Announcements: Cutting Costs (2024) » January 2024 Copyfraud Attack » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Member Shoutout Thread » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newcomers » RPG Chat — the official app » Frequently Asked Questions » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Adapa Adapa's for adapa » To the Rich Men North of Richmond » Shake Senora » Good Morning RPG! » Ramblings of a Madman: American History Unkempt » Site Revitalization » Map Making Resources » Lost Poetry » Wishes » Ring of Invisibility » Seeking Roleplayer for Rumple/Mr. Gold from Once Upon a Time » Some political parody for these trying times » What dinosaur are you? » So, I have an Etsy » Train Poetry I » Joker » D&D Alignment Chart: How To Get A Theorem Named After You » Dungeon23 : Creative Challenge » Returning User - Is it dead? » Twelve Days of Christmas »

Players Wanted: Serious Anime Crossover Roleplay (semi-literate) » Looking for a long term partner! » JoJo or Mha roleplay » Seeking long-term rp partners for MxM » [MxF] Ruining Beauty / Beauty x Bastard » Minecraft Rp Help Wanted » CALL FOR WITNESSES: The Public v Zosimos » Social Immortal: A Vampire Only Soiree [The Multiverse] » XENOMORPH EDM TOUR Feat. Synthe Gridd: Get Your Tickets! » Aishna: Tower of Desire » Looking for fellow RPGers/Characters » looking for a RP partner (ABO/BL) » Looking for a long term roleplay partner » Explore the World of Boruto with Our Roleplaying Group on FB » More Jedi, Sith, and Imperials needed! » Role-player's Wanted » OSR Armchair Warrior looking for Kin » Friday the 13th Fun, Anyone? » Writers Wanted! » Long term partner to play an older male wanted »

0
followers
follow

Tyra Abernithy

0 · 316 views · located in The world

a character in “Bloodstream”, as played by stealthpanther

Description

Name: Zelda Abelard
Age: 30

Image

So begins...

Tyra Abernithy's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tyra Abernithy Character Portrait: J.T.M.
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Lifting the bottle to her lips, she closed her eyes as the burn traveled down her throat, taking with it a brief moment of feeling, of a deeper, more unbearable pain. Placing the tequila back down with a thud and a stisfying slosh of liquid, the woman gazed down at her desk, the papers strewn about in an order, a pattern lknown only to her.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, the little voice of her subconscious nagged at her for drinking while trying to look over a case. She ignored the smarter, well-reasoned part of her brain for the time being. Besides, she wasn't exactly on the clock, so technically speaking, she wasn't breaking any rules. She could drink as much as she damn well pleased.

Practically glaring at the files and papers before her, she scanned the collection for what realistically could be the five or so hundredth time. Every spare chance she got in between cases, she went back to the one that haunted her every waking hour. The one that gave her no relief at night. The one that lingered in the minds, brought teeror to people's hearts, and caused them to cast fearful eyes over their shoulders at every creak or sudden movement. She slowly and methodically appraised the timeline, searching for some clue she'd overlooked, some detail hidden.

Nothing. Not a damn thing.

Slamming her fist onto the wooden desk, the investigator dropped back down into her chair, teeth grit as she rearranged the items, putting a few away, and trying to sort through the limited information she had at her disposal, despite the number of victims. At the center of her morbid collage were three handwritten letters, and around those were any scribbled poems or notes found at the crime scenes.
In twenty years not a single usable print was ever found, and if it was a print, it was the victim's.

Another swig of the alcohol went down her throat before she scrutinized the letters. The papers were wrinkled from abuse and multiple attempts to crunch them to bits and be tossed, only to be retrieved last minute and unfurled to inspect and analize again. Tyra re-read each one, slowly despite the rush in her head, the curling of her stomach in disgust.

Shoving them away, Tyra willed away an oncoming headache. With a heavy sigh, she pulled a single photograph towards her, smiling sadly, wistfully at the smiling face.

"Sorry sis. Still nothing. I promise...I'll find this bastard....I'll find who did this to everyone, the one who did this to you." she whispered, placing the picture down lovingly in the only nice corner of her desk.

Not even five months ago she had been alive, going off to become a med student, to save lives. Now her little sister was gone, as well as her fiance. For a while he had been her comfort, her source of support. He tried to help her move on, accept her sister was gone and declare the case a failure, no one could catch Bloodstream. But she wasn't going to move on, how could she? A man who killed people everyday for twenty years? She couldn't give up!

They grew more distant, more terse, and finally he apologized, apologized and said he couldn't watch her go on like this anymore. With that perfect, gentlemanly, 'I'm not upset at all' smile that he used, hiding his frustration and his pity. It made her sad and sick. She had a chance at happiness, but she couldn't give up on this cold son of a bitch who took lives as easily as people popped pills or drank. And now it was gone, driven away by her need, her drive, her 'obsession' ( Carlos' words, not hers), with finding and catching the killer who evaded the law for twenty years.

Because of him! HE was the reason she lost her beloved little sister, he tore a rift in what would have been a beautiful marriage! And not just her, how many others had he destroyed? How many broken hearts did he leave in the wake of each victim? How many had he ruined with fear, despair, unreddemable loss? No, she couldn't let go! She growled at his accusations, his smug judgement of her judging him. He thought she'd end up in hell?

If it meant she would drag the son of a bitch down with her into the deepest pits of the inferno, she'd accept in a heartbeat.