Odysseus Dreogan (DM)

Remorseful Fugitive

The Empath

Male

21

135 lbs

5' 10"

Jet Black

Short but highly unkempt

None

Deep light blue or whatever color his aura is if it's bright enough

Human

Caucasian

Slim but athletic

His emotional aura glows around his body

Reclusive around anyone, unless you get his secret out and then he's basically submissive

To right the wrongs of his past

Highly emotional, barely rational

Himself

He is a superempath, allowing him to see the emotions of everyone around him, change said emotions, and create structures out of his own emotional aura

None

Introverted and accepting

None yet, but whatever religion would allow him to work to right the wrongs of his past he would believe

Wants to stay out of it, for obvious reasons

Recluse

Blue

None

His guns ironically

His guns

None

None

Common

Equivalent of March 7th

Elementary School

The empath stood over his parents, tears welling up as he stared into their eyes. They stared at him in the same way physically, but the empath knew how they felt: betrayed and angry. He looked down at the gun in his right hand. The weapon that had mortally wounded his mother. He then looked at the gun in his left. The weapon that had mortally wounded his father. He then looked at the wounds in his parents. On his mother, the chest. On his father, the stomach. Blood ran out like a stream, and he winced, not able to fully block out the pain his parents were experiencing. However, the events of what happened flooded his head immediately after the wince, and he feel on the floor in tears, unable to control himself.

It was a trivial matter, not being able to go to a friend’s house for a party. The empath knew it, but his parents were acting very irrational about the matter, so he kept pursuing approval. His parents started getting angry at him, and threatened to take away his privileges until he respected his parents’ decisions more. While the empath looked in his parents’ eyes, as they were getting angrier and angrier at him, he decided what he was going to do.

“I’m going to my room,” the empath said.

“Come back down when you want to apologize for the way you treated us,” his dad replied, with his mother nodding in approval. The empath nodded back, still fuming from the argument, but smiling with obvious malice.

The empath went up to his room, where he stored his two Five-seven pistols. He took them out of their cabinet and loaded them, putting them into his holster around his waist. He took out his robe, and covered his holsters with it. He took a deep breath and walked out the door.

The empath walked down the stairs, robe on, guns at his sides, and script written. His parents noticed him coming down the stairs and walked into the foyer, arms crossed and smiling triumphantly.

“I guess you’re ready then?” his dad inquired.

The empath started to second guess himself, then he looked into his dad’s eyes and saw his dad’s triumphant look. He got the same triumphant look on his face while the anger from earlier flooded his mind. He looked his parents in the eyes.

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to do,” the empath said to his parents. He then whipped off his robe and grabbed for his two guns. He reached his right one first and fired at his mother, hitting her in the chest. He then reached his left one and fired at his father, hitting him in the stomach.

His mother staggered back and feel on the floor, looking at the empath with startled eyes and tears starting to well up from the pain. His father withstood the blow at first, looking at the empath with angry eyes and started to retaliate, but lost his balance and fell on his back, the pain hitting him at that moment.

The empath’s emotions wore off with his adrenaline, and his triumphant look receded, replaced with horror when he realized what he just did. Starting to tear up, the empath walked over to his parents. He looked at his guns and then at his parents, causing him to tear up even more.

“Odysseus, why?”, his mother asked with the breath she had left.

At that line, the empath fell on the floor in tears, unable to control his emotions. He didn’t know what to do. His parents were almost dead because of his power and anger issue. What would happen to the rest of society if he were to stay the way he is: a wrathful, selfish man?

The empath looked up and saw his parents looking at him. His father had a look of pure anger, his mother had a look of sadness. His mother mouthed the words “I love you,” to the empath, then fell over dead. The empath then looked over to his father. His father looked at his wife, then looked back to the empath. “You piece of shit!” he yelled. “You killed your mother! You have failed this family! Curse you! May the Lord look upon you as He may, but He will never look upon you with love.” He then fell over dead, leaving the empath’s sadness to himself. The empath fell over crying, but could control himself this time. He slowly stood up and walked to the stairs, looking back every few steps to his motionless parents. When he reached the stairs, he took a deep breath, knowing what he had to do.

The empath went up to his room. He opened his closet and grabbed his backpack, judging how much he could carry and what he needed. He then grabbed a few shirts and pants from the closet and put them into the backpack. He also grabbed his coat and put it on himself. He grabbed his wallet off his desk and put it into his pocket. He grabbed his pillow and put it in the bag, along with a sheet from his bed. He then said a final goodbye to his room, walking out the door in his room, down the stairs, and out the front door, pistols at his side.

The empath sent the greater part of four years living in the middle of the woods about five miles from where he lived. During that time, he bought an axe and made a crude, tiny shelter for himself and learned how to hunt and survive. All that time his dad’s words rang in his head. “Curse you!” “You killed your mother!” “He will never look upon you with love.” The empath became a recluse from society, scared of himself. The name his mother called him, Odysseus, slowly faded from his memory as his dad’s words drowned out all happy memories of his old home.