HISTORY & EXTRA INFO

Misfortune, luck of the draw, fate's cruel game... There would be many words that describe Raine's lonely entrance into the world. A baby left alone in a nursery room while her mother gasped her last breaths through the exertion of childbirth. Never able to hold her child for the first time before slipping into a coma, only able to mutter out a single word: "Raine." The father was called, he was to be the one to hold his daughter for the first time. He flung aside his badge, raced to get to the hospital... Only for the cruel forces of the world combined with the foolish human mind. He ran the red light... then was no more.

How could a newborn be sad? Upset for the lack of warmth, crying out for that sound she desperately wished to hear after leaving her warm heaven. But there was no familiar soft mumblings, that muffled comfort; only the gentle sounds of beings who pitied the child. Relatives were called until someone came, anyone. First it was the mother's father, a widower himself and wrought with grief. There was no happiness to meet Raine's ears until a few long weeks after she was taken to her grandfather's home.

Love was a scarcely said thing, comfort even rarer as the child looked far too much like the mother. She could see the hurt, the hope, the misery all combed into a ragged ball inside. Innocent eyes spotted everything. She grew up hungry for attention, for a warmth so wrongly taken from her. It was rarely given. She could remember the bottles as they clanked to the floor, the quiet hum of the television as her grandfather stared numbly into it, the sounds of a rocking chair outside when she became too much to face. Lonely. So very lonely... The other children all picked on and made fun of her, bullied her for her mixed blood and lack of parents. Then came anxiety as new of the rebellion spread, actions were taken; lives were lost.

It all became so very real.

She was fourteen when she became a reality that humanity despised or loved. Loathed by her peers, one child already extinguished from existence thanks to a single birth-mark-like name. It happened two years ago that did, the unease, the selfish whims... It only took a day for that child to get beat by their peers before they ran home. Rumors said a phone call from home was the last word from that child, an unknown person to Raine. They made it home but they weren't ever going to come back. How could they? The names were evil incarnate, freedom roughly grasped and shredding the thin velvets of order. Would that happen to her too? Swimming after school in the club, laughing with some friends and ignoring others. That laughter faded quickly, far too quickly; when everyone saw the name on her back.

Hurry. Run. Intensity. She was not beaten like the last but sent home immediately after. They told her grandfather harsh words, neighbors came and threw things at his home. Outrage. Many families there had lost someone to the rebellion, many more were involved closely one way or another. Fear. What was she to do? Her friends abandoned her, the teachers ignored her pleas, not even her grandfather could figure out what to do.

Why was it like this? Why, why, why?! She had committed no crimes, didn't bully the tough nor the weak! She listened to her teachers and did her work properly! How dare they cast her into the ground like this... Rage, cold fury. Raine twisted and morphed into something less innocent and pure and naive. Each curse sent toward them hardened her, each rock, bottle, or home-made bomb fueled her. They lost their house to such things, only able to escape temporarily to a friend's house. Traitor. Three days, three days of peace and they were sold out. They beat him to death, her grandfather. She was only saved by a mysterious group who arrived far too late.

A rebel group, or a part of it; had spread and appeared. They had come for whispered reasons, none of which they shared with the girl. She would never know, never learn the reason; only become adopted into the organization. A world where murder and the bodies of the fallen created the walls and floors of reality. She was fifteen when she became a Wraith.

She was little more than a pawn, something to be trained for murder. An item to be easily discarded when she was no longer needed. After all, the child had no connections, fame, wealth, or power outside of her cold emotions. Whether it was luck who finally took pity on her or some sort of karma that kept her heart beating no matter the danger of the missions. Suicidal, highly dangerous, public, and secret assassinations. Somehow she managed to fight her way through them, claw back from the grave where others were in too many pieces to do that much. She became a spy, learned from the survivors, concocted mysterious brews that stopped the hearts of more than one nameless mundane. A cobra perfected for treachery at Wraith's whims.

What was 'normal'? A storybook family, a fairytale with its happy ending? Raine wouldn't ever experience such a thing, her mother having passed away in the hospital shortly after the girl turned eighteen. But it wasn't the death that disturbed her, it was the realization that she felt nothing at the notice. Her existence had been bound by bloody chains with only her fellow Wraiths and the poisons in her pockets to be her only allies. Her heart froze, the beating sounding more like ticking clockwork than something of flesh. It was terrifying yet thrilling. And yet it seemed her parts would 'dull' with this false peace brought on by Selene Isle's little peace game.

She returned to the isle after a series of missions, when the Wraith was calming down and becoming smarter. Her loyalty and cockroach-like survival instincts with Wraith had created a stern ladder, an alternate ascension into the deepest depths of the sinful and corrupted. The mind was sharpened, the claws dipped with a silent poison... All ready and waiting for the day they would need to be put to use again. A day, which; she was sure would come soon. Keeping a clean cover she adopted a private detective cover in her latest years of life.