Appearance: [img=http://rs47.pbsrc.com/albums/f183/Void_Eclipse_Dream/Anime%20Boy/a3.jpg~320x480]

Name: Lewis Morte

Age: 17

Unique Quality: He can with touch of his left hand on someone elses flesh, take part of someones lifeforce, this has the result of making him more energetic and alert but also the person becomes more tired. 

Weakness: He suffers from post trumatic event disorder where fragments of a past he has forgotten had brought down guilt and sorrow on him from a very young age. Which affects him today. This means that he distrusts himself so often will wear a white glove on his left hand.

Also in his sleeps he increasingly often experiences horrific livid nightmares that only help to break his bond with sanity as he can not tell the difference between the real world and his nightmares.

Along when he sleeps, he will basically die, his pulse will flatline and he will be almost oblivious to outside stimuli. This has risks as people will asume him dead and could preform burial rights on him, like Cremation or simple burying him, leading to him suffocating when he awakes. He is not aware of this feature unless someone tells him however.

Extras(Backstory from his PoV)
I can remember the nights, the nights when I was left alone. Alone, shaking in my cot as the doctors walked past us all, they would choose one and that person would be taken, the nurses would smile and say they were being brought home. I had asked why I could not go back. 

I remember nothing of home, nothing but tears, smoke and death. Prehaps it had been a dream, no that was before. 

I remember my turn, I remember screaning and grabbing the bedpost. I remember the cool fiery needle being injected and my body going slack. The rest was just haze, I was tired, so very tired. So I slept.

I remember feeling feeling a hand touch my wrist, I remember the gruff voice comment "No pulse." and walk away.

I remember smoke, fire and noise, noise of lives being cut short. 

I remember coughing, sitting up and looking around, the man saw me get up and spoke to no one around him, I remember it confusing me. People all crowded me, I remember how they offered me water and told me not to move. Then once I was seen as okay, I remember the black gloved hand grip my arm. 

Now I am locked in here, I find company with all the things around me, They say if It never happened. I would be normal, I would be home.

All I have to keep me company is mere pieces of card with sketchs of designs on them. The doctor said that they would help me focus, so he taugh me to play with them. He won, he always won but it was for the time it lasted, enjoyable. Then he deemed me as a lost cause. Deviant. A freak. 

But I'm perfectly normal, there is nothing wrong with me.

I want to go home.