Name: Arnem Iribel
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Apparent Age: About the same, he was turned at 18.
Place of Birth: Geneva City, Genève, Switzerland
Species: Vampire.
Coven: Independent
Appearance:
Standing at about 5’11’’ and a total of 135lbs, Arnem doesn’t look like much at all. His limbs are thin and long, and his waist is a whole 25 inches at best. Needless to say, he’s quite the thin boy, and he has been his whole life. His back has several old and faded scars that haven’t yet been completely healed by his transformation.
His face is nothing special, everything seems plain and ordinary, although a little sunken, and topped with a messy tuft of blond hair there’s nothing really different about it. But his eyes, his eyes are a shade of blue so pure and icy that they appear to be the work of colored contact, but they have been that way since his birth. Many people find it hard, for some reason, to look into his eyes for long, but if they did they would discover a dark and demonic side to him that would never be revealed by his outward appearance.
History:
Born to the heir of a massive fortune, Alain Iribel, and his wife Véronique, Arnem was set to have quite the happy and prosperous life full of travel, expensive things, and the best education money could buy, all things that were happily showered upon him with all the love and affection of two very supportive parents. One would think that this sort of situation would turn a young child into a spoiled, arrogant brat, but one of the many lessons taught to him by his parents was to stay modest and to appreciate everything that life gave him. As soon as he could walk his father took him out to attend various charity events, exposing him to a side of life much different from his own, to keep his ego from getting too big.
Alain and Arnem were very close, on days when Arnem didn’t have school he’d go with his father to work, sometimes he’d even go on business trips with him to far away places, before he was ten he’d already seen most of the world and was the pride and joy of his business savvy father, life was good for the young French boy from Geneva City and everyone was happy.
In August of 1998, when Arnem was 15, his father told him he was bringing him on a trip to New York City, a place where Arnem had been before and Alain knew he loved. However, Véronique didn’t want it to happen; she had a bad feeling about this trip so she told Arnem he’d have to go with his father another time, causing much friction between everyone in the family. Alain felt threatened by his usually docile wife’s attempt to take charge, Arnem was angry with his mother for not letting him go, but through all the yelling in the Iribel house hold, Véronique would not change her mind, Arnem was not going to New York this time and that was final. So, angry with his wife Alain left for New York alone, promising his son he’d be back in early September, but he wouldn’t keep this promise.
It was about noon on September third when Arnem’s mom opened his bedroom door. The shimmering tears were quite evident in her eyes, and the streaks on her face made it clear that she had been crying for some time now. Arnem stayed still on his bed, watching his mother with questioning blue eyes as she slowly moved into her son’s room.
“Mom…what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Arnem’s inquisitive voice was so refreshing to Véronique, the boy hadn’t spoken to her since she refused to allow him to go to New York with his father, and now she was so relieved that she hadn’t let him. “Honey-” Véronique stopped herself, her voice cracked as she spoke; she moved slowly towards her son’s bed and sat carefully on the edge, her perfect posture seemed over exaggerated now that she was trying so hard to compose herself for the sake of her precious son. “It’s about dad…”
“Oh no, he’s not coming home today like he was supposed to? But he promised!” Arnem pursed his thin lips and rolled his eyes, he wasn’t really mad at his dad though, he knew he’d make it up to him later.
When Arnem said this, however, Véronique’s composure cracked, her attempt at staying calm failed and tears came bursting forth. She was a mess, sobbing so hard her whole body shook she covered her face with both of her long, thin hands and turned away from her son.
“Mom…?” Arnem sat up and moved closer to his mother, placing a hand on her back. She jumped slightly when she was touched and turned back to her son to wrap her arms tightly around his neck. “Mom, tell me what’s wrong.”
Véronique pushed herself to let go of Arnem and wiped her face on the sleeve of her expensive silk shirt. “It was just on the news…Swissair Flight 111…” Arnem recognized this flight as the one his father was taking home and a strong feeling of dread brewed in his stomach. He could taste the bile creeping up into his throat as he prepared himself for the worst. “It’s…it’s cra-” Again her voice cracked and she fell into a terrible fit of sobs.
Arnem didn’t believe it, couldn’t believe it, his father was his hero, he had learned so much from him and now what? He was dead? Just like that? No, that was impossible, it couldn’t be happening! Tears began to brew in his eyes and he clutched onto his mother, who in turn hugged him tighter than ever before as they both sat there for what seemed like hours, not moving, not speaking, only crying until there were no tears left to cry.
The next day they got onto a plane to Halifax, Nova Scotia, the place where the plane had crashed. They were going to stay with Alain’s younger brother Henri and his wife Juliet while they visited the site of the crash at Peggy’s Cove. They’d been there for a week before Véronique finally got up the courage and strength to actually go see the place where her husband died. On the ride to Peggy’s Cove, that seemed like it would last forever, Véronique asked if they could stop so she could buy some flowers, it was the first thing she said the entire time she was in Nova Scotia.
