InsaneJournal

User:

born_a_disease (277483)

You keep telling yourself that things will change.
That it's all a bad dream and one day you'll wake up.

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Name:

Francis Hamilton

Website:

I won't hurt you

Bio:

NAME: Francis Hamilton
FANDOM: The Hamiltons
AGE: 17
Classification: Born Vampire (He is able to eat food, go out into the sun and seem completely normal to those around him. He has a heartbeat, a pulse, but is slowly going insane without blood. He has heightend senses, a longer lifespan and strength surpassing that of a human.)
ALIGNMENT: Neutral
SEXUALITY: Bisexual
PB: Cory Knauf

BACKGROUND:

"We live with a disease. Mom used to say it was the one thing that kept us close. I always thought it would be the one thing that keeps us apart. But I was wrong, and everything you thought you knew about us was wrong. We live in the houses next to you. We work in the stores you shop at. Our kids play with your kids. We're just trying to be an ordinary family. Trying to figure out where we fit in, in the world. But we do need blood, and we need a lot of it."

They were vampires, but they were nothing like what was depicted in the movies, in books, or in poetry written by angst-ridden teenagers looking for a fantasy to escape into when they had nothing else that would accept them. Francis was the second youngest, born into a loving family with three older siblings, a mother, a father and a farm with enough space to keep them all content. He was born with the disease, just like every other member of his family. He was born a monster, kept hidden from the world until he was six years old, for babies and small children are without control. They can’t understand why they can not latch onto the mailman with their mouth and take the blood that they so crave. They don’t know that biting and killing a playmate will get unwanted attention. They can’t possibly understand, just like a toddler who doesn’t understand why the dog bit him for pulling it’s tail.

Kept in a basement room, locked away from the world and the people whom he could destroy, Francis was fed animal blood by his parents, who had enough self control that they didn’t need to murder humans to satisfy their hunger. Living on a farm provided them all with what they needed and at a younger age than most, little Francis was let out of his confinement and introduced to civilization. He was clever and smart for a boy his age and could understand why he needed to keep himself in line. A sensitive child from the start, Francis was happy with the animal blood, with his mother, his father and older brother David. Unlike the twins, Darlene and Wendell, David was soft spoken and never once took advantage of him because of his young age. He can no longer count how many times Darlene locked him in a closet for hours, only so she could hear him panic and scream and then let him out, pretending that she had been his savior all along. A demented but caring sister, she had always been. He preferred David.

At ten years old his mother gave birth to another child, a boy whom they named Lenny. Just like all the rest of them, Lenny had to be hidden from the world soon after birth. As with the brothers and the sister who came before him, Lenny was unlike any human baby. He was dangerous, with a snapping mouth that snarled constantly with hunger. He only took comfort in his family, in his mother’s warm, maternal embrace, like Francis had when he was his age, and even then, at ten.

He was fifteen when his parents were killed in an accident. Devastated, Francis began to pull back into himself, becoming distant and moodier with every day that passed without the control and level headedness that his parents had ruled the family unit with. As the oldest David took control, but was unable to bring in enough money for them to keep the farm, which resulted in them packing up and moving. Homes and towns never lasted. David, Darlene and Wendell went rabid and wild without their mother and father to keep them at bay. They slaughtered and fed from humans, chaining them in their basements, bleeding them dry like doctors and nurses taking blood. They kept it in the refrigerator, as if it were Gatorade or lemonade, anything but blood. Kenny was kept in his own room, restrained in that same basement, where they fed him, where he snarled and knocked demandingly against walls and the door.

Francis always told himself that he would never be like them. He hated when they made him feed his little brother and never once would he accept the human blood they Slyly waved in front of his face. He wouldn’t be a murderer, wouldn’t take nourishment from a human being who had to suffer in order to feed him. Without any sort of blood Francis was a shadow of who he used to be.

As soon as the wrong person was killed, somebody who had family or friends that would notice them missing, the family moved once again. It happened often and it was usually always Darlene and Wendell’s fault, the twin lovers who did what they wanted. David tried to act like his old reserved, happy, nitwit self, but they all saw that he was untamed like the other two, bringing home homosexual lovers, killing them and then burying them in the basement, in the backyard. Francis no longer looked up to him. He was a monster too.

At night he could do nothing but lay in bed, listening to the screams of his siblings’ victims, trying desperately to drown it all out but never succeeding. He took his video camera everywhere, filmed his dysfunctional, murderous family and their captives in the basement. He skipped school often, followed David to his job at the slaughterhouse, filmed in secret, went back home, filmed some more. Wendell came to think of him as a sissy, a weak kid who might destroy them all if he was stupid enough to expose their abnormal habits. He told him more than once that he would kill him if he came close to putting their family in jeopardy, so when he found Francis secretly visiting, comforting and feeding a girl in the basement, he beat the shit out of him, stuck his hand into Lenny's cage. Lenny, despite Francis begging him not to, bit down.

On the floor of the basement, bleeding and ashamed of his state, he wished that he was somehwere else, somewhere where Wendell wasn't standing over him, a cocky, deadly bastard. Where did he go after he finally regained his composure? Who did he attempt to get comfort from? David, of course, David, who offered nothing and sent him home.
_______________________________________________________________________

((Not Real. This is for a role-playing game and should not be taken to be anything but fiction. Francis is not mine and neither is Cory. Don’t sue. Word.))

Schools:

None listed

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