Ξ——————————————Ξ l a b y r i n t h 8 Ξ——————————————Ξ
"Where the weapon and the world divides."
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April, 1939 New York, America
CREATING time pockets was a meticulous sort of handiwork that Ophelia often got right. She was attentive to the location, the size, and the people who traveled through the stopped pocket of time. It was unnoticeable to others, unless they remained in the time pocket and watched the world shift without them. But most—all—passerbyers usually found the area unsettling, a sort of sixth sense that most mortals had.
So Ophelia did what was requested of her and created a time pocket that would wholly satisfy Stefan's needs. He was a serial killer, to say the least, always desiring to stain his hands with blood.
Ophelia did not care for the individuals he killed, nor did the morality of it matter to her. She was very much in the gray, though she often struggled to obey her father's decision to kill some individuals over others—such as children. Nico and Bianca were a stark example of that; children often revealed that hidden moral compass she rarely listened to.
Her father's beliefs were first overall.
Ophelia crossed her arms over her chest as she entered the time pocket. To everyone else, she had merely walked through the sidewalk, continuing to appear as if she'd continued forward.
Because here, time was frozen, and would remain so for the individuals she chose.
Except, well, Stefan chose his victims, not her—
And he was Stefan here, when they were alone, when he killed. The children would only know Simon, an American who traveled alongside her.
That was all they would ever know.
"You're doing an awful job." Ophelia stated.
Stefan huffed as he tried to apprehend one of his victims.
How he chose his victims was strange. It didn't matter if they were women, children or men, he picked the ones that looked strong—that were, at times, stronger than him. He liked to have authority over strength and it made Ophelia realize that she would have been one of these victims if not for her ability to do as she pleased.
Today's victim was different from the rest.
He was a taller man with sharp blue eyes and a strength to him that was slightly above average—but that wasn't what was so different. Most victims looked at her and her indifference; and didn't say a thing to her. Usually they were fighting to survive and had no time nor chance to speak to her.
