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Victor Zsasz

"A person is never more beautiful than when in the throes of death."

0 · 262 views · located in Coventry

a character in “Infinite Earths”, as played by Hammocker


Real Name: Victor Zsasz
Alias: None
Allegiance: Independent
Sex: Male
Race: Caucasian human
Age: 32
Height: 5' 8โ€
Weight: 159 lbs

Appearance: Zsasz's face is a rectangular shape with gaunt cheekbones and slightly sunken in cheeks. His eyes have seemingly perpetual dark circles below them from a chronic lack of sleep. Formerly yellow-blond, Zsasz has shaved his head to make room for a dull red tattoo of an orb surrounded by wing-like markings. His right ear has been pierced, and he will occasionally wear earrings, usually taken from his victims. His back is covered in a similarly colored tattoo. Much of Zsasz's body is covered in scars of varying length, fashioned to resemble tally marks. Often he stands hunched, making him seem more stocky than he truly is. Only very rarely does Zsasz wear a shirt or shoes, and usually limits his clothing to a simple pair of black pants.

Personality: Nothing matters more to Zsasz than ending the suffering of others. In fact, nothing else matters to Zsasz aside from ending the suffering of others. He prefers to follow chosen individuals for extended periods of time, learning their habits, mannerisms, tendency, and quirks. When he feels that he knows his target well enough, he will wait until they are as alone as possible before killing them, usually by cutting their throats. To remember the occasion, he carves a tally mark onto his skin as a physical representation of the memory. If asked about a single mark, Zsasz can recount the knowledge he gathered on the particular victim associated with that tally.

Zsasz is, more than anything else, a predator. His mannerisms tend to reflect those of a beast more than those of a human. He will snarl, growl, or even snap like a feral dog if he feels threatened, and his speech can be slow and stilted. While he is no doubt brutal in his ways, some tenderness does remain in Zsasz, and may occasionally manifest. It is not uncommon for Zsasz to pet, nuzzle, and hold his victims as he murders them. He may also mutter macabre, yet honeyed poetry into their ears.

Goals & Ambitions: Zsasz intends to slaughter as many people as he can in an effort to rid the world of as much suffering as possible.

Abilities & Equipment:
Superior Strength and Agility- Wiry yet muscular, Zsasz is capable of taking down those unskilled in hand-to-hand combat with ease, and can hold his own against those with such experience.

Serrated Blades- Zsasz prefers knives above all other weapons, thinking them to be more reliable than any other weapon. He favors the serrated variety and usually carries at least one with him at all times.

Selective Superior Long-term Memory- Zsasz has close to perfect memory of what he has observed of each of his victims and can easily recount this information on command. This recall, however, does not apply to any other aspect of his memories. Zsasz has an only slightly above average memory when it comes to any information unrelated to his victims.

Business Management- While he almost never employs this skill anymore, Zsasz is very capable of running a business efficiently and profitably. Organizing people and resources would still be an effortless task for Zsasz if his urge to kill were to be suppressed for whatever reason.

Weaknesses: Zsasz is averse to wearing armor or even any kind of clothing, leaving his flesh exposed. Having a form of monochromacy that causes him to see the world in shades of red, Zsasz may be incapable of picking out certain color-based details in his environment. In his attempts to become personally invested with his chosen victims through stalking, Zsasz may allow more time to be discovered.

Personal History: Zsasz was born into wealth, his mother a freelancing computer sciences expert, and his father the owner of a successful business. While he had difficulty relating and understanding other children his age, he developed a very close relationship with his both of his parents which would be consistent throughout the rest of their lives.

Around the time he was nine, Zsasz was diagnosed with cone monochromacy. Unbeknownst to both his parents, his doctors, and himself, Zsasz was in fact capable of making out a single color, red, and its various hues. His vision was and remains completely tinted red. The symptoms resembled true total color blindness closely enough for him to to be effectively accommodated for his disability, but the diagnosis was nonetheless not technically correct.

Zsasz proved himself to be more than capable intellectually and showed particular proficiency in the understanding of economics. On the building blocks his parents had provided for him, he started his own company at 21 while he was still in college. At the same time, he entered the stock market, hoping to make money on the side. Very rarely did his decisions end up hurting his income, and his company had grown exponentially by his twenty fifth birthday. While his decisions could be ruthless when it came to the treatment of his human resources, Zsasz justified himself by pointing out that his ultimate priority was profitability.

At 28, Zsasz lost his parents to a freak boating accident. Devastated by the loss of the only people he truly felt any genuine care for, Zsasz fell into a deep depression. He turned to gambling, and, while he had been excellent with money in a more corporate environment, Zsasz turned out to have little luck in the casinos of Gotham. His habit continued for at least two years as his company broke down from the inside out and his personal finances, both self-made and inherited, were whittled away at. At last, he found himself at a poker table in the Iceberg Lounge, playing against one Oswald Cobblepot. Certain he could win and return his life to normal, Zsasz gradually bet everything he had left on this game. On the final hand, however, Zsasz found that his luck once again had run out, and lost to a straight flush conjured up by Cobblepot.

