This character belongs to Toxyca
Blair Kzamaryk
Title
Nightmare
Important Information
Gender
Family
Status
Eye Color
Hair Color
Height
Other
Affiliation
Weapons
Species
Home
Quests
Personality[]
Blair is a dark, troubled girl. After the traumatizing events of her youth, she was left largely hollow and emotionally distant from others. She rarely forms deep connections to other people, of any kind, and is often reclusive and hostile to those who try and approach her. In death, she is motivated by primal instinct, nihilism and hatred for most people, though on rare occasions her more innocent awkward curiosity about the world can resurface.
History[]
Blair was only six years old when she first saw a dead body. Not a preserved one, in a coffin - her Aunt Maxie had been cremated after the suicide two years earlier - but one that was ice-cold, with sunken cheeks and hollow eyes. She stumbled across it by chance while running away from her father during a community camping trip. A belt was lashed around the man’s throat like a dog collar that had been grown out of. It was hard to tell if that was what killed him, though - a knife was stuck into his stomach, and a coyote was messily chewing around it at the time. Blair stood still as the trees, the sight burning into some deep corner of her mind with every passing moment until the silence was broken by Mister Stanford from next-door. He shouted words she wasn’t allowed to say, and the coyote ran off.
Dalton Kzamaryk bolted to his feet in surprise, knocking his chair across the kitchen floor.
“Who the fuck are you?!”
The man at the top of the staircase looked equally surprised.
Her house was always full of noise and screaming and crashing, for as long as Blair could remember, and it only got worse when they moved. Some part of her had really hoped things would improve. A new place, a new school… Maybe she could make some friends for once. That’s what her mother kept telling her, anyway. But deep down, she knew it would always be the same.
Her father was an abusive piece of shit, and a new locale wouldn’t change that. Sometimes it would be alcohol that set him off about every little thing, but not always. He was just a worthless excuse for a human being. He would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night screaming and shouting about some nightmare he had - sometimes about getting chased by wild animals, or demons, or a million other things - and it would always start an argument. They had only been in the cramped new apartment two weeks before he belted her for the first time, all because he “knew” that she was “giving him nightmares with that stupid fucking tv on all night.” Yeah, because apparently watching documentaries on the Discovery channel while he was sleeping off a hangover (the only one of her interests he didn’t call either “Halloween trash” or “stupid kiddy shit”) made the nightmares her fault. Blair knew to keep quiet about the truth.
“What the fuck are you doing in my house,” the man replied incredulously.
“This is my house, you bastard! Did Elice not tell you she was married? Huh? I’ll kill you!”
At that, the man on the stairs clenched the railing so hard that the old wood almost snapped. “You think this is funny? I’m her husband, you prick! Get out of my kitchen!”
Dalton faltered, looking the man dead in the eyes for a moment. Then recognition finally dawned on him, and a chill ran down his spine.
Contrary to what her mother always said, Blair did have a few friends. She loved animals of all kinds, even if they seemed to be afraid of her all the time. And she had a few human ones too. She told her mother that she knew them from the internet, but the truth was a bit more complicated than that. She’d actually met them in her dreams. Of course, nobody would’ve bought that. Even she didn’t, for a while. Giving her father nightmares was one thing, but… meeting other people? Strangers from all across the country who were just like her? She was skeptical herself until one stopped by her house one day. How he found her, she had no idea - but it was nice to have confirmation that she wasn’t insane.
Unfortunately their meeting was pretty short-lived. They got half-way through a documentary about penguins, chatting on the couch, when her mom came home and kicked the boy out. For how much Blair was patronized by her mother for supposedly not having any boyfriends yet, it was telling how quickly her first potential one was thrown out and told to never come back.
Blair never really understood her mom. Each and every interaction was plagued by her mom’s constant air of depression and helplessness, and she always looked at her with such sadness in her eyes. It was obvious that her husband was ruining her life, and her daughter’s too, and she knew it. But she never did anything about it. Blair hated her for that complacence, and she knew that too. They could’ve packed up their things and left a million times over the years, and they never did. It’s not like they’d even be leaving much behind. Blair was convinced that her “father” wasn’t even her real dad. They looked nothing alike. But her mom would never give her a straight answer about that either. Her parents may be sexually active, whether her mom wanted it or not, but they’d never had another kid, despite her father’s constant raving about wishing he had a son. What if he was infertile? The best evidence Blair could get about her real father was that… thing… that would show up in her mother’s dreams, each night that she heard her crying from the other room. It would comfort her, every time, only to run away when Blair got close. The only nightmare she’d ever seen do that. Just another thing she could never get an answer about.
It was like looking in a mirror. Dalton staggered back, mind reeling. His hand grasped unconsciously around a kitchen knife in fear. “Who… Who are you?,” he stammered. “What do you want with me?!” The fake Dalton at the top of the stairs seemed none the wiser, still just as furious as before as he descended the steps with clenched fists. “I’m Dalton Kzamaryk, Elice’s fucking husband! Now get out of my house! I’m gonna call the cops, you hear me?”
“No! You’re… you’re not! That’s my name! Stay away from me! Oh god, stay away! Stay-”
He was cut off by a swift punch to the jaw. Another followed, sending Dalton sprawling across the floor. The fake stood over him with fury in his eyes. “You’re never going to touch my wife or my daughter again,” he said through gritted teeth.
