Description: Name: Marcus Ayden Heldretch
Age: 32
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 182 lbs.
Eye Color: Dark Brown
Hair Color: Black on the sides. Grey on top.
Body Type: Athletic
Zodiac Sign: Ares
Birthday: April 9th, 2017
Ethnicity:  Caucasian
Nationality: Calls himself a "mutt". Was born in Ireland and currently resides in Berlin, Germany.
Reflection: Rage

Personality: Marcus is an introvert to the highest degree. His solution to outer conflict is to bottle his emotions tightly and tuck them away, pretending that the occurrence never happened in the first place.  This overwhelming fear of conflict, turmoil, and obstacles has led Marcus to lead a secluded lifestyle, and barely has any friends aside from the small bouts of interaction he partakes in at his place of employment, which fortunately for him happens to be a refinery where he welds machinery parts. Marcus devises his lifestyle based upon simplicity and ritualistic tendencies, for it is through rigorous discipline to align his life with stability that he best avoids conflict. He is patient, temperamental, yet a pariah of anxiety and nerves because of his habit of absorbing anguish and rage into his frame. Unfortunately this has led him to several different methods of controlling his nervous breakdowns. Marcus is a chronic smoker, binge drinks every other day, and has even used cocaine to elevate his mood.


History: Not much is known about Marcus' upbringing save what he is willing to share, and this sheds a small amount of light on his behavior. He grew up in a very militaristic household, and this was during the turning point of the world's technological revolution in 2017. His family abhorred the very nature of this surge of productivity, and believed technology to be the absolute evil of the world. This caused further chaos in the household, and one can only imagination what growing up in a house with five older brothers, a drunken violent father, and a doped up mother must be like.

"I never really liked that house. Too crowded. It always felt like the walls were trying to close in on me and the ceiling was a huge mouth trying to swallow me up. Not to mention we never had heat in the winter."

Let me out

Marcus glanced up from the spiral bound notebook in which he was jotting down  the paragraphs describing himself as best he could. Sometimes that helped, to put it on paper, and look it at from a reader's point of view. The mix of cheap Irish whiskey and lack of sleep must have him hearing things. Yeah, that's it. Nothing to be concerned about. Marcus took a long pull from his cigarette, exhaled the smoke into the already thick atmosphere of his dingy one bedroom apartment, and paused for a moment before continuing to write.

What's the point of writing this? If I were to die right now, the only thing you people would know about me is that I'm a  broken down man. A shell of my former self. I am going to see my reflection at the bottom of this bottle and it's going to be the same worn down middle aged coward I've always been.

Marcus stopped writing and stared at the piece of paper for a moment before grabbing the bottle of Irish whiskey, tilting the bottle to his lips to empty the contents completely, and at the last gulp, his eyes peered down at the bottle of the reflective glass to gaze into his own eyes. Instead of his dull brown eyes, however, there was a pair of lidless white hues gazing directly into the man's own. No, deeper. It was staring straight down into his very soul. The moment of shock kept Marcus from screaming, but he hurled the bottle at the wall, satisfied by the sound of the glass shattering and littering the floor of his apartment.

"Too much to drink. That's all. Hallucinating,heh. Yeah. Just the alcohol. Nothing to worry about, "He reassured himself nervously, finishing off his cigarette before he stumbled over to his bed, and collapsed upon it with a thud. He was out like a light.

Let me out....
Free from this prison....
I need to get out....
I will break down these walls...
I will escape
I will be free....
LET ME OUT!!!
 

• Reflections