Lilith Lumiere {D1 | FIN}

Rumors had that the moment she crawled out of her mother's womb and while being cradled in the arms of her father, she had split at his face and wailed so loud they had to recheck her for any unusual signs. Lilith had been a bitch since birth. And she had been the luster of her family for long. The second daughter of two fame-addicts, she was conceived in a battle of pride against other families. And, she was born as the pride of the family too. Sickened by the lashings of her older brother, her father and mother had wrestled between satin sheets again. She was made from the desires for an object that could be shown off to the others as a shining trophy, the light radiating from its surface so dazzling that it can be painful to the eyes even.



The result of these desires was a girl—but not a girl with mundanity flowing in her veins. She had never realized the substances that courses under her pale skin until she was 6 years of age. For children, it was the perfect time to explore their own leisure activities and but, she had already found one. It involved long strolls to the fences that cages district 1 as if the people were animalistic in nature and also, the shadows of the trees around. When she was sure that she had been concealed from the vision of others, she would fish out the lighter in her pockets and open the jar she brought along.



Then, she would watch them burn.



Then, she would giggle at their wings scorching and the hopeless flailing of their wings. She could figuratively hear the screeches and the screams of agony from them.



Her mother only considered it as a childish hobby when she spends the mornings in the garden with a net, catching the butterflies with an innocent grin plastered across her face. The insects would flutter their vibrant flies and struggle for escape in the enclosed jar, though it was simply a hopeless act. She took joy in jabbing her finger against the glass surface of the jar and jiggling the glass till a butterfly crushes its wing. Until the fluttering of the wings came into an end and then, she would fish out the dead butterfly and throw the tiny corpse to the spiders in the dilaptated alleyways of district 1.



They certainly don’t leave any remains.



This activity of her only strengthened her abilities. She was one of the top careers in training, ruthless in battle and taunting in vocal. Her parents had enrolled her into the training center ever since she was in the perfect age to grasp a sword. Then, she had made them proud. They would come to witness her training spars and she had always crushed her opponents—some of them being the offspring of her parentages’ rivals—and she had made their hands clap in joy. She was the jewel of the family, shining and distinguishable from others. They had frequently shown her off in events, in battles. Perhaps, someday, in the games even.



At first glance, she was not a force to be reckoned with. Dark ashy hair falls from her back like a waterfall, curls only visible at the ends of them. Each streak of it was pure silk, able to effortlessly slip out of her slender fingers when she rakes through it. The bony cheeks of her are glass, sharp and gleaming. Even though numerous freckles marked her face, it looked vicious in its own way. Her visage resembled the ashes from a dead fire, able to travel within the minds of others and choke its innards, arousing coughs and a stingy vision. The ashy skin seems to be rough through the eyes but through touch, it is revealed to be smooth and slippery as the scales of a snake.



She resembled a snake also.



Lilith was tall in length, despite being a teenager as of now. She stands like a palm tree, towering dogs and cats as her height extends to 5 feet 13 inches. The other serpentine features of her include her slender fingers which were swift enough to slap someone across the face in a flash and the slim physique of her, making her eligible to be able to sprint in long distances and shuffle without making a tipsy bit of sound.



But, nothing was more serpentine than her crown.



As of now, she was clear of the substance that crackles beneath her skin. It was a river of sins, twirling and coursing at every turn and flooding her every single second of a day. And, she feels alive when she is being suffocated by them. Perhaps it was the envy involved when she was conceived or the threatening comments her parents usually made when she was nothing more than a toddler. It was something that had been inside her that morphed her into the girl she is today. The careers in her own level feared, not her, but her voice. The melodic voice that is so persuasive that she can be a magical being and the twisting way she uses corrects word in correct times. The twisting method she is able to weave her words into meaning cruel things—cruel enough for people to recoil. The hissing of her words were toxic yet the peers groped for that toxic. She was enough to be called the personification of the word manipulator.



Lies were the oxygen she breathed and words were her main swords and shields.



But she was also known for her talented concealing skills.



It only surged out when she engages in talks with her parents. The theatrical grin that was too bright and energetic to be fake and the petite, sweet laughing voice of hers. The way her digits curled to hide her open mouth every time she giggled. If she wanted to, she could be an actress. Literally and figuratively, she was famous for two things—



Her cruelty and her artificial personality.