Oliver Smith

@losttylernorth

The sun was beating down hard, the orange orb hanging high in the sky with no cloud in sight. Smee sighed and wiped the sweat of the back off his neck once again. The man couldn’t seem to catch a break. He carried a sack of supplies that he needed to get for the ship, things that they were running low on. Unfortunately his lazy ass waited till the last possible moment to go to the island to retrieve such things, and he of course chose the one day that it was nearing a hundred degrees.

Smee continued walking along the beach, he had rolled up his pant legs and was ankle deep in the water, trying some how to get reprieve from the heat. His shirt was off and hanging loosely around his neck, the only thing absorbing some of the sweat that was on his body. Although now it did nothing since it was soaked. He sighed, hiking the bag up as he stared forward trying to see if he was even near the ship at this point.

As he look ahead he saw a figure lying in the sand. He cocked his head, unsure as to who it was seeing as the person wasn’t there when he first passed this spot just a few hours ago. He continued forward, his guard going up incase it was one of Pan’s minions.

As he reached the body, he saw it was just a girl, maybe in her early twenties, passed out before him. Her body was soaked as if she just dragged herself out of the ocean, and she probably did just that. He looked up and out to the water, trying to see if there was any ship of sort that she may have came from, but all he saw was the neverending blue that he saw every single day.

Now I know what you may be thinking about Oliver Smith, he’s a psychopathic killer who just goes around killing women for no good reason except that he’s a narcissistic asshole. The thing is, there is so much more that goes into it.

Oliver grew up in a household with only his single mother and his two younger sisters. He grew up being the only male role in their lives. He raised his sisters, protected them from the horrors of the world, he tried his best to give them a normal life. His mother was overworked, constantly trying to provide for her family. She leaned heavily on Oliver to help with the family, treating him more as a father role than as a son she had to raise. He grew up fast, having his father leave after the birth of his youngest sister, Alyssa. He remembers the day clearly, it was December 21st, and his father watched as she was born. A bright eye child innocent to the way the world works. He only stared, no emotion in his eyes as he held this child, before turning to Oliver and saying “I need to leave. You all have ruined my life, and I refuse to allow you all to take me down anymore than you have.”

Those words were the last thing his father ever said to him. Oliver was the only one who heard these words, and they forever haunted him. His mother never heard it, she was asleep when he decided to abandon them all. Oliver refused to tell her what he said, knowing that it would cause her downfall. Instead he told her he was a piece of shit, and there he created the anger in his mother that drove her to take care of her family. It was there he became her support to push her to do it on her own.

He was only nine years old when his father left, but the second he did Oliver grew up. He realized what he needed to do, who he was going to be in the family, and took it in stride. He didn’t mind that his father left, the man was an abusive asshole who tore down his mother and Oliver constantly. His little sister, Olivia, never saw these horrors. Only heard them through the closet that Oliver would hide her in. She never saw the backside of the man’s hand. She was hidden away in the nest of blankets and toys that Oliver had created for her. When the father left, everything changed. The attitude of the house was positive, the family could laugh and be with one another without the fear of riling up the monster in the backroom. Oliver spent his whole life making sure the foundations of his family were solid. He left ensuring they could survive on their own, be the strong women in life that they all needed to be.

He spent his life hearing his mother tell him that she was the only man he needed. That he was the best gift she was ever given. She had turned to him one day when the girls were bathed and put to bed by him. She told him, “I don’t care what any woman ever tells you Oliver, you are the best love they will ever receive. Any woman who walks out of your life does not deserve happiness, she doesn’t realize the pure love she has given up.” She hugged him, with a kiss on his head they went downstairs and spent the night watching their favorite movies. Those words resonated with Oliver, he was never sour with the life he was given. No, he was happy to be the support that his family needed.

