#merida krawczyk

[meridakrawczyk]

Character Name: Merida Dinah Krawczyk-Wiśniewski 

Appearance: Twenty-Four Years Old.

Age: 188 years old.

Born: 19th September, 1800. 

Turned: 24 years old. 1824.

Current Location: New York City

Affiliation: Borgias

Occupation: Krawczyk Casting Agency Owner.

What ties them to Salem?: She visits from time to time to see an old friend, who happens to be a witch she’d met in the early 19th century. She mainly resides in New York City, but finds that Salem often draws her back.

Good traits: Intuitive, Perfect Recall and Romantic.

Bad traits: Sly, Emotionally Void, Manipulative and Gluttonous. 

TIMELINE

tw: forced turning, infedility, murder, death of children, blood trafficking.

Merida Dinah Krawczyk-Wiśniewski, born into the respectable upper-class Krawczyk family in Poland during the early 1800s. With a conventional upbringing for that time, she was well-educated, set on a path that left her with little voice to choose. Marrying a wealthy merchant, known as Krzysztof Wiśniewski of whom her father had neatly paid for such a blessing and two children who would follow consecutively a year after their vows were made before God. Till death do us part, they’d said on that holy day. But there’d been nothing holy about the act that would follow. Love was but a bitter taste upon the tongue of a foolish woman who’d once believed she deserved it. Her life, though comfortable, often felt confined by societal expectations and domestic responsibilities, and that ever-growing hole in her chest for something that was missing. 

Merida had always yearned for more, needed it, even. 

Married, she found herself bored but content. Though every day felt like the same tired routine of false smiles and house duties, she still enjoyed the luxuries that others could not afford. Still, as the first couple of years passed, and she bore two children, their life grew to be something worthy of her attention. And slowly, she developed feelings for her husband that only deepened on both ends as time passed. He wasn’t a knight in shining armour as she’d dreamed of as a child, but he was kind and thoughtful. Coming from money, events and social seasons were all the rage. 

Not long after her twenty-fourth birthday, Merida attended a Beethoven concert, a favourite experience for her, given her refined taste for classical music. Captivated in her private box accompanied by her maid, she was unaware of the predatory gaze of a man. If that’s what you could call a dead-man walking. A member of the Boregais vampire clan, a powerful and ancient family that had held reign and prestige. The man, an elite member within the clan, was struck by Mer's beauty and her intense, profound adoration for the music. Not once did she look away, tears lighting those rounded eyes. 

Like a doe waiting in a clearing, out in the open for all to see. And this time the predator was hunting her, and she had no idea. The introduction was quick, a kiss on either cheek, a flash of that well-perfected, poised smile. An exclusive after-party. Here, she encountered a man with eyes she’d never forget. Startling, but captivating. Still, Merida didn’t know he’d been watching her. Assessing and drinking her in. (Not quite, yet, though.) It didn’t take long for her to find herself engaging in a deep, intense conversation with him. Slowly gravitating away from those she’d come with. Her husband and children – forgotten. Merida found herself drawn to him, like a silent siren call sang to her. Beckoning her close. Go to him, it’d almost seemed to whisper. To this day, she wasn’t sure if that had been Satan guiding her. Had she been foolish? 

Tonight, yes. And the consequences would be great. During this conversation, the man made an offer that gave her pause: eternal life. Intrigued and yearning for an escape from a mundane, ordinary existence, Mer accepted without hesitation, naively unaware of the true nature of the offer. Of how the life she sought would end, and although she may live, there were parts of her that would never truly be the same. Human nature was altered, perception changed.

The second his teeth tore into her skin, and the screams erupted from her lips: she regretted it.

Sometime later, lay on an expensive sofa, dying as her body, completely drained of her life's blood, humanity slipping away piece by piece. The man completed the ritual that turned her into a vampire. The swapping of blood, the ritual. In haste, she’d weakly attempted to push him away, but as his skin touched her lips. She drank deeply, gluttonously. Like there would never be enough in the world as it surged through her. And just like that, a Boregias sired Vampire she became.

The following hours, Merida wasn’t quite sure how to explain what became of her. Altered, she was, but the newfound perception of reality was skewed, especially as she let the man unlace her corset and have his way with her. Not once, or twice, but thrice. It’d been exhilarating, a release like none she’d ever experienced before. Blood-fuelled and hazed. And when the night ended, sat there, her maid redoing her laces—he was gone. Like he’d never been there.

