EDWARD HELMS

This article contains information that has been corrupted. Please verify the source of this information, or rebuild the directory to which it links.

## Edward Helms

### Family

Mary Helms (Wife, Deceased)Henry Helms (Son, Deceased)Margaret Helms (Daughter, Deceased)

## SUMMARY

Edward Helms is a quiet, pensive soul, scarred by a past that continues to slip out of his grasp with each year that passes, leaving behind only the pain it has caused.

## HISTORY

Edward Helms was born in 1898 in the city of Watertown, Massachusetts to two Danish immigrants. His early life was uneventful, staying at home with his mother until he was old enough to get a job on an assembly line at the Watertown Arsenal alongside his father. As he reached his late teens, he began to grow an appreciation for woodwork and carpentry, finding an apprenticeship with a local carpenter that had recently lost a shop hand. While working, he met Mary Abbott, who he would later wed.

In the year 1920, the two moved to Boston in search of economic opportunity. Edward continued his work in carpentry, managing to find several highly paying contracts with hotels in need of furnishings. Mary hoped that the move to a larger city would help her find her way into the business of fashion, having become delighted with the rapidly changing trends in women's dresswear.

By 1926, the pair welcomed their first child, Henry, to the world. His sister followed only two years later. Disaster, however, was on the horizon. With recession in the works and the possibility of a depression looming, Edward and Mary did all they could to save as much money as possible to support their two children.

In 1932, it became apparent that carpentry was not in high enough demand to keep the family afloat. While Mary had begun to make strides towards climbing the ladder in the high paced world of fashion by opening her own millinery, the onset of the Great Depression halted any of her plans in their tracks, forcing her to close.

Edward found work at the nearby harbor, loading and unloading what little goods came to port. In early 1934, what started as a small cough in Margaret had spread to both children and grown dramatically worse, leaving both to be bedridden for days at a time. While at the harbor, Edward was told by another worker that word had spread of a man on the outskirts of town who could help him, either by providing money or medicine. What this man would want in return was unclear, but Edward, in his desperation, determined it was worth speaking to him at the very least.

T̸͇̜̻̭̟͓̀̀H̷͓͉̠̠͊I̷͓̎̋̑̄̋͜S̶̖̠̫̗̮̭̠̓͆̓̏̇̓͐͝ ̴͈̘̰̰̒̐̌͗͊͠͝I̵̙̾͋̂͑̐̈͜͠ͅN̶̪͍̠̭͓̯̓͐̀͊̐͂͘͝F̵̰̰̯̭̳͚͈̹͠Ǫ̸̧̦̀̊́̏R̴̡̟̻̼̠̹̃́̃̉̅̃̊̎M̶̙̻̥̖̿̾̈́̎̎͒̕A̴̖̱̪̥̋̽͂̑̅T̴͔̻̻͙̄̎̉̀I̴̧̱͙͑̓̍̿̃͋Ǫ̶̫̗̦̪̖͗̊̈̈́̋͜͝N̵̡̹͙̻͓̫̺̂̔̄͊͂́͗̚ ̷̨͔̬̦̉̇͋͗͆́͠ͅĨ̵͎̺̺̠̂̿̔̏̽͂S̷̹̿̋͋͠ ̵͎̬̃͊͐̄̇C̴̞̺̮̫̗̺̋̕O̵̬͖̼͗͘R̵̛̦̳̝̠͖̘̙͙̈̏̂̋́͊͘R̶̬̠̪̐́̾̕Ũ̶̪̕͘Ṕ̶̨̡̱͇̭̭̜͔͘Ṱ̴̜̮͌̍̅́͛̔͘E̵̡̛̫̗̝͈̝͓̒̔͒̔D̸̜̼͔͇̓

In 1949, Edward joined Mortimer in a relocation to Los Angeles, California, leaving Boston behind. His initial years in LA were uneventful, Mortimer having decided to halt operations for some time in order to first integrate with the area. This left Edward with tasks more befitting a chauffeur and house caretaker than he had expected, finding it a far cry from the work he had done so far. What should have been a period of rest, however, was marred by the presence of Cadence, her attitude towards him becoming increasingly dismissive and demeaning.

T̶͙̞͙͋H̸̙̘͕̖͎̝̬̍̃̃̒͝Ỉ̴̡̫̱̭̥̭͉̹̭͉͑͛͌̋͐͘Ṡ̴̱͚̇͌̕̚͘͝ͅ ̵̢̗̈́͛I̵̡̹̥̩̓̏Ń̴̦̉F̶̳̩̣̪̰̤͈͕̠̖̀ͅO̸̧̢͈͈̳͋͌͂̐̂̽̋͗R̵͈͚̫̂̔̐͘̚̚͜͜M̷̡̜͎̮͎̥̗̮̬͚̏́̉̔̅̽̇̈́͌͘Ȧ̵̡̡̛͖̞̳̱̙̞̃̐̑̓̎̄͘͜͝Ţ̴̪͈̂͝Ḭ̷̧̩̱̼̩̻̲̆̊̆͗͜͠Ȭ̷̧̝̫̭̹̬̈̆̔͗̍̒N̵̗̫͌͒̊͆̂̀ ̸̻̳̠̞͊̅̍̍̾̋̂͠I̸̧̨̨̢̮̺͕͊͒͗̑̉͘ͅS̴̬͖̼̳̺̺͓͉̈́̄̌͐͜ ̸̹͗̑́̋̏̅͂̓̃̔͝C̵̛̲̰̖̗̬̜͈̟̈̆͗̈͑̽͋Ő̸̢͎̩̬̠̩̰̉R̶̬̞͎͖͋͆͗͒͝R̶̹̰̟͊͆̅̐̽̈́̕͝͝U̴̒̍̈́̀̏͊̕ͅṔ̴̗̩̗͔̞̝͎͈̂͌̋͘Ţ̴̪̀̓͌̂͊̊͆̈́̓̚̚Ë̴͉͚̹̳̯͓̦̰̀ͅḐ̴͕̥̬̝̯̹̫̲̍̊̃̃̒̆̃͝͝

