Augustin Zachary Carpathia

Human Life

I was born in Transylvania, Romania under one of the most powerful mafia families in the country. Raised mainly by my father along side my older brother Gabriel. My father runs a tight business of hitmen and I was soon thrown into that world of darkness. For my seventh birthday I was gifted a silver switchblade that had been passed down from many generations before me. From that point on I was taught to kill. At first it was small things. Rats, feral dogs, pigs. Mostly animals that were sent to die anyways. Though, my father quickly became impressed by how willing I was to kill, and how much I enjoyed it.

My life didn't completely revolve around killing. My family made sure I was well rounded. Music, languages, reading and writing skills, everything one would learn in a public school were all taught to me by my father's many employees. Unfortunately I wasn't the best in learning other languages, Gabriel far surpassed me in that. But I picked up music like I had always been playing. Violin was my instrument of choice, and later I learned to play guitar. I was ten when I played my first small concert in front of my father and a few other mafia dons he was having a conference with at the time. I was surrounded by powerful people and learned how to behave in their presence.

Soon after I turned twelve, I killed my first human target. She was a pretty thing, a spy from Russia who was trying to get information from my family. Father caught her red handed when she was digging through his files. He told me to have fun with her, and locked the both of us in a room where he could watch through the double sided mirror. That day was the last day my father made me kill pigs, as he saw exactly how I handled humans. It was so easy, how a child with such a fascination with blood could kill another human being. I chopped off her fingers first. Her screams were beautiful. I almost forgot my father was there for those few minutes. He told me to kill her, but I tortured her instead. Drawing pretty designs in her skin with the only blade I was allowed to use, my silver switchblade. By the end of her life, my hands were coated in her blood, it felt good. My taste for blood started with hers, it was too tempting not to clean the crimson elixir from my fingers with my mouth. By human story wasn't over, but my time in the light had ended there.

See my family had a dark secret. Not only did we delve in the human means of killing, but we were well aware of the inhuman variety as well. Demons, vampires, werewolves and the like were all known to us and we took measures to prevent ourselves from becoming vulnerable to them. One of my father's closest advisers was a powerful witch who specialized in wards to drive away any creatures who would wish us harm. Everyone in my large family had to go through this ritual of sorts to be better suited to deal with the supernatural.

My thirteenth birthday was spent preparing for this ritual, the same ritual that Gabriel had been inducted into. I was the more willing of the brothers, however. A Satanist's ritual, the bathing in blood of innocence to... Darken the soul. I killed my own sacrifice, a scared, young little altar boy from the church across the street. However, my ritual was never completed. It was interrupted by priests breaking in and disturbing the dark magics in place, and the blood that was spilled that night was spilled in vain. While my family had gotten away, I stayed. My rage towards these priests had me slashing bodies left and right. I was outnumbered from the start, but I had been too blind to notice this. They strung me up on a makeshift crucifix, cut my wrists deep and bled me to near death in an attempt to cleanse my already darkened soul. I was found later by my father, though with my ritual incomplete, I would never know the limits to my mortality, or if the bite of a vampire or wolf would turn me to one of them. Despite this I was tainted enough to be completely engulfed within the Carpathia family, and their secrets. I guess my mother was never around because she couldn't handle this. But it was no surprise that she had been the one who told those priests to assassinate me and my family. She was publicly executed while I was in recovery for my injuries.

As I grew older, my bloodlust did the same. By sixteen I was officially deemed a hitman for my family, and one of the most feared of the Carpathia line. By this point I had surpassed my brother by miles. Despite always being trained together through our entire childhood, Gabriel and I polar opposites. He hated killing, even though he had been given guns as a quicker option. I always beat him in sparring matches. And even excelled in general academics more than he did. Gabriel took to learning languages better than I did though. But I always saw his resentment for me building the more I was seen as favorite in my father's eyes.

I remember the day he disappeared for a while. Everyone had been looking for him, even father. We all thought he had been taken by another rival mafia, or even assassinated. Father grieved his loss for almost a month before Gabriel returned. Though, he came back different. Turns out he had been in kahoots with werewolves and came back turned. At that point he was disowned from the family and deemed unfit to be a prince of the family. He would never see the title of don even if I and all of my successors were killed. That fight he had with father was brutal, but in the end Gabriel left.

I continued with my life after that, and at eighteen I got my own place. Of course I still worked for my father, but now I was out in the real world. Within a few months I had made friends with some vampires who liked my killer streak. They took me into their group and I learned what it was like to be a sheep in wolf's clothing. A human who ran with the vampires. I gained a sort of supernatural sense through them. They gave off an aura that I seemed to be in tune with, and this helped me blend in with them better. I also met my right hand man Raziel. A fallen angel who desperately wanted to kill himself. I decided to take him in and give him things to do to distract him from his pain. First it was simply driving me around and being my getaway car, but he showed that he was an excellent keeper of records.

An Armenian by the name of Zander also caught my eye, it was as if my entire world stopped, and my pumping blood along with it. Our eyes met and everything went still, it was a feeling that I had never felt before and it was intoxicating. When I wasn't killing I was spending time with him, and eventually we started to live together under the guise that I had hired a bodyguard to keep someone else from hunting me. That didn't stop me from my job, however. Zander didn't like it though, but I wasn't about to cut ties with the only thing I knew. It was two years later that I lost the very thing I vowed never to hurt. Zander and I got into a fight one night and I got angry. Instead of allowing him to leave like he wanted to, I blacked out. When I woke up my loved one was on the ground with thirteen stab wounds in his chest. There was no way he would have survived even if I got him to a hospital, he died in my arms.

I decided to leave Romania and travel to America. I had already learned English, so it wasn't too hard to find my place. I still work for my father. He is given tips from an American insider, and I travel for the hunts. I've settled a bit though, deciding Chicago would be a nice place to stay a bit. Raziel came with me, and we've taken up a rather ritzy apartment complex. I've employed quite a few men and women to take on a bit of my work load, and do odd jobs for my family. Of course I pay all expenses that have to do with traveling and living.

Half Turned

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Hybrid Life

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Relationships

Zander
[Ex-boyfriend]

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SPOILER