Finally, they got to the rocks and cliffs lining the ocean. Cameras were everywhere, snapping pictures of grieving family members, prying into the private lives of so many mourners and reaching new lows as far as many of the people there were concerned. The security there was ridiculous as well, military police, as well as RCMP were all over the place, attempting to stop the media from bothering anyone. Véronique, Arnem, Henri and Juliet all got through the cameras and the security to stand on a huge cliff, over looking the ocean in which body parts were still being discovered, and an intense investigation was being conducted to discover the cause of the crash. Véronique let her hand slip out of Arnem’s as she stepped closer to the edge of the cliff with her flowers. She held them out over the water and dropped them in for her husband, tears were pouring from her dark eyes when she turned around to look at her family “I’m sorry…so…so sorry Arnem…but I can’t do it.” Her words were strained and Arnem stepped forward to comfort her, but before he could reach his mother he watched as she turned to face the ocean “I have to be with him…” and with that she stepped off the cliff.
Arnem’s eyes grew wide with shock, he couldn’t even cry at this point and only screamed as if hearing his voice would convince her to change her mind mid fall and come back to him. He ran to the edge but felt Juliet’s arms grab him, he could hear her sobs and feel her tears on his face as she pulled him close to her. His arms reached out to the ocean and he screamed again as he saw his mother’s limp and mangled body being smashed by huge waves against the rocks below. But no matter how hard he struggled, Juliet would not let go of him, Henri quickly leapt forward to help and they pulled him away, his hysterical sobs echoing over the large rocks of the cove and drawing the attention of many news cameras, looking for a big story. Police officers and even regular citizens clamored over, unaware of what had happened, to see if they could help.
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It was decided that Arnem would live with his aunt and uncle in Halifax since he had no family back home that would take him. But Henri soon proved to be quite the unfit parent. He had moved to Canada after Alain inherited all of their father’s money and had spent years fuming over this figurative slap in the face. As a result, he tended to take out much of his anger on Arnem, who quickly turned to drugs to ease his pain.
When he turned 17, Juliet finally decided that it had gone on long enough, Arnem’s dependency on many different dangerous drugs had gotten to be too much to handle and he was sent to a rehab clinic in Quebec. After six months it was decided that Arnem was well enough to go home, but after arriving home he soon realized he wouldn’t be able to stay in Halifax. With the influences of his old friends, and the new and even worse abuse from his uncle, it was far too hard for him to stay clean and so after only three weeks he packed his things and moved to the city of Demaitre to live with Patricia, a friend he had met in rehab, and her strange room mate Matilda.
Finally, things seemed to be going right again. He was away from his angry uncle, he was clean and sober, had a nice apartment with Patricia, and a decent paying job. Although…Matilda was quite odd…she would always sleep all day, and disappear during the night, saying that she worked the night shift at “the factory” although she never said which factory, Arnem always just assumed she was a hooker, she did dress like one after all.
He should have seen it coming really, he new from experience that nothing good in his life could last long, and when he got that letter on November 1st,, his 18th birthday, it should have been a clear sign that something bad would happen soon. He was just getting in from work when he saw the mail on the kitchen table, there was one rather official looking envelope that caught his eye and was addressed to him. He quickly opened it and read it to himself, his jaw dropping as he did so. It was from his father’s lawyers; it would appear that he was now old enough to inherit his father’s entire fortune.
“What’s that?” Matilda was just coming out of her bedroom, stretching her tired muscles, when she saw the letter in Arnem’s hand. “More bills?”
Arnem looked at Matilda, her curly brown hair was a mess and her black eye liner was still caked on her eyes from the night before. She was wearing a huge over sized t-shirt that didn’t flatter her figure at all but he still found her just as strangely beautiful as always. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Arnem quickly retreated back to his room and locked the door so he could read over the letter again in private. Then he read it again, every word, and again and again until he eventually fell asleep with the letter in his hand, feeling like everything was right with his world again.
Matilda’s heels barely even made a noise on the hard wood floor of Arnem’s room as she paced back and forth with the letter in her hands, and in Arnem’s sleepy daze he didn’t even realize who she was “what…who…Matilda?”
“Wow…this is far from a bill Arnem…” Arnem shot up in his bed and looked at the door, the chain lock was still in place, so he looked back at Matilda with a dozy and confused look in his pale blue eyes. “You…how’d you get in here Matilda? And what are you doing with that? It’s mine!”
“I have my ways Arnem.” She pulled the letter away as a grasping hand reached out for it. “Why didn’t you tell us you were rich!? I could totally use you! And to think I was just going to kill you when I got bored of you!”
Arnem shook his head, trying to lift the haze from his brain, did she just say she was going to kill him? “What do you mean? Give that back!” Arnem got to his feet but Matilda easily pushed him back onto the bed.
“Oh Arnem,” Matilda laughed her tinkling, childish laugh. “Forget about the letter, would you?” She threw the piece of paper onto the floor and climbed on top of her naïve room mate. “I know what you really want after all.”
Arnem’s eyes opened wide as he felt the weight of Matilda on top of him. She lowered her mouth to his and kissed him so passionately he forgot all about the letter. He struggled against her for a second but she grabbed his wrists and forcefully lifted them above his head and held them tightly in place. “Don’t fight it Arnem! It’ll only be a second of pain, followed by an eternity of bliss!” Matilda smiled for the first time that Arnem could remember and he noticed her sharp canine teeth.
“What the fu-” Matilda hushed Arnem and bit into his neck, soon she was watching over him as he made his first kill. Patricia wasn’t even expecting it, and didn’t put up much of a fight, but it was still a sloppy kill. Matilda knew she’d have to teach him to be better than that, and she did, for six years now she’s been teaching him to embrace his new power, his new sexuality, but most of all his new fortune.
