list of titles was hardly a devastating matter, so his grades were well kept and his assignments were almost always done well before they were due.

It was an unhappy existence but it was something he could deal with so long as he kept the reminder that high-school was not forever, even if it felt like it. This existence that dragged on from day to day was made a bit more bearable at moments though by the last person Chris had expected to ever find a shred of comfort within. A boy named Daniel. Ruggedly handsome, a touch that was warm on his shoulder, a voice that held no malice, Chris thought he had found an angel and would always find his day brightened when Daniel, one of the most well liked football players, would stop by. Even if it was only for a few minutes or if he just gave a passing hello. Chris would never say they had become anything close, they were hardly friends, but Daniel was still something that broke the silence and hatred and made life in the education hell tolerable.

They were on well enough terms that when Chris had left the library late that night, having been allowed to stay by sheer fact of being the librarian's favorite and a help in sorting the books, and came across an iPod he recognized as Daniel's he didn't have a second thought about returning it. On a practice night, at such a late hour, the most logical spot to find the boy that broke the ice on Chris' world would be the locker rooms by the stadium. So Chris made his way out to them, winding his way through the hallways of the home team locker rooms, shoulders hunched and demeanor nervous as most of the halls lay dark and clips of the usually brutish players voices echoed about. Players he had yet to find until he ran head long into the broad chest of one and almost immediately felt fire flush his face when he realized what he had exactly walked into.

The brawny chestnut haired quarterback sneered down at him, a player he recognized from numerous sessions of torment often instigated by the very one in front of him, dropping his shirt from the shoulder it rested and ignoring it as it hit the ground in favor of devoting all his focus to quickly backpedaling Chris.

"What are you doing here fag? Trying to get a peek or something?"

His words echoed across the locker room and drew the attention of the others, like a wolf cry summoning the pack to a kill. The others soon circled around the much smaller boy, jeering at him, shoving him, and drowning out his stammered explanations beneath their baritone slurs They blocked his exit and quickly became violent, his bag was torn off, the ipod skittered across the floor when it was knocked out of his hands, and then the air was forced out of his lungs as a meaty fist met his stomach. Chris hit the floor, gasping and clutching at his chest, listening to their cruel laughter as his vision swam in and out of darkness. It swam for a full minute and he listened during that time as the door opened, the darkness finally vanishing in time for Chris to lift his head and catch the sight of Daniel approaching.

He couldn't even take a moment to calm himself in the presence of his angel, someone he thought would be his rescue, as Daniel's features distorted in rage, followed by the remainder of his features, before a tide of blood warmed Chris' face. His mind couldn't truly grasp what he was seeing. Limbs shifting, a form darkening and then there was red as one of the football players stood, trembling, in place as he looked down at his gaping gut which now lay exposed and left his entrails hanging to his ankles before he collapsed. Chris couldn't bring himself to scream like the others, the air having yet properly recovered and his mind racing to fast to process even the most base thought of screaming, he simply tried to scramble away and was aided in this as a massive hand struck out towards him. He felt fire erupt over his chest and stomach and then flare up at his back as the force sent him flying back against the far wall.

He slumped to the floor, his front growing wet and warm as blood dribbled from the wounds, and could do nothing but sit and watch as the massacre took hold of the remainder of the team. That monstrous... thing in the midst of it. It ended as quickly as it had begun, the screams silenced abruptly and all that was left was the heavy breathing and growling of the beast and the grotesque snick of rending flesh as the creature buried it's muzzle within a corpse. Chris wanted to stay silent, to play dead and hope the this demon of a thing passed him over, but his body betrayed him and he let out a whimper of a breath that drew the burning eyes to him. They bore into his pitiful frame, imprinting themselves within his nightmares for ages, as the beast moved it's hulking frame forward to tower over him. Jaws dripping with blood and saliva that let out little plip plip noises as they hit the floor. Chris felt the beast's breath wash over his face as the massive skull lowered to be level with his, those burning eyes continuing to bore into his skull until all at once they were gone.

Chris' world fell into black the next moment.

When he woke he was in the hospital, the doctors explaining away the violent attack by way of a rabid cougar that had roamed into the locker rooms. They explained away his stitches and said he would be out of school for a good while to ensure his injuries were fully recovered. They said a good deal of things Chris simply tuned out and he did not say a thing in turn. He was silent as the doctors did their rounds and well into the night. He was silent as a man in a nice suit came into the room and took a seat by his bed long after visitors should have been allowed and when the hospital was silent.

"Hello." The man began. "My name is Miller. I am a psychiatrist here to help you through your ordeal. It's quite traumatic what you have gone through and it's understandable for such traumas to affect ones thinking. It's okay if you don't remember everything it's-"

Chris broke in here, his words deadpan and his eyes focused on the ceiling. "I remember everything." How could he not? Those eyes... the deed was made permanent with those eyes as it's stamp.

The man, Miller, stopped and sighed and let his shoulders slump. "That is something I was afraid of. Well in that case I am here to give you medicine." He stooped down and began to hunt through his bag which he had brought in with him. "You won't need to remember long."

Not need to remember? No! To forget that, to forget what had happened, to forget what had almost killed him, to forget that bastard man who had played himself off as an angel only to turn into a demon before his eyes and very nearly slaughter him like the rest. Chris doubted that even medicine would make those eyes vanish from the dark cracks of his mind.

