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 Doctor John "Sorrow" Yeovil

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Cacklad

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Posts : 8
Join date : 2013-04-26
Age : 40
Location : Milton Keynes, England

PostSubject: Doctor John "Sorrow" Yeovil   Wed May 08, 2013 8:40 pm

Profession: Medical Doctor
Age: 34
Character model: Professor MacDougal

John Yeovil Jr. was sent to medical school by his father, completed his degree uneventfully and went into a quiet country practice deep in the Yorkshire moors where he spent many happy years tending to local ailments, delivering babies and helping ease the passage of the elderly into the next life.

One night a man was brought into his office with severe wounds, claw and bit marks covering his body. He was an American and had apparently been visiting extended family in England when he was attacked on the way home from the local pub. (That’s like a bar, but with a greater range of ales).

John battled to save the man’s life but he eventually succumbed to the massive blood loss he had suffered – he had had his throat almost completely torn away, his left arm was missing and his chest had a huge, zigzagged gouge ripped across it.

With the man’s last breath he tried to speak but blood just gurgled from his wounds. John leant down to try to hear what the man was saying, speaking calming words of his own into his ear. At that moment, as the man’s body was wracked with his dying convulsions, he lurched forward and clamped his teeth on the doctor’s neck, biting down as hard as his blood drained body could manage. He barely broke the skin, just enough to draw blood, but still some of his life’s fluid mingled with John’s. The doctor leaped back and the mysterious man fell back on the table, dead.

In his autopsy report for the local police John was forced to conclude the man was a victim of an animal attack. When asked what animal he touched the bandage at his neck, shook his head and simply said “I don’t know”.

The police refused to believe an animal of such ferocity, size and power could simply not survive in the area without making itself known. There had been no reported attacks on livestock, or people, prior to or in the days following the death of the American. Any animal, obviously carnivorous, of the size required to make such wounds on a man would need to eat, and therefore hunt and kill, regularly and there was no evidence to support this. They concluded that the attack must have been carried out by a man and made to look like it was an animal. They went looking for the man.

Before long they had a suspect – another American, who had arrived in the area shortly after the victim; a man that had been seen in the company of the victim, a man that had been seen acting suspiciously and a man that disappeared soon after. Rumours were that he was a violent criminal from the Wild West and the man who was killed was a bounty hunter on his trail but these were dismissed by the police, seen as the fancies of bored townsfolk who had been reading too many penny dreadfuls.

A month later and the leads had dried up, the police had gone back to sorting out drunk and disorderliness and John woke up in a ditch covered in blood.

He stumbled home and cleaned himself up. All he could remember from the night before was a pint at the pub and then a quiet walk across the moor towards home… then nothing. He wracked his brain for details, eventually drifting into a daydream like state. He had vague recollections of a fight breaking out, rumours being flung around of a young girl’s honour being stolen and a tearful father being dragged away by his sobbing wife while the town’s wealthiest landlord laughed along with his henchmen. The whole scene played in his mind like a dream, a glow coming from within the accused man, shining brighter as his mocking of the father increased. As the pub door slammed behind the broken man the glow flared with the light of the sun and abruptly cut off, John jolting in his seat, suddenly awake.

A banging came from outside the office and the doctor stumbled to his feet, opening his surgery door to two police officers with a bloody sheet at their feet. Lifting it with difficulty they carried it to his operating table and pulled the stained cloth aside to reveal the torn carcass of the landlord, throat ripped out and a gouge torn across his chest…

3 Months later and John Yeovil steps off a boat onto the shores of America; 3 more men have died in this time, 3 more men whose lives were followed by rumours of wrong doing and 3 more men who were found with throats torn out and bloody wounds carved in their chests.

In this time John Yeovil has read a lot of books on Lycanthropy; as a man of science he should not believe that such things are possible. In this time he has woken up 3 times covered in the blood of other men; as a man who believes in what he can see he knows that what he does see cannot be explained by science alone. In this time he has seen men glow from within many times, and he knows they are evil. He cannot explain it, but also cannot resist the urge that comes when the full moon shines bright to find these men and end their lives. In this time he has run from the law and left his old life behind.

