Scarlot's Past is Sketchy at best... even to herself... for what she remember's is but a brief dropplet of blood that seeps from a wounded beast... awaken within a small house decayed and decrepid... that sat within a town deserted defiled... wich stood upon the borders of a country that she knew nothing of..
she knelt upon the putrid dirt left decomposed and poisoned by the air around her...the Shack in shambles... And the very foundaries of Rotted Plankts and Rubbled Mortar the only things left... Her arms held tightly a Foul Reeking Corpse... Decomposeing as it decneded into Ash and marrow... Her Clothing... Blackness... Void... as if she belonged to the night itself...now it remained.. Stained with splatters of filth and grime of wich she wished not to fathomecould exist... As one cold hand rested upon the remains in her lap... her other clutched at her chest as her face tilted towards the moon and in its Fullness it shown down between the decayed remains of the shack... upon her faceand as her closed eyes weeped...Warm tears of scarlet blood streamed from them, down her cheek as they flowed...
Wipe as much as she could... these tears did not slow or stop but trickled like a mountain stream... and it was not untill she opened her eyes..that the blood ceased to seep...and her eyes... Dark, Deep they Glowed and pulsated with an aura of Corrupt and Foulness gazed about the world around her in a deep rich scarlet colour... but each time her eyes closed... the blood once again seeped...and Curseing allowed into the Cold Bitter Breeze wasthe last she remembered of a time wich was lost...wich seemed more of a dream... a nightmare...of a past.. one in wich she could not awake from... but knew existed
Within the Days... Wandering around like the walking dead...Scarlot found powers that bewildered her...powers that moved her and inspired her... She grasped these powers for her own.. and used them... in manners best not described in text...She became known by most as the Scarlot Witch... or the Bleeding Eyed Witch... Someone you wished not to meet in a dark alley... but in fact she was nothing more then a child... lost in her own power and thoughts... unable to determine between reality and the dreams... She cursed and chanted... Sacraficed...defiled and corrupted... all in the name of someone she had never met... someone she didnt know... all for a past she could not escape...
Within time her hair had been stained with the blood of many... and she wore her own blood as lipstick so those thatgave their lives to retain her beauty may know the taste of true power as she gave to them their final kiss...Of course... not everything is as it seems... and some stories are mere legends... some even tales of granduer... but becarefull when your walking at night alone... a chilling breeze on a moonlit night... you never know who you will cross on your path...