[b]Name:[/b] Creed, the Reaper

[b]Age:[/b] 23

[b]Gender:[/b]Female

[b]Species:[/b] Human

[b]Most experience killing:[/b] Humans and Vampires

[b]Skilled with:[/b] Everything, and anything that is projectile, or can be thrown, or shot. She also uses knives, but isn’t as skilled with those as she is her marksmanship. 

[b]Appearance:[/b] Rather short, 5'6 to be exact. Her skin, the average tone of a caucasian. Creed’s body is thin, but ripped. Her hair, cut by herself with her knife, is black, and stops at her shoulders. Her eyes are brown, and quite large. She has a short, sharp nose, and semi red cheeks. Her jaw, wide, her chin, short, her lips, full. She wears a long, black coat, and brown, leather boots. She has a flintlock rifle around her back, covered by her coat. She wears a rosary around her wrist, and a cross engraved into her hand, and in her rifle. Her face, not spotless. She has a mole beneath her right eye, on the side, and a scar running down her right cheek, down through her mouth, stopping at her chin.

[b]Backstory:[/b] She was born a whore's daughter, and raised in a brothel in underground London. Her mother, often bedded by other men, was very loving towards her daughter. She taught her to be a woman, not by the standards of society, but a strong woman who subjects to no one. She was educated through one of her mother's clients, who often left her books to read, and writing paper if she was in need. The brothel was found, and shut down, leaving the prostitutes without jobs; this occurred when she was the age of 12. Living on the streets, her mother found a man to take them in, only this man was an insolent pig, who drank his days away, and gambled the little money he had. The man would often beat the mother, and this went on for years. Eventually her mother snapped, and instead of getting revenge, she tried taking her own life, in which she was unsuccessful. The daughter was in rage. She took a knife, and an alcohol bottle. She went to the man, expecting alcohol, and smashed the bottle against his head. Amidst the rage, the daughter stabbed the man, 27 times in the chest. She left him there, and took her mother into the countryside. She stole a farmers rifle, and began practicing her marksmanship. She was a natural born marksman; within a few months, she was able to hit birds from the sky, and heads from long distances. She was now an assassin, and a good one too. She killed for her mother, dying from a sexually transmitted disease, to buy her medicine. When she died, she killed for herself, and she enjoyed it. She had a contract with one of the royal families in England, and she was assigned to kill a man and his wife. She still has her morals, and she won’t kill kids. So not being immoral, she asked why? And the head of the family said, “Because they killed my son.” So she accepted the job, and trekked into the woods to find the couples cabin. She went inside, and she saw the two. She shot them both in the head, or she thought. Both of them dodged the bullets, and the wife of the couple slashed her in the face. Such power, and speed. This was the first time she was truly terrified. If not for running outside in the sunlight, she surely would’ve been a meal. She went back to the head of the family, confronted him, and shot him in the face. She exited the house, and burned it. As the house burned, she thought, If the supernatural did exist, then that means Huffingham is no joke. She never wanted to feel that sense of hopelessness ever again, so she gathered what little she had, and looked for Vampires to kill, eventually leading her to find and join the Ruby Edict.