And she was alone, eyes squinting in the light.

The early hours, when the candle had burned to a stump and the house was silent. Merida returned home. Somewhat traumatised by what had happened and keenly aware that she’d cheated on her husband, not with a man, but someone of the undead. Something she now was. There’d been ghost stories told to her as a child, about those that lurked in the dead of night. Now she was the main character of one of those bedtime stories that had kept her awake as a girl. 

As a fledgling vampire, a savage hunger marked Mer's first night. She could barely control it. Avoidance didn’t work, and with it, that insatiable appetite only grew, divided and conquered her very being. Sweats, tossing and turning and the thumbing of her husband's vein in his neck, kept her staring at the ceiling. The smell embedded itself inside of her, choking until she was close to falling over the ledge. She’d never forgive herself, couldn’t. So when she stumbled through the hallways, feeling as if her body was about to set on fire.

Unsure how to placate it. Agnieszka, her first victim, her maid and the lady who’d been with her since she was a girl had come after her, a small candle in her hand, worry etched into those motherly features: but it had only been when . The act horrified and exhilarated her, awakening a new, darker side of her nature.

Driven by an insatiable thirst and a twisted sense of liberation, she found her husband next. He’d begged and pleaded, told her that whatever it was, they’d find a cure. But…did she want to be cured? In her blood rage, she hadn’t listened to sense, hadn’t seen reason. This man, she loved and shared a whole life with, children who slept just a room away: and without any sense of right or wrong, humanity vanishing from her being…she fed, and drank the lifeblood of the only man who would truly ever love her, for her. For who she was before she became a monster, before that last shred of humanity evaporated. Forever severing her ties to her former human life.

It was as she began to sober from his blood that she heard the heartbeats of her children. But even through that haze, she resisted, she pushed, and fought every urge in her body. Motherly instinct and sheer willpower kept her in that room as she barked against pain. Feed, feed, feed. The first was always the worst, the frenzy not like the bedtime stories her mother had read when she was a child. Nothing could compare to this. It felt like childbirth all over again. Screaming silently so as to not alert anyone, begging.

She remembered one whispered fact, from the man she’d met at the after party: avoid the sun. She wasn’t sure if he’d meant it as a joke, or if she truly should fear, as the legends had said. Without a thought, one last glance towards the bedroom door, she ran. As far, and as fast as she could. She did everything she could to save her children that night, but it still wasn’t enough. 

News came, not four months later, that a war party travelling through had ravished her house. No survivors. Remaining war fights of the Soviet and Republican fighters. Her children, dead. It didn’t quite hit her at first. The news of her husband's murder, and the wife’s disappearance had been branded a murder, kidnapping. No one would suspect that Merida could have been involved in such a thing. Yelled in the streets: The killer is still at large. A great aunt, Helena, had taken her children in. 

But in the end, she had eternity to live with the fact that she was the reason. If she’d been there, she might’ve been able to save them, especially as a vampire. And regret, for eternity, was a lot to swallow.

For many years, she drifted. From place to place, a nomad of sorts, creating connections and befriending her kind. It was there that she secured a reputation, heartless, emotionally-void, and, of course, great when it came to business. After spending ten years alongside a man known as Cain, business savvy and an intellectual freaking genius, she learned a few things.

One being that vampires alike would pay a high price for good blood, especially their preferred blood type. An idea flourished, and with that, she ran with it. Blood trafficking came easily, especially to a woman who had the ability to persuade and promise things she had no intention of delivering, without batting an eyelid.

The company has had many names over the years, Legal Services Unite, EOLC and, last but not least, the modelling agency that was bustling with work. In the past, they’d simply trafficked without much legitimacy, but with people saying the new technology era was upon them, she’d had to think. To scheme.

The modelling agency had real clients, people they sent to jobs. But those that had no family, no connections, nothing: they were the perfect targets. The ones they needed. And that was all it took. Slowly, as business began to boom, so did the blood trade. It started small, and before she knew it, she was in the states and expanding over state lines every day. 

But there’s currently something missing. She’s searching for someone, a rumour bringing her out of New York City and back to Salem to find an old friend.