"No." His eyes lowered to Miller who raised a brow. "I want to remember."

"Oh? Why is that, now?"

"I want... to find that... thing. I want to find him." And make him talk. Make him answer to his actions and why he would give Chris such hope only to do such a thing and not even apparently find it worthy to kill him but instead haunt his nightmares. To leave him with these scars like a terrible joke of a calling card to remember him by. "I can't forget."

Miller looked on at him, thin brow lifted and expression contemplative until a thin smile broke the stillness. The man reached into his bag once more and pulled out a thin, black, palm sized book and set it upon Chris' lap as he stood. "Well, I always love finding the interesting ones. Though I should have guessed you would be promising when you woke and didn't start foaming at the mouth and babbling nonsense. Read the book and when you do I will return and we can work out a nice little deal. Until then, Mr. Worren."

With a little nod the man closed his bag and walked from the room, closing the door in his wake. Chris blinked, lips pursing in confusion as he took the book and opened the cover and read the first lines upon the first page.

''The solemn order of shadowed hands who roam the woods at night. The bale of hell hound and monsters unbound are ours to oversee. We don our silence and bear our guns with our silent pride. Knowing what we do, no matter who shall not know, is always what is right.''

It was an odd little lyric, hand written within the book, but it spoke of their purpose and it sealed the deal for Chris. He'd signed the figurative contract the moment he read it. He wanted in on this, and there was no going back

Fresh Beginnings
Upon Miller's return Chris made the deal to join the organizations collectively known as the Hunters. He finished his high-school years, studying algebra all the while studying the basics of occult and the workings of a gun. He became more withdrawn from the workings of the average school students, feared for being the only survivor of such a viscous attack and all at once uninterested in other students. He had larger matters to contend with in regards to his new job.

This job that drew him away from the thoughts of his school life worked to improve his social skills without meaning to. Chris effortlessly kept in touch with superiors, always asking questions and what he could do, contacting any other members he could, and submitting in work as often as he was assigned it up to the point that the higher up had no question when they threw him in with Network Zero. And he loved it. The moment Chris came in contact with the other compact members he blossomed, always eager to share stories and simply chat with other Hunters who always seemed so willing to hold conversations and came from such a variety of backgrounds. It was something he could finally be happy about.

He stayed in contact all the way through high-school, having to thank one of his most common chat friends for telling him about job opportunists around the Atlanta region along with it's strange occurrences. Chris had wanted to leave his town from the first day he started grade school and if heading to Atlanta meant he would have more to do with his current life reason, well he couldn't pack his bags fast enough.

He had just intended to take a trip and put in job applications, heading home to wait for any replies but when he had arrived and applied at a little custom clothing store the owner warmed up to him quickly and the job was his within the next day. Chris hadn't looked back to his town from that day.

Physical Description
A slight and girlish frame, a sweet heart-shapped face, wide eyes, and a welcoming smile all make up Chris. He's a rather cute little creature, often adorning himself with feminine clothing and trinkets and styling his hair carefully.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Height: 5' 6''

Weight: 114 lbs

Figure/build: Slender and feminine

Hair color: Blue

Hairstyle: Long enough to pull into a short ponytail

Eye color: Hazel

Skin color: White

Piercings: Single ear piercings

Scars/distinguishing marks: Four claw marks running from left to right on his body, starting at his collar bone and ending at his naval.

Misc Information
BASIC INFORMATION

Full name: Christopher Thomas Worren

Nickname(s) or Alias: Chris, Chrissy

Gender: Male

Species: Human

Age: 19

Birthday: Feburary 13, 1993

Sexuality: Gay

Nationality: American

City or town of birth: Benbrook, Texas

Currently lives: Atlanta, Georgia

Languages spoken: English

Native language: English

Relationship Status: Single

HEALTH

Smoker? No

Drinker? Sometimes

Addictions: Starbursts

Allergies: Fish

Any physical ailments/illnesses/disabilities: No

Any medication regularly taken: No

PERSONALITY

Personality: Sweet and social

Likes: Boppy music, good conversation, meeting new people, plush items

Dislikes: Bigotry, bullies, clashing colors

Fears/phobias: Arachnophobia

Favorite color: Prism blue

Hobbies: Writing, blogging, club hopping

Taste in music: K-Pop, Techno, Alternative

EATING HABITS

Omnivore/Carnivore/Herbivore: Omnivore

Favorite food(s): Apple Flambe, Crepes

Favorite drink(s): Cherry soda

Disliked food: Baked Carrots

Disliked drinks: Orange Juice

HOUSE AND HOME

Describe the character's house/home: He lives in an apartment above the clothing store in which he works and he always keeps it neatly organized and warm with one room always locked off to anyone but himself.

Significant/special belongings: Well worn leather bound journal and a little Mothman plush toy sent to him by a web friend.

CAREER

Level of education: High-school diploma

Current job title and description: Store clerk/ salesman in a clothing store

COMBAT

Peaceful or aggressive attitude? Peaceful

Weapon of choice (if any): Glock 17

FAMILY, FRIENDS AND FOES

Parents names: Catherine Worren and Zachery Worren

Are parents alive or dead? Alive

Is the character still in contact with their parents? Not really

'''Siblings? Relationship with siblings?''' Only child

Other Important Relatives: None

Partner/Spouse: None

Children: None

Character Sheet
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