My name is Delilah Jezebel Williams and I am a demigod.
I have seen a lot in my 13 years.
And when I got to school I am in eighth grade.
My Mortal Parent, Eve Williams , raised me from birth.
Though my other parent, turns out to be Thanatos.
What led to my discovery of all this? Well you see...
I lived with my mother. I was an odd child, spending my time killing bugs and, eventually small animals, but for the most part things were okay. Mother didn't mind, much—perhaps she thought I was copying her trade, I don't know. She's a doctor, of sorts, doing autopsies for the police. She taught me bits of her trade, and I read all of her books on the subject.
The troubles came when I decided I wanted to experiment on people. After all, you can only do so much with animals... My curiosity in this was grown by Mother's job and her books, and a trip our class took to a morgue after reading Gothic short stories by Poe, and other similar authors (incidentally, my favorite story was The Tell-Tale Heart). It intrigued me...
Mother often worked late, and so (as I was now twelve, and could almost be trusted) one of my classmates from nearby who considered herself my friend would often stay over and we'd work on homework together. So, one such night, I claimed to be thirsty, and went into the kitchen. There, I took the biggest knife I could find, and used the hilt to knock her unconscious. I then tied her down so she wouldn't struggle (a boy scout in the class had demonstrated knot tying recently, which was quite useful). When she woke up, I set to work. I cut her arm first, cautiously, and discovered quickly just how fun it was. I started hurting her more, and more, and then, growing perhaps carried away, ripped out one of her eyes... I don't even recall the specifics, though at some point I stabbed her in the heart, I think, and she eventually died, but still, I couldn't stop...
Mother came home, so I turned and smiled, greeting her with more honest cheer than most ever saw on my face. She screamed, which I couldn't understand, and told me to quickly pack my things. I was confused, but she insisted, so I did. She herded me to the car, muttering something about how she should have known this would happen, she should have done this earlier... I wasn't too worried, still practically high from the thrill of killing someone, a living, breathing human...
She stopped off at one point at a hotel to have me clean off, which saddened me;I thought the blood was rather pretty...still, I hid my trophy, the eye, not wanting her to take that too. I had put it in some formaldehyde from Mother's lab when she told me to pack. In any case, she brought me to camp, before saying goodbye, promising to write, and leaving me here. I'm not particularly pleased, to say the least, and still confused about why she wasn't happier about what I did.
And that's when I arrived at Camp Half Blood.
Since then, I have been at camp for one year.
Staying all year round
And I have obtained the following beads:
Event: Hunters of Artemis visit
I usually am told I act like Generally calm, not easily bothered. Lazy, lethargic... A bit of a psychopath, really: I have no empathy whatsoever, and I feel no guilt if I hurt anyone, with the possible exception of my mother (which would make me a sociopath? Either way). I rarely laugh, and I keep to myself. I'm pretty quiet. I don't really care what people think of me, so I often will speak rather bluntly. Few things honestly cause emotion for me. I find death fascinating, for example, and enjoy experimenting on animals...and occasionally humans. The way people and things end their lives, and the many ways it happens: sickness, accident, murder, suicide... It fascinates me.
I can fake normal feelings, often do, but when alone or just with family, I tend to be (as mentioned above) fairly empty. I'm pretty good at playing innocent, though, when necessary, and can be quite manipulative. After all, I've learned that therapists are quite dull...so why risk being sent to one again?
I'm also quite vain. If anyone gets a stain on my dress, or messes up my hair, they will die a horrible death. I am not joking, nor am I exaggerating. They will die, and in the most painful and slow way I can come up with--and I can be quite creative when I try.
I really like eyes
blood
death
poppies
mirrors
thunder storms and hurricanes
butterflies
makeup and pretty things
But I hate boredom
people who don't like death
anyone who insults my appearance or messes it up
being interrupted when I'm experimenting
broccoli
learning anything other than biology and chemistry
reading
warm weather
And Please don't bring in Snakes (I had a nightmare once of snakes biting me and their venom hurting me, but I couldn't die), pain (being on the receiving end of it, anyway), never dying, small spaces.
But no matter what one day I want amassing a huge collection of eyes, ones of every shape and color and size.
Perhaps becoming a doctor like my mother?
Learning every possible way to kill someone or something, and being able to do them all...
In case I have to fight I have I still have my kitchen knife, and when I came, they gave me another one made of celestial bronze.
I'm really good at killing, maiming, lying.
But I'm horrible at arts and crafts, anything that bores me.
My life at camp is interesting...
I meet a few people, who are my friends Presley Van Eirlyss, Son of Boreas~
and a few people who are my enemies n/a.
Though I kind of like Presley has such a wonderful scream...
