Author Games: Red Room

Hunters Six: Sarka Del Bosque

Sarka Del Bosque is a liar, this I know, but my Ana Sofía is not a sinner.

Name: Sarka Del Bosque

Sex: Female

Age: 26

Physical Appearance: She'll tell you that her hair is dark, that the bags under her eyes are because she never sleeps. She'll tell you that she's ugly, because what else is a woman so cruel?

But I won't. I'll tell you that her hair was light in color before she dyed it black, that the dark circles under eyes were painted on with make-up that morning after she slept for ten hours. I'll tell you my Ana Sofía is beautiful.

Personality: She'll tell you that she is not kind. She'll tell you that she'll use you as she has many others. She'll tell you that she'll hurt you in all the ways you can imagine.

But I won't. I'll tell you that Ana Sofía may want you think that she's many things, that you're her enemy, but Ana Sofía doesn't have enemies. I know this as well as I know the words on her tongue and the crescent-shaped birthmark on her forearm. I know this as well as I know that Sarka Del Bosque is one thing and one thing only: a liar.

Background: She'll tell you that she was born in Spain, where the trees grow so tall that they hurt the stars. She'll tell you about Abel, the younger brother she fought with in the forest when dusk fell. She'll tell you that her childhood was dark, like the sky as the snow fell the day she was born, and cold, like the wind that blew that winter day.

But I won't. I'll tell you that Ana Sofía grew up in Canada an only child, born in the middle of the summer when the sun was bright and shining and the air was warm and wonderful against her soft, pink-tinged skin. Her mother was born in Bohemia, and her father's family is from Spain, though Antonio Del Bosque grew up on in New England. The pair met at university in America, and later moved to Toronto, where Sarka was born Ana Sofía Del Bosque. But she was a liar, my Ana Sofía, and once I read her the tale of the warrior-maiden of Bohemian myth, she named herself Sarka, for all the lies she would tell.

Other: She'll tell you that I don't exist, that she never loved me.

But I won't. I'll tell you that I do, that she did.