Peter Mallory :Bio:

Man... Some of you will NOT remember him, but this dude, is one of my oldest characters. Like.. I made him close to the days I began on dA. ... Well, began making characters on dA.
He ain't 'the best', but I really sorta respect him. Probably from nostalgia.
God dang it. Peter.

Yeah, he's a bit different from what he used to be, but hey, my characters sorta evolve with me, I suppoce-//SHOT

''I guess I could write up his backstory and such.''
WHAT WAS I THINKING-//SHOT

* Bio*

Name: Peter Mallory
Nickname: 'Lord Douchebag'
Age: Died at the age of 22.
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Hetero

Relations:
- Crevan: Employer, only work related relationship
- Ace: Respectful Friend/Sometimes Partner in work, hardly meets outside of work
- Anahi: Nothing personal
- Dominic: Huge Dislike/Pain in the neck
- Luke: Dislike, does not act respectful towards him

Weapon: Gun Type Weapons, Smaller pistol weapons mostly preferred.
Race: Fallen Human
Personality: Calm, Short tempered, mischievous, curious, knows when to shut up, patient.
Likes: The smell of smoke, burnt toast, classic novels.
Dislikes: 'Spooks' (His nickname for 'Ghosts'), His Boss-, Ace's nagging, fire truck sirens.

Back story:
Many years ago, in another time era, young Peter was out with his friends, enjoying the drinks they had deserved after working so hard that year. The night was filled with laughs and smiles, as the drinks warmed up their cold bones and minds. While helping out a few of his more drunker friends back home, he noticed a lady sitting on the park bench alone. It was late, and the fresh snow fell down from the sky. She was dressed finely, but not enough to be outside in the cold. Not enough in his opinion. He handed the escourt job to his friends, and bid them good luck on their way. He crossed the icy street, and walked swiftly to the girl. He slowed down, as he got closer. Blue sad eyes that could have made angel's green of jealousy, and short brown hair that peeked from under her hat. Her gaze seemed to drift farther then he could see. He didn't notice how close he had gotten to her, untill she had turned to look at him. Her face wasn't beautiful, but humbly pretty. One of the prettier girls he had ever seen.
''... Are you alright miss?'' he finally asked. She smiled a bit, and nodded gently.
''I am fine enough, I suppoce.'' she answered him.
''It's awfully cold out here miss. Are you waiting for someone?'' he asked, and sat next to her. She didn't answer him, just turned to look affar once more.
''... I'm done waiting. He did come. But he came to tell me, that he was not coming for me anymore. That I should not wait for him anymore. He'll never return to my side. I am alone now.'' she explained. He felt like he had just walked himself into something that he was not suppoced to know. That he had re-opened a fresh wound.
''I'm... sorry to hear that. I did not mean to bring it back up. I was simply worried to see a sweet girl like yourself out in the cold like this.'' he appologized, feeling ashamed. Her gloved hand was gently placed on top of his own, as she gave him a slight smile.
''I am glad, that you came here. Having someone to speak with made me feel better.'' she assured him.
''... Then, I'll happily listen to anything else you have to say. I-If you want to that is- I am a stranger, I have no right to hear of your personal matters-'' he tried to explain, only failing on himself with each word. He groaned, as she giggled a bit.
''Then. Let us not me strangers anymore. What is your name?'' she suggested.
''...Peter. Peter Mallory.'' he told.
''Hello Peter. My name is Anna.''

Time went on, and the seasons changed. He grew closer to Anna, as they spended their days together. Anna was quiet in nature, even though she spoke alot to him. Her voice was soothing, and gentle. She seemed more eased when she was with him, but he could catch her drifting into her thoughts, before she'd quickly smile to him. He finally told of his feelings for her, to which she answered back same.

As they lived their lives as a couple, Peter began to notice a more... different kind of Anna then he had known before. She seemed very clingy and nervous with him. As he would leave to meet his colleagues, she would resent it, or plead for him to stay with her. He desided to be patients with her, hoping she would calm down, seeing that he was not going anywhere. Her obsession and paraoia seemed to grow worse, the longer they were together. She began waiting for his return, when he'd be out, even when he returned only late at night. Sometimes she would hide things from him, just to keep him from leaving. Her paranoia became worse as she would refuse to sleep, just to make sure he would not leave during the night. She was tired and hysterical. He would constantly argue with her, and trying to convince her that he was not going to leave her. He loved Anna, but Anna he knew was soon disappearing, and he was overwhelmed by everything.

''Where are you going?'' Anna asked, as he was putting on a jacket.
''I have work today, you know that.'' he answered calmly.
''Please don't go... Stay with me...'' she said quietly, as she had said many times before.
''I have to go Anna.'' he sighed.
''Let's just stay here. Together. Please.'' she continued, with out listening.
''Anna-'' he began, but was cut off soon, as something wrapped around his neck. It pulled back, cutting off his air, almost digging into his skin. He struggled to fight back, as his own love was strangling him with a thick wire. In what felt like mere seconds, Peter collapsed unconscious onto the ground, unable to escape his fate.

