Evelyn, the Living Dead Girl 

Character Name / Nicknames / Aliases: Evelyn White / Eve 

Birth Date: November 23rd 1990

Place of Birth: Savannah, Georgia 

Residence: Chicago, Illinois

Height: 5’10”

Weight: 135lbs.

Hair Color: Red.

Hair Length: Long.

Eye Color: Baby Blue.

Noteable Markings: Deep scar from her collarbone to her shoulder on the left side, another across her right side. Small scars across her arms.

Relatives: No Known Relatives. 

Friends: Non Applicable, unless you count Edgar her snake.

Enemies: Humanity. 

Phobias / Fears: Non applicable. 

Bad Habits / Vices: Moderate Self Harm.

Best Qualities: Honest, straight forward, hard working, intelligent.

Worst Qualities: Morbid, cold, emotionally ruined. 

Sexual Background: inexperienced. 

Style of Speech: Moderate Southern drawl.

Lies / Misinformation: She lies about how she got the scar on her shoulder. 

Childhood was regular for Evelyn; a mother that stayed at home and took care of her children, her father working extremely long hours and barely poking his head out in time for dinner, a little brother that annoyed her more than anything in the world. But she was happy. Sure they were a little dysfunctional, they weren’t rich and they didn’t spend enough time together, but they had each other. But that all changed when Eve was eleven. 

It was one of those nights that dad was coming home late, real late, working at the office until ten or so just making sure that he would get his Christmas bonus so he could buy Eve that pink bike she wanted so badly. But sadly what Robert White came home to was not the happy wife wrapping her arms around his neck as he’d come to expect, instead he entered a dark dreary house. “Lisa?” he’d call out, expecting to hear his wife shout  from the living room, or maybe she’d fallen asleep on the couch again; he always hated that because carrying her to bed always threw out his back. 

But Robert would have gladly carried the woman he loved dearly to that bed so many stairs away; especially when he rounded the corner into the living room, expecting to see just that. The briefcase hit the ground with a terrible thud, his footfalls even harder while he ran toward his bleeding wife - tied poorly to a chair. She was already dead. As much as he wanted to wallow in sorrow he needed to find his children, they must be alive… They had to be. 

Unfortunately no matter how hard Robert wanted to open the door to Michaels room and find him sleeping soundly in bed, the universe didn’t care; the boy was already dead. A bloody mess across his ninja turtle bed sheets. “Evelyn.” he whimpered, his last hope to see any of his family alive. As quickly as his blood covered body would allow he ran toward the pink door at the end of the hallway, pushing it open with such force it almost went flying off the hinges. “Eve —- “and to his knees he fell, gazing at the body of his lovely little daughter laying motionless on the floor. Blood pooling around her tiny body. 

With nothing left in the world, Robert pushed up from the blood stained carpet and walked calmly to his room, taking a seat at the edge of the bed he wished he’d been carrying his wife to. His hand moved to open the nightstand, pulling out his handgun. 

Less than fifteen minutes after the booming gunshots the police would arrive, finding only one survivor. The girl, little Evelyn; her breathing so shallow they’d thought her dead. If only Robert had thought to check her pulse… 

Evelyn was tossed from foster home to foster home until a moderately wealthy family adopted her at the age of sixteen; they wanted an older girl, one they didn’t have to spend much time or effort with. The couple were sweet folks, just not interested in having a child, they only reason they adopted the young broken girl was for publicity; the family trying to keep a reputation of being charitable - adopting the girl with the sad story and the empty eyes just helped to further their fame and glory. But in truth, Eve was little more than a slave. 

That was until the couple died in a horrific car accident when the girl was nineteen; their fortune left to her. Not that money was of interest to her, it didn’t matter to her, not much did. Everyone around her died; her real family, this family, the one friend she’d ever made, Devon, killed himself. Rather than trying to spend any more time with the living, Eve decided she was more suited to spend her life with the dead. She now attends university, studying to become a mortician. 

The money she owns is no concern to her, most of it stays untouched save for the money she spends on tuition, the rent on her small apartment and food. No one even knows about the money, everyone thinks she’s attending on scholarship…. Then again, most people don’t know anything about Evelyn. And she likes it that way.