It wasn’t until his teacher used him that he finally saw the abuse his mother faced with his father. He never realized the pain, the hurt and betrayal it was cause him to feel. This was the monster that awoke in him. The anger of the abandonment of his father, the years of being the best man he could be for his family, all shaped into the murderer that he was. He never could wrap his mind around why all these women were so ungrateful of him. He often questioned why they couldn’t see what his family saw in him.

The days after the murder of his love, Oliver Smith found himself wandering around some city’s streets. The city itself was hours away from his home, and he knew the police wouldn’t bother looking outside his small town. Although her death may be tragic, he knew the town wanted to keep everything kept within it. The small town may have been miserable growing up in, but now he found it a blessing seeing as he easily escaped.

Oliver had spent days trying to figure out what had overcome him. He spent it in a daze, quietly sneaking into stores to steal food and alcohol. Drinking to help forget the blood on his hands. Not because he was disgusted or ashamed, no it was the fact that he loved it. Oliver’s heart raced in anticipation and excitement at just the thought of it. So here this young boy was, stumbling in the low parts of a city drinking himself to sleep every night while he wrestled with the turmoil in his mind.

It wasn’t until a month in that he found himself overtaken by his bloodlust once again. He was in a beaten down bar where all the whores and lowlifes went to after the sun had set. He learned long ago that as long as you had money, they never really cared for your age.

Oliver was sitting in the corner, once again drinking by himself when he saw a woman approach him. She would have been gorgeous if life hadn’t taken her down. Her blue eyes were cold and calculating, and her hair was disheveled. She never spoke a word, but simply splayed herself across his lap. This is the second woman Oliver would have loved.

The two soon found themselves stumbling out into the alleyway, caught up in the lust and passion. They found their way to a hidden corner, and it was there that they stripped and fucked. When they finished the unnamed girl grabbed her clothes and started to dress. Oliver watched as she gave him a smirk and said, “Thank you for that.” Before turning to head back inside.

It was then that the anger that consumed him from his first love filled him once again. He only saw red as he watched this unknown woman walking away from him. Before he could even think he had reached out and grabbed the woman’s arm, jerking her back. A small scream escaped her mouth, but he was quick to cover it with his hand. Wrapping an arm around her waist he pulled her so that he was pressed against her back. His warm breath on her neck as he growled, “I will never let another woman walk away from me again.” She struggled against him, her screams muffled as he pressed himself harder into her. In a split second he had spun them around, her back was pressed against the wall and his hand still on her mouth. Her eyes were wide with fear, and he took a deep breath in as if he was consuming it.

Oliver pulled the knife out from his back pocket, he held it against her stomach. Looking into her eyes he spoke, “I want to watch the life drain out of your eyes.” As he said this he shoved the knife through the poor woman’s body, his hand now covering quickly with blood. He removed the knife and smiled as he held his hand just below her wound, the warm blood soothing the monster inside him. The screams fell silent and the woman slumped against the wall. Oliver stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her once again. He lowered her to the ground, and as she stared up at him, her eyes begging why, he gave her a kiss. He whispered, “No man will ever love you as much as I have.” She took her last breath, and he stood up and turned away. A grin covered his face as he licked the blood off his lips, loving the sweet, copper taste it left in his mouth.

It was then that Oliver Smith found his passion, he finally accepted the monster that lived inside him. No, the monster that was him. He moved on, going from city to city, sometimes small towns, anywhere that he could found a young woman easily swayed by his charm. His charismatic attitude, his perfect smile, it was easy to lull any woman into bed with him. These murders became his passion, and he continued down this bloody path until he met the one man that he would call his brother, who would be the only person he truly cared for in a world that robbed him of everything.

The cold air was harsh against Smee’s throat. His hands were numb, and each time he took a breath he could see it appear in front of him. Looking around he was once against on the dirty streets of the city, rats were running by and near by sirens could be heard. He sighed, running a hand through his hair a sense of familiarity hit him. He remembers this moment, this memory. He wasn’t sure which girl it was. Was it his second kill? Or maybe it was the fifth one. He lost count a long time ago.

