Carmen Ayala

Carmen Ayala
Carmen is a modern vampire living in Seattle, Washington. She works in the human trafficking trade.

Personality
Carmen is just another one of those mysteriously ambiguous people one meets in bars between midnight and three AM; the kind that could be male or female, ghost or girl next door. But even below the surface, the feminine and the masculine are in perpetual conflict and Carmen's body is the battlefield. As a rule, she never shows her emotional side, but her judgement can sometimes be swayed by her heart, and because of inner conflict she is neither a good confidante nor a fair judge.

Having never been to school, intuition keeps her alive in the absence of cultivated intelligence. Her keen ability to read a situation before becoming embroiled within it sometimes suffers from the rashness of her judgment and her thirst for bloodshed.In part due to her cruelty and distrust of everyone she meets, she has very few friends. She often uses her dry and vicious humor to keep others from seeing her bitterness and her dissatisfaction.

Her stoicism and her "stiff upper lip" are a sign that she considers painful experiences to be learning experiences. She learns a little from everything she does and from everyone she meets. Her sire has played the biggest role in making her who she is today, encouraging her to give in to her exhibitionism, her desires and her selfish disregard for the well-being of others. Though she won't hesitate to act fearlessly, his is the only good opinion she is afraid to lose.

History
In 1940, Cuba had free elections. In 1940, Batista was elected into power and enacted major reform. The country showed signs of achieving true independence for the first time in decades. But in the slums of La Havana, Carmen's mother still sold herself to make enough money to feed her children. The clientele had changed, sure, and she didn't handle American money like before, but Carmen still grew up washing Mama's sheets clean of blood and cum. It wasn't a pretty childhood so she's made a point to forget most of it. Of what she still remembers, the smell of oranges is most powerful. Her mother used to peel them on the balcony in the evenings, right before putting her to bed.

She remembers the pimps and the neighborhood boys shouting things at her from the other side of the street. She remembers the scrape of the pavement against her knee, the taste of vomit in her mouth and then her mother's silence when she dragged herself home at last. It was in a single evening, while dousing her skin in cold water, that the things she'd loved most became the things she hated. Her bruises healed quick, leaving behind no trace of what had been done to her. Her broken nose healed straight. She learned how to walk the streets again, head cocked to the side, this time, and her courage in her hand. She learned how to stick the knife deep in their bellies when they offered her money.

It was from prison wardens that her mother found out about the baby. She came to see Carmen and the nameless little girl who slept beside her and found an empty bed in the prison's infirmary. The child is another pace she's since turned over, pretending it never happened. By the time she made it to Bayamo, it was as she'd never existed, a mere figment of her mutliated imagination. She stole to survive, becoming a part of the ever increasing crime rate in her country. It was the only way to live, as far as she was concerned: stealing by day, squandering her money by night. It was her turn to use others for she had been used enough.

At twenty-two and already a mother, a man, a child and a runaway convict, Carmen met with death. She laughed until he showed fangs. He gave her everything she'd prayed for since childhood, everything she'd wept for while giving birth. He took away her pain and gave her strength. Groomed her, so to speak, and helped her thrive. She didn't understand his desire but she took to it like a fish to water. He was the savior she'd been waiting for all. He gave her such wonderful gifts - how could she resist using them?

For fifty years, she has roamed the earth, pillaging and killing indiscriminately. For fifty years, she has known a father's ruthlessness and a master's love. She has been whore, murderess, adulteress, thief and temptress. She has sinned again and again. But, more importantly, she regrets nothing.