Blair was sixteen the last time she saw a dead body. This one was different from the first. A lot younger. It was the boy who had visited her once before - the one that had powers like hers. It was in the back alley behind her apartment complex, instead of a forest, and this time it wasn’t a coyote standing over the corpse. It was a woman. A strange one. Thanks to the adrenaline, Blair managed to notice the woman’s furry leg before the figure approached, stopping barely a foot from her face and showing off a wicked smile. That’s all Blair could remember before instincts took over, and everything else that followed became an incomprehensible bloody blur.
When Blair came to, the woman’s furry leg was gone. One of her arms too. The bloody stump was covered in bite marks. The creature struggled to crawl away, only to cry out in agony as it succumbed to its wounds and dissolved into dust.
Dalton never got a chance to respond. He raised his knife to defend himself, but the impostor ripped it from his grasp and didn’t hesitate to plunge it into his stomach.
“I said, you’re never going to touch them again. Got it? You’re never going to touch them again! You’re never going to touch them again!”
The knife rose and fell with increasingly savage brutality while the fake Dalton shouted the words like a mantra, expression growing wild. “You’ll never touch them again!”
Blair ran home and slammed her bedroom door shut behind her. God, what just happened? Was that real? Was he really dead? Oh, god, he’s dead and that woman just dissolved right in front of me. No one will ever believe me. They’ll think I did it.
Blair heard her father storm into the room, probably mad that she slammed her door or something, but it barely registered. She fell onto her bed in tears, unable to think about anything other than what she had just seen. Gradually the yelling transitioned to beating, but Blair was already numb to that kind of pain. She couldn't shake the sight of her friend's corpse. Her father's beating went on for what was probably hours. Her refusal to acknowledge what he was doing to her body just seemed to piss him off even more. It only ended when he forced himself on her, and her mother finally snapped and tried to stop him. It was far too little, Blair thought. Too late. Somewhere between the shock and the trauma and the pain, Blair succumbed to unconsciousness.
“You’ll never touch them again! You’ll never touch them again! You’ll never touch them again!”
Blair drove the knife into her “father” over and over, tears streaming down her face. He couldn’t see them, but that was fine. He didn’t need to. He would get what he always deserved from the start. He screamed in agony and terror, begging her to stop,but she didn’t relent.
“You’ll never touch them again! You’ll never touch them again! You’ll never touch them again!”
In the real world, he would’ve died by now. But this world was hers. She could hurt him for as long as she wanted - make him pay for everything he had ever done to her.
“You’ll never touch them again! You’ll never touch them again! You’ll never touch them again!”
Time held no meaning in this place. An hour of sleep could be an eternity of nightmares. Blair stabbed and stabbed until her mind twisted, and when the satisfaction of the stabbing started to fade, she took off his belt and beat his crumpled form with that, repaying him for every time it had hurt her. When her arms grew tired, she tied the belt around his neck resorted to her teeth, biting away at him with increasingly sharpened fangs, punishing his flesh for every time he had defiled hers.
Time held no meaning in this place. There was no telling how long his torment lasted. By the time her rage had quieted and his spirit passed, Blair was no longer human. In this world, she never had to be. In this world, she could take a truer form. And she would never have to go back.
It took forensic scientists months to find an explanation of the deaths of the Kzamaryk household thorough enough to tell the public. The crime scene had been a mess. A boy from states away was reported dead nearby, seemingly killed by human bite wounds, with no discernable reason for being there. Elice Kzamaryk’s body was found haphazardly buried in the woods with evidence of death by blunt trauma. Her daughter, Blair Kzamaryk, was also buried nearby, suffocated without resistance. Both bodies showed dna evidence of assault and rape by the husband and father, Dalton Kzamaryk, who had by all indication died of a heart attack in his sleep that same night.
Four dead bodies and no answers to be found. There is no happy ending to this story. I’m dead. I’m not coming back. But why would I? I never had a funeral. There was no one to cry for me. And honestly? That’s fine. I prefer it here. I belong here. And I’m going to stay here.
You know where to find me. I know where to find you.
Powers[]
Passive[]
- They have the ability to disappear at will, they can choose who to reveal their presence too, with the exception of Thanatos, Melinoe and Hades kids, who can see them regardless
- They can sense if someone is evil or good
- They are stronger at night, in the presence of Melinoe children, as well as the place where they died
Offensive[]
- When they scream, humans in the basic vicinity freeze at the sound, or run in fright
- They can possess humans for a short period, but they cannot use this power to harm the possessed, the longer they maintain the connection, the more they are drained, if they remain within the possessed for too long, they'll need to recharge before becoming visible again
Supplementary[]
- They have telekinesis, moving objects with their minds, the larger the object or the longer the keep it within the air, the more energy that is drained
Weaknesses[]
- They cannot be hared by most weapons, with the exception of silver and magic, which can cause their visible form to temporarily be disintegrated, until they have enough power to reform and appear again
- They can only appear in places they once went when they were alive
- When their energy is drained, they disappear to recharge, the longer they try and interact with the physical plane, the more energy that is drained, and the longer they will have to remain invisible to recuperate.
Traits[]
- Because they are ghosts, they are intangible