He started to walk further into the alley way, knowing full well what to expect when he reached the end. He turned to his right, the buildings looming over him, seeming to grow the further he went a long. The light from the streets now distance, and only one shone up a head.

It was there he saw her. The woman he first loved, the woman who left him to live a normal life with her husband. Of course she never succeeded, he made sure of that. He had decided that if any women didn’t want him, then no one else deserved to be with them. His mind was warped into the idea that he should be the last love any woman would ever have, and he did them a favor of taking their life before they could find anyone else.

He slowed his steps, he was about ten feet from her, but she was clear as day. Her long blonde hair was splayed across the pavement, and her lips were slightly parted, red from the blood that had spilled out of her mouth. Her blue eyes were vacant as they stared ahead, all life and spark gone, a spark that Smee had taken away for his to keep.

He walked forward and knelt down next to her body, he brushed her hair away from her face. His mind going back to the days after school when he would run them through the long locks of hair she had. His hand ran down her face before following the curvature of her body. He soon felt the blood cover his hand, it was still warm as if he stabbed her only a few minutes ago. He looked down and watched as the puddle continued to grow, and a sadistic grin was painted onto his face. Oh how he missed the days of taking women’s lives. He missed the days of feeling their bodies collapse into his arms as he silently coaxed them into eternal sleep. Smee sighed, his eyes returning to the empty blue orbs. “I’m not sure,” he started to say. His hand cupped her cheek before continuing, “If I would have loved you till the end of our days, or if I would have taken your life even if you did love me.”

He stood, as the shadows grew closer, climbing up his legs, he smiled, “I do owe you a thank you, for helping me discover the thrill of murdering. For helping me learn what women really needed. For turning me into the monster I truly am.”

Character: Smee

Full name: Oliver Smith

FC: Garrett Hedlund

Age: 25

Preferred Pronouns: He/Him

Birthday: December 21st

Species: Human

Affiliation: Pirate

Position: First mate, often referred to as a Lieutenant, Hook’s right hand man

Skills: Adaptable, quick thinker, expert with a sword and hand-to-hand combat, excellent with words, educated, thievery

History:

Oliver Smith; a normal, young boy who grew up in the suburbs. Of course, whenever he says these words no one knows what he’s talking about. He grew up in the modern world, going to school and experiencing life as any teenager today would. His family was small; his father leaving long before he was born, two younger sisters counting on him for guidance, and his mother; an overworked, single mom who barely saw her kids just to put food on the table. Oliver was only seventeen when it all started.

First day of school he dropped his sisters off, and then made his way to the high school. He met with his friends, and off to class he went. The day was normal, until he found himself in his sixth period class. There stood a woman so beautiful that every boy was drooling. She disregarded them all, until she looked at him. Maybe it was the gray eyes, or the careless, rugged look he had about him, but from that day they found themselves in a romance no one could have predicted. He isn’t sure when it started, it may have been when she asked him to stay after class, or when he requested a meeting for his latest assignment. The two found each other caught up in a frenzy of lust and passion, often times sneaking around the school to get a taste of one another, and even going to her house to make love. It wasn’t until halfway through the school year that it came to a screeching halt. She turned cold, ignoring him any time he tried to meet, and even left before he even got out of his last class. Oliver was hurt and felt betrayed, he believed the feelings they had was love, and he didn’t see why she would leave that.

He became obsessed, at first stalking her throughout the day at school. Then following her home. Each week he grew progressively worse until he found himself standing outside her window late at night. It was then he saw the reason why everything had ended. There she was sitting on the couch with a man. The two of them curled up and enjoying the TV. He never really paid any mind to the ring on her finger, but now he realized what it meant.

He waited until the husband went to bed, just as she was making her way around the house he knocked on the window. She almost screamed when she saw him. She stormed out, obviously angry at him for being there. He begged and pleaded with her to come with him, that he was eighteen now and they could run away and be together. She basically laughed in his face, anything that had been between them obviously meant nothing to her.