Samael

Used to be Tiny Tom

Description:

6’ 4"
Long Black Hair styled in neat dreads
Black eyes
Wears black gloves while doing everything
Scarred and burned all over body
Tends to wear sleeveless shirts and camo pants.
Sawed off shotgun hangs at hip
20lb Maul strapped to back
Wears medium kevlar ballistic armor constantly

Has tattoo sleeves on both arms, but in some places there are square scars that cover bits of each, as if he has been patched up. Each tattoo depicts contorted faces and skulls screaming in an endless dance of agony, pain, and revulsion.

Has a constant look of contempt and revulsion for those that are perpetually treading beneath him.

Bio:

Have you heard the tale of Tiny Tom?

Well seeing as I am good and drunk, let me tell you something I betchoo didn’t know….

Tiny Tom was a typical child as far as children go in this day and age. He liked his toys and guns and trucks and trains, and all that shit. But he was always a little off… something about Tiny Tom was never quite right. As boys go he was a quiet one, smaller and maybe a little more… delicate?

We are not quite sure how his birth parents died, only that we found them, half eaten by rats. I remember that day, hadn’t seen the adults for days, when we searched their home we found them… and Tiny Tom. He was covered in filth, blood, and excrement, we assumed his own, but probably some of theirs as well. Double suicides are common, who better to join you in the afterlife than your lover? His eyes were wide and crazed, the whites encircling his irises like an oncoming radiation storm, his pupils pin pricks. He was huddled up to them as if for warmth. No matter the doctrine it is still horrifying to watch your parents kill each other. The odd thing about the situation was, why did he stay inside? Why did he not report what had happened? What did he eat? How could he sleep in all of that for the days it took for us to find him?

Well no matter the mysteries of the situation, we had him and he was going to be safe with the other children and fed well enough. But things did not turn out to be much better for him. Being tiny as he was and shy to boot, he was teased mercilessly by the other children. They huddled around him jabbing their fingers into him and taunting him with shrieking cries of parent eater, filth taster, and flesh eater. You know how kids are, miserable fucking creatures.

That is they did do this, until they started winding up dead. One child wished to see the kingdom of heaven and somehow managed to maul his own face in with a rock. Another must have run into a pack of wild dogs or something, for when we found her there was large chunk missing from the front of her neck. That one gave me the willies, watching her twitching and lying there, every time she tried to speak or even to cry, all that she could utter was a slight gurgle. She passed pretty quickly. There were others, but those were the really memorable ones.

But what does Tiny Tom have to do with this? you ask. Honestly?….Nothing. Kids die all the time here, it is not uncommon. Really no one has a chance to survive in this world. He just got lucky that the ones who died were the ones that tormented him the most. I am almost jealous.

From here Tiny Tom met Dr. Lazarus, weird old coot that one. Lazarus was one of the few that were on the scene pretty regularly when one of those children died, don’t know why Tiny Tom took a liking to him, trying to save those kids and all. If it were me I would have rejoiced in the fact of their painful deaths. But Tiny Tom liked to watch the Doc do his work. Probably had something to do with liking to get his hands messy.

The rest is common knowledge, the tiny kid grew to one hell of big S.O.B. mean to, but he provides for Purgatorium in his own way can’t fault him for that….Hey! you grab me another drink and I will tell you another tale… hic…

Samael

Purgatorium Puppet_Master Ziathen