He remembers more and more of his time in the other state with each full moon… he is starting to think he can control the change but he needs to know more. He wants to be able to stop it; he wants to stop seeing the light that shines from those with evil in their heart. It pains him to see how many of these men there are, knowing that he cannot stop them all and that all he wants to do is return to his quiet life. He wants his curse to end…

John knows that the bite from the dying American passed something to him. He researched long and hard, spending all his money to follow any rumour he could find, something to tell him who this man was, and who might have killed him, something to tell him what this curse is and how he might stop it. He has been disowned and cut off by his family, their quiet, studious son becoming a deranged obsessive in their eyes, talking of nothing but curses and cures and the evil all around.

His trail led him to America, and deep into the Mid-West, where the men were from. The rumours of them being bounty hunter and quarry turned out to be true but at this point the trail grew cold. John found himself with no money, no supplies and lost – he had no friends in this land and his curse had led him far away from men, where he would not have to suffer seeing the glow of evil and wake in the blood of another. One night he finally lay himself down, his strength all but gone, and hoped he would never wake.

He did wake, in an Indian village, washed but tied down to stakes set deep in the ground. He struggled to free himself but was too weak. Looking up he saw the full moon on the rise and knew the Indians knew what he was.

The next morning they entered his tent, cut him free and fed him. He was weak from the change and hadn’t fed, his body consuming energy in the transformation and needing food desperately.

They knew why John was here. They knew the man who had turned him and they knew the man who had carried out the first killing that had started the tale. The Indian chief told John of men who became wolves by night, some destined to kill and carry out terrible crimes, some destined to find and eradicate evil. The type you became was determined by the man you were before, John was a good man at heart so he saw evil and had been chosen to fight it; it was a curse, yet it was also a gift.

John lived with the Indians for 4 years, learning about his power and learning how to control his changes. He had many opportunities to find evil men, even though he avoided civilization, as there were always those looking to exploit the red men and kill and steal their land. He came to see himself as their protector, although he always dreaded seeing the glow on those who rode into the settlement, knowing that pain would soon follow for both parties. He learnt to control the change so he could take his new form whenever he chose, yet the pull was always greatest when the moon was full. He learnt other ways to protect himself and his own, shooting and knife fighting, and how to hunt, so he would only need his gift for the most dangerous of foes. He took a wife from among their people and made a new life. He was happy.

John was in the local town trading for supplies when it happened. He returned to find carnage in the settlement, the sort of carnage that only one such as him could cause. He stood and stared at the torn remains of his adopted people, at the remains of his wife and he howled his rage at the sky…

John and the few tribes-folk that had survived buried the dead and performed rites of vengeance.
The new chief looked into John’s eyes and saw nothing but sadness, not only for what had come to pass but for the future. A future where he would know only death and pain as his curse consumed him and he sought vengeance against the shape-changer that had followed his trail to the camp as it had followed the bounty hunter onto the moors all those years ago. If he could not escape the evil in men then he would feed on it instead – he would fulfil his destiny and carve his vengeance across their hearts.

John shouldered his rifle and sniffed the air, the trail was weak but to him it burned like the heart of a star. The chief, bloody markings daubed on his face, put one hand on his shoulder and said, “To us you are no longer John Yeovil. To us you are now simply ‘Sorrow’”.

The English doctor who could see the evil inside man turned without a word and walked slowly away. There was a town just over the hills called Armadillo. It seemed a good a place as any to start looking…
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PostSubject: Re: Doctor John "Sorrow" Yeovil   Thu May 09, 2013 10:28 pm

This is brilliant. There's no other word for it. Your character is astounding and I can't wait to see how this plays out. I'll be sure to try and enforce cinematic rules so you don't get liked off for no reason. Wonderful job again.
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