Name: Asher Stark
Age: 25
Weight: 180
Height: 5'9"

Asher Stark was always a rebel. He fought with his parents, and got kicked out of high school for attacking his teacher. He didn't care. He never liked school anyway. Sad thing is he was only a few weeks from graduating. It wasn't with honors but it was enough to get by. His parents got tired of dealing with him and kicked him out shortly after. So he just crashed on couches of friends for a few weeks before he finally turned 18 and decided to try and get his own place. He got a job busing tables and a local burger joint until he turned 21 and was able to get a better paying job as a bartender at the local bar called PJ's. It was in the seedier part of town but the money was decent. He saved up every bit he got, hoping to get his own place soon enough. He didn't have to wait long, not too far from the bar was a cheap apartment. It wasn't the nicest looking place or in the best part of town, but it was a roof over his head.

It was 4 years later when he met the girl that changed his life, and not necessarily for the better. She was a gorgeous girl, flawless skin, long smooth legs, blond hair that was long and silky that flowed past her shoulders in waves of corn silk. She had all the curves in the right places and it was a matter of chance that their path's met.

He had just closed down the bar, the last patron stumbling out a few minutes prior when she came in through the doors.

"Sorry, we're closed." He called out as he spotted her. When she made no signs of leaving he muttered to himself. "I should have locked that fucking door." He rounded the bar, setting the beer mug he had just cleaned down on the counter and headed towards her.

"I'm sorry, to bother you." She said looking at him waringly as he approached. "But my car got a flat and I need some help." She swallowed nervously as he stopped in front of her. "I've never been in this neighborhood before but I got lost coming from a party. . ." She trailed off, taking in his features, his pale skin (sleeping days and working nights will do that to you), his piercings, his ice blue eyes and his hair, dyed silver for the time being. She smiled suddenly, liking what she saw. Asher had nothing better to do and he knew what would happen to her if she was stuck in this side of town after dark alone, and he didn't want that on his conscience if he had the opportunity to help her.

"Sure, Gimme a sec. I'm almost done here." He nodded to an empty bar stool. "Take a seat." He locked the door and went back to finish cleaning the place up. They shared idle chitchat as he worked and she watched him, taking in his features, noticing that he was nothing like the guys she'd gone for before but he had a special beauty about him.

After Asher finished cleaning and was ready to go he grabbed his jacket and walked with her to her car. "I hope it's still there." He mumbled to her, realizing it took longer than normal to close the bar since he had her company. They both were relieved when her red Volvo was still intact. He fixed her flat in no time and was on his way when she called to him.

"Hey, since you were such a big help and all, can I buy you some coffee or something? It's the least I can do, you know, for helping me." He eyed her as she spoke and saw the flirty look in her eyes and knew exactly what she meant by "something." But he was going to call her bluff, he didn't have anything appetizing in his small run down apartment so he agreed.

As he suspected, coffee turned out to be a long steamy night of wild and rough sex in her loft in the better part of town. Afterward he caught a taxi back to his apartment and went to bed, not thinking anything of it, it was just his lucky night.

But this soon became a habit, she would show up around the same time every night, having excuses for needing to see him. He chuckled to himself as the realization of it all sunk it. He wasn't complaining or anything but it was quite funny. After a few weeks of this charade had gone on, he had an idea. He had closed up the bar and was waiting for her outside. Shortly later he saw a female figure heading his way, he checked his watch and knew it was her. When she got within hearing distance he called out to her. "You want to keep playing this "Maiden in distress" gig just so you can fuck me or do you want to make it official?" He asked her with a grin. She was shocked that he had caught on to her little game but didn't refuse the offer.

So that's how it started. Cecelia was her name. They had been dating for about 3 months and things seemed to be going well. He smiled to himself, having used the lot of his paychecks to buy her a modest sized diamond ring. He cut out of work early, having switched shifts with the bar owner. He hopped out the taxi in front of her building and used the key she had given him to head in. He got out of the elevator and walked to her apartment, opened the door and instantly he heard her moans of pleasure. He stopped in his tracks, not knowing what to expect but he slowly walked into her bedroom to see her riding another guy.

"What the fuck is this shit!" He cried out. Cecilia gasped and rolled from on top of the guy, grabbing the sheets with her. "Ash! It's, not what you think, honey." He looked at her with rage and hurt in his eyes. This was the woman he loved, who he thought loved him back. Before anything else could be said the guy lunged at him and they both went flying into the dresser, breaking the mirror as it crashed to the floor. They got into a scuffle and Cecelia tried to break it by throwing a lamp at the two, not the brightest idea. It hit Asher square in the face, the shattering glass cutting him deep under his eye. He screamed out in pain and the two fell away from each other. Asher ran out after getting up, covering his face as the blood oozed between his fingers. "I'm coming back!" he called out as he fleed the apartment.

He was bloody and seething with anger as he entered the emergency center doors. Good thing he didn't have to fight with the receptionist long or he'd prolly have bled to death. But he got himself patched up, paid and left.

He was still so upset at Cecelia though, hell at both of them. Now that his mind was clear he recognized the guy as one of the patrons who frequented the bar. One of the guys he'd spoke with before. "Fucking bastard." he mutter as he walked past a pawn shop, his hands balled into fists. He stopped then, an idea in his head. He entered the pawn shop, traded in the ring that was now void of all meaning and got a gun and some ammo then headed back to Cecelia's place.

He stormed through the front door, not being quiet about his arrival at all. "Asher?" Came her voice from the bedroom. He winced and closed his eyes, the loaded gun by his side. He took deep breaths, trying to clear his head. Did he really want to do this? He hurt so much and not just because of the new wound on his eye. He frowned and took one more shaky breath before opening his eyes again and heading towards the bedroom. Both of them were dressed by now but the room was still in a disarray. His eyes moved to look at the guy and he was right on the recognition.

"Asher, hey man." Travis said. He stood up. "Hey, I'm sorry how this ended up. It wasn't my fault man, I was drunk and she was just there and looking so hot. . ." His words fell on deaf ears though, Asher was looking at Cecelia now.

"Asher, baby. I'm so sorry. I can explain. . " She said, but was shortly cut off as he raised the gun at her face.

"Stupid rich bitch, I should have known you were no good for me." He spat out, tears of anger streaming from his eyes and he pulled the trigger. Travis got up to run but he didn't make it far, Asher shot him in the back of the head. He didn't stay long afterward, he rushed out of the apartment before realization hit him and he broke down right then and there, besides he was sure someone had called the police having heard the gunshots by now.

He went back to his apartment, grabbed what he could and fled, wanting a fresh start, knowing it would do him good and help him keep a low profile for the murders he committed. He bared no evidence from his last place of residency except for the scar under his right eye.

He roamed for a long time from town to town, knowing that small towns would be the death of him for all the trouble he seemed to cause in them, flirting with all the young girls, getting their fathers ans sometimes even their boyfriends after him. He was good at stirring up things. He soon found his way into Hathian. It was a small place but it looked promising, had a college in it too, which meant lots of co-eds. He figured this would be a nice place to start over indeed.