Alone, lost, and weeping, Zsasz wandered the streets for a while after that game, questioning his life choices. He find his way to one of Gotham's many bridges and looked over the edge for the longest time. As he was about to jump, though, a man approached him with a knife, and demanded his money. In a fit of rage, Zsasz was able to take the knife and drive it through the man's neck. The moment that he did so, Zsasz found himself feeling uncharacteristically satisfied, more so than he had ever been in years. He realized that, for all its thrilling sensations, life ultimately leads to more suffering than any other emotion. The most selfless action that one could ever do therefore must be the act of killing another, preventing any further suffering. His purpose renewed, Zsasz took the knife and sliced a tally mark on his arm as a reminder of the suffering he had removed from the world by taking a life.

Occupation: Professional criminal

Family: Mother- Irene Mallory-Zsasz; deceased
Father- Gabriel Zsasz; deceased

Additional Information: None

So begins...

Victor Zsasz's Story


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Character Portrait: Victor Zsasz
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Zsasz crouched in the corner of the dingy room he had chosen as the site of his latest kill. Places like these were holy ground in Zsasz's eyes, particularly just before they were consummated with the blood of a poor, miserable walking corpse. Such occasions that required long waiting periods in a selected area allowed Zsasz to lull himself into a trance-like state, neither a state of unconsciousness nor wakefulness. Only a peaceful, wonderful state of nirvana. As close as Zsasz would ever get to perfection before his time to be guided out of the world of the living came.

A heavy steel door swung open carelessly, pulling Zsasz out of his long held state of meditation. He blinked, focusing his vision in a dim light, and looked to the figure that had just walked into the room. There he was. Henry Thompson. 5' 7", 145 pounds, dark skin, green eyes, black hair. Exactly the way he had always been, shambling about with an unshakable frown highlighting his expression. And now, gloriously oblivious to the fate he was about to meet. He leaned down and picked up the scrap of paper that had been left for him, scrutinizing it with narrowed eyes. The cue to move.

Zsasz crept from the dark corner he had crouched in for what might have been hours towards the man, blade in hand. His fingers twitched. His heart raced. His head buzzed with the drunkenness induced by the successful ambush. He had to bite back an overexcited cry as he finally stood up from behind Henry and grabbed him. One hand covered his mouth while an arm snaked around his torso and constricted. Henry froze for a moment, but began struggling and making an effort to scream before the minute had passed.

"Hush. Hush." Zsasz muttered into his ear. "You'll be safe soon. Sh..." Wrapping one of his legs around the man to keep him still, Zsasz brought his knife up to his neck, and pressed it through the soft tissue of the side. He gripped around his victim's mouth tighter to muffle the increasingly intense screams. Lovely as the sounds of death were, alerting any possible passers-by to this exchange could be inconvenient. Still, Zsasz drank in the view of Henry squirming as the life drained from his flesh. A smile crossed Zsasz's lips and he pressed his face against the back of Henry's neck, catching the scent of his skin mingling with fresh blood. The man's weight fell onto Zsasz as he ceased struggling. Zsasz moved his left hand down to Henry's chest to better his grip. For the first time since birth, this man was at peace, and no one else could be more perfect than he. The last thing he wanted to do was let go. But, as with all of the best things in life, such moments must come to an end, Zsasz supposed.

At last, Zsasz slowly brought his victim's corpse to the ground. He laid the body on its back, and moved the still pliable right arm so thatthe hand rested over the chest. The left hand still gripped the paper, but Zsasz felt no need to alter that. Satisfied, Zsasz stood up and looked over his work. A smile crossed his lips. Henry appeared as though he was sleeping, eyes closed and head lolled slightly to the side. Perhaps he was at last living in a beautiful dream, away from the horrors that infested his previous state of being. The idea warmed the pit of Zsasz's stomach like nothing else could. Aiding others in achieving such a perfect state had always been a rewarding practice.

Though he would have liked to stay just a while longer, Zsasz had business to attend to, and his skin was beginning to crawl at the lack of a new mark for Henry's memory. Best not to make the cut near the body. Always the capacity for mess, and Zsasz had no interest in desecrating the newly established sacred ground. Besides, there was no need to leave a trail for any nosy types who would not understand his ways and try to make him stop.

Lapping in one last view of Henry's corpse, Zsasz turned and strode out of the room. One more dead, far too many more to purge of the plague known as life. There was far too little time in the world, Victor concluded, far too little to allow every person in the world the freedom that they deserve. Still, it was good to be helping the few that he could.