He had become a prisoner of her paranoia. Locked away in the cellar of their own home, chained to a single chair. Anna would visit him daily, telling him she loved her, as he pleaded to be let free. Time went by slowly and painfully. As she had quit feeding him, did he realize she had come to the fatal conclusion. Dead men never leave.
He grew weaker, and weaker, waiting for death. But as he waited, only crooked thoughts were in his head. He wished to kill the monster that was wearing Anna's skin. He wanted that one chance. Even if it was only for a moment, he wanted it.

Darkness took a hold on him, and he died alone.
''Wake up.'' someone commanded him. As he opened him, he was no longer in the cellar. He was still chained down, in a place filled with only darkness and nothing more.
''Where... am...'' he tried to ask, with a weak voice.
''Limbo. Technically between life and death- Or something... You're dead, but I'm keeping your soul here for a chat.'' the voice explained. A face appeared between the darkness, almost like emerging from dark water. The man's black hair was combed back, as two black horns crowned his head. His red eyes were surrounded by darkness, as they stared at him. He walked closer, wearing a suit like one of a dandy's.
''You're-'' Peter began, with his eyes widening.
''The Devil, yes, yes, can we move on? We're sort of running out of time, I can't keep you here for long.'' he rushed with introductions.
''What do you want?'' he asked.
''It's not what I want, it's what YOU want. You're dead, you're screwed. All thanks to your honey. So the question is, are you going to leave it at that?'' he explained to him.
''I do not quite understand.'' Peter answered. The chains seemed to get tighter as they talked.
''You don't have to die, Peter Mallory. You can come with me. Trade your eyes with me. Serve me, and you'll get what ever you desire.'' he offered, and lit up a cigar, as if it was a casual business meeting. Perhaps, if Peter had been the young man that he was, he would have accepted death's cold and harsh embrace. But he was no longer that. He was a tortured and pained soul, fueled with rage and anguish. No one did not save him, and now all he wished for was justice.
''So what do you say kid? Ready to sign up, or will you end your miserable life here?'' he asked, holding up a contract, waiting for his name. The chains dropped released him, and he was free to move. He stood up, and accepted the contract into his hands.
''Good choise.'' the Devil smiled, and took a ink pen from the inner pocket of his jacket. A swift stab with the end of his pen into Peter's chest, surprised him.
''Not meaning to be cliche or anything boy, but I don't have ink on me. Besides, blood is cheaper.'' he smirked, and handed him the pen. With out hesitation, he wrote down his name.
''Is that all?'' Peter asked, as the contract crumbled from his grasp.
''Final thing. I can't simply bring you to life as you were. It doesn't work like that. Your mortal body will not rise on it's own.'' he explained, as his eyes had changed into the same shade of Peter's brown eyes. He felt a metallic taste filling in his mouth, as a strange liquid over flowed from the corners of his mouth. He was drowning in blood.
''I gave your body my blood in exchange. Hopefully your soul won't get too rotten from it.'' the Devil smiled, returning into the darkness, leaving him alone. The strenght he had left was torn from him, and he collapsed on his knees, as the blood would not stop running. The shadows gathered around him, as the rest of his humanity was taken from him.

Finally, he woke in that damned cellar. His brown eyes had been traded in for the Devil's red. The chains broke off with ease, as he merely rose from the chair. He walked up the stairs, with his own chains in his grasp. Into the bedroom, he and Anna had once shared, where only Anna now slept peacefully. The chains slithered like snakes to her, and tied her down into the bed. She woke up shocked, and frightened as she saw him standing there.
''Peter...'' she whispered.
''I died alone in a dark and cold cellar, because of you. You abused me, and tortured me. You took away every hope and dream I had. I came back, because I had nothing left.'' he mumbled quietly, as the chains that had once imprisoned him, tightened around her.
''I didn't want you to run away. I love you....'' she cried, and struggled.
''... I suppoce, you got what you wished. Because I'm not going anywhere.'' he calmly told her. He lit up a match, and placed it on a neat stack of papers left on the bedroom's desk. It began as a small flame, but grew as it consumed more.
''P-Peter?'' Anna gasped with horror.
''You look cold miss... I was simply worried to see a sweet girl like yourself out in the cold like this.'' he mumbled to himself, while dropping more and more matches, as they set fire where they landed. As Anna screamed in her bedroom, he quickly made his way downstares, spreading the fire everywhere he could. He smiled as the house was burning down, along with everything else he had grown to hate. He walked calmly back to the bedroom, where Anna was still crying as the flames were taunting her. He sat down next to her, looking at her face as tears streamed down.
''You were possibly the best, and the worst thing that had ever happened to me in my life, Anna. I love you even now... I hope you burn in Hell.'' he wished her.

Their once lovely home had burned into nothing but ash, and it was concluded as a ''accident''.
But the night of the fire, a young man looked from afar, as the house was ablaze. His eyes shined back the flames, as he watched almost hypnotized.
''Are you satisfied?'' another man asked him, as he appeared by his side.
''...Satisfaction was not apart of the contract.'' Peter simply answered.
''Suppoce not. Come. There is work to be done elsewhere.'' the man ordered him, and turned to leave. He stood there for a few moments more, before turning his back to what was once his life.

* * *

Bla bla bla, he now work's for Crevan-//SHOT

*dies* Why did I deside to write so long- UGH-
Not really 'the best' back story, but hey. That's where he sorta just came from. Besides, his past ain't the main idea with him. Yeesh.
Atleast I got to update him now. *takes a break*

Peter (C) Me