Though the loss of James and Harmony filled Edward with a distinct sadness reminiscent of his grief for his own children, he knew he had no choice but to carry on for fear of violating the terms of his contract. It was clear to Edward that Mortimer was waiting for some event to trigger his next move. In the year 2022, such an event would occur. Rachel Anderson revealed herself to be alive and well, returning to the country after a decade in protective custody. This information launched Mortimer into action, Edward being tasked with gathering intelligence from sources around the globe, transporting small snippets of knowledge to form a larger picture in Mortimer's mind. Though he could not piece together what the complete situation may be, he understood the general direction that Mortimer would take, and knew that more contracts would soon be under his watchful protection.

Ţ̷̘̈H̷̯̬̎́I̸̮̹̦̬̥̣͒̓̂̑͑̃͊͜͜S̴̩̼͂̂̐͆̊̽͛ ̶̠̲̭̗̈́̈̓̾͛͐̀̎ͅĬ̶̤̭̯Ń̴̢͍̰̺̙̫̱̯F̴̢̛̝͓͎͑Ò̷̬̖͍̜̳͍̞̆̇Ṟ̷̓̓͛̽̌̈́̕͝Ḿ̸̜̯̫̘̘̥̪̇́͂͗̌̾ͅA̴̙̲͖̻̭͈̮͗̈́̐̒͐̆̇̚Ț̵̭̏͋͋̂̅͝͠Ȋ̶̻̀̕O̴̭̳̽͒̎N̵͕̠̲̥̰͖͍̙͛́̀̏̌ ̴̧̮̭̳̣͉̜͈̅͑̈́͊́͠I̷̡̡̯̪͙̩̾̇̆̀̆̊͠S̵̡̡͙̮͓̊ ̷͉̖̓͌͘C̶̨̡̬̻̙̜̉Ő̴̞̰͌̾̀̈́̈́͑R̸̲̫͗͋̅͗͒͑R̷̡͇̜͖̟͂Ṵ̶͉͆̊͑̀̇̏̄͝P̷̢̨͔̼͔̺̫̹̆T̷͉̰̥̅̕E̵͉̜̰͔̠͈̺̣̋̓Ḓ̴̡̝̥̰̳̺̫͑̏̽͝

The opening of Mortimer's was a refreshing moment for Edward, finally hearing the sounds of celebration and recreation after years of traversing the decimated fields of the North African front. Edward was, of course, instructed to keep his presence minimal, so as not to frighten any patrons with his physical appearance. A quick glance in the shadows or from a distance was obscure enough to fool most, but a close look under the brim of his hat would reveal his nature far too clearly.

T̵̨̖̔H̶̦̭̒̀İ̸̮Ṣ̶͎͆̚ ̸̨͂I̷̜̎̇N̸̗̯̚͝F̵̻͈́͠O̶̱̓́R̶̦͋͝M̵̖̃A̵̬͗̃T̶̡͎̒Ï̴̞͘O̵̝͋͘N̴̄ͅ ̶̦͌̓Ĩ̷̗̮͊S̷͙͆̾ ̴̬̖̿Ċ̸̬̩O̵̙͆̕R̶̺̃R̸̩̞̃͑U̸͙̅P̸͈̪̿T̵͈͒Ę̶̟̏D̵̥̝̉̓

T̸̲̻̰͓̗͑͑̓͘͝͝H̷̙̻̓̅͂͌̚̚ͅÍ̶̤̦̗͙̬͗̋̌͒͑Ṣ̴̜̍̅͂͐͋̕ ̶̹͚̘́͊͑I̸̡̟̪̺͍̒̏̉̉̒Ņ̸̝̂͝F̶̪̪̔Ǫ̵̦͖̩̝̼̂̊̏Ř̴̮̰͖͂̋ͅM̴̜̉A̴̳̦̙͉̮͝ͅT̸̖̝̘͓͂͑I̵͓̽̓͑͆Ó̴̮̳̼͚͂̓͋̍N̷̢̢̤͚̪̭͛ ̶͖͚͙̞͎͒ͅI̸̦̞̜̝͌͘S̶͖̤͖͈̈́͛ ̴̞̋C̵̱̦̣̏̀͘̕͝O̶̠͖̟̺̗̜͋̔͑̋́͝R̵͉̳̲͈͋̀̎͗͂͒R̵̨̡̢̯̻̔̔̂͂̔͝U̸̠̍P̷̨̖̰̠̩͓̍̓̆̈́͑T̴̨͔̙̝̳̻̀͆̑͂̂E̸̛̥͈̳̭͖̎͂̃̚Ḑ̷̨̥̥̝͇͂

## REFERENCES

RETURN TO INDEX