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Noah-Elias Quintero-Sloan

Played by Z_e_n

confession

  • Noah-Elias Quintero-Sloan

    Nickname(s)
    “The Confessor” (media), “Ghost Boy” (schoolyard), “Noe” (used only by his mother)

    Age
    19

    Date of Birth
    September 13, 1982

    Ethnicity
    Puerto Rican (mother) & Irish-American (father)

    Gender
    Male

    Pronouns
    He/Him

    Height
    5'10"

    Occupation
    Part-time used bookstore clerk

    Criminal Status
    Active serial offender (unsuspected)

    Appearance
    Noah-Elias is striking, not in the traditional sense of beauty, but in the way a blade glints before a cut. He has a lean, wiry frame that moves with quiet precision, like someone used to navigating narrow alleys and crowded sanctuaries. His skin is pale olive, usually looking cooler and grayer in tone due to sleepless nights and poor nutrition. A faint constellation of freckles marks the bridge of his nose and cheeks—remnants of a childhood once spent in sunlight, now long buried beneath shadows. His thick, dark brown hair curls slightly around the ears and forehead, never tamed, usually brushed back or tied with a fraying elastic.

    His eyes are what unsettle people. Hazel at first glance, but when the light catches them, there’s a cold copper-green glint behind the irises—sharp and unreadable. They’re not dead eyes; they’re watchful, constantly calculating, always quiet. Noah dresses in layers: threadbare button-ups, black slacks or faded jeans, oversized jackets that hang like armor. Most of his wardrobe is thrifted or inherited, with a distinctly late-80s edge. His most noticeable accessory is a small metal crucifix bound to his wrist by blood-colored yarn, always worn on his left wrist like a tether or charm. He touches it when thinking or distressed, as if it grounds him.

    Background
    Noah-Elias Quintero-Sloan was born in a crumbling brick row house in East Baltimore, the only child of Marisol Quintero, a fiercely religious Puerto Rican woman, and Connor Sloan, an Irish-American former seminarian who disappeared when Noah was seven. Noah remembers very little of his father, except for the smell of ink and incense, and the sound of Latin hymns mumbled in the dark. After his disappearance—rumored to be connected to misconduct within the church—Marisol never spoke his name again. She buried it with rosaries and alcohol.

    Noah was raised in silence and scripture. His mother alternated between prayers and punishments, scrubbing sins out of him like stains. They had no money, no extended family, and only the Church of Saint Ignatius, which cast longer shadows than protection. He attended a Catholic elementary school until they could no longer afford tuition. The transition to public school at age twelve was violent—culturally, socially, emotionally. He withdrew into books, sketchpads, and scripture, clinging to ritual like breath.

    By fourteen, Noah was writing strange essays about purification and sin. At sixteen, he began to collect names. Not classmates, but adults—people in power. Teachers, priests, counselors. The ones who “confessed lies but never atoned.” When his blind grandmother passed away in his arms, her last words—"Confiesalo todo, mijo"—stuck to his bones. He took them literally. That same year, the first body was found behind the rectory. The case was dismissed as a mugging gone wrong. But Noah knew better. He had written the confession himself.

    Personality
    Noah-Elias is a paradox of restraint and obsession. Outwardly, he is soft-spoken, articulate, and difficult to read. He doesn’t lash out or raise his voice. His anger manifests as quiet stillness—a held breath, a sharpening of the eyes, the absence of movement. He’s unnerving to be around for long periods. People often say “he feels like he’s listening too closely” or that “he’s memorizing things you didn’t mean to say.” And he usually is. He observes everything: tone, twitch, hesitation, breath.

    To those who don’t know him, Noah is “the weird bookstore guy” or “the quiet kid who draws saints and knives.” But beneath his unassuming exterior lies a mind steeped in ritualistic thought, heavily influenced by Catholic guilt, isolation, and a warped interpretation of justice. He believes most people lie to themselves and others. He believes in sin—intimately. But he also believes in cleansing. His killings are not for pleasure. They are sacred acts of balance. If he is caught, he will not deny it. In fact, he might welcome it—as if penance is overdue.

    Despite his violent tendencies, he shows signs of deep affection for those he deems innocent. He has a soft spot for animals, especially strays. He volunteers at the church pantry. He’s tender with elderly neighbors. If someone is truly vulnerable or kind to him without pretense, Noah remembers it forever. There is a twisted tenderness to him, a haunted boy still hiding behind the man-shaped mask of a judge.

    Modus Operandi
    Noah-Elias kills sparingly and intentionally. He does not leave evidence—not because he is a master criminal, but because he plans like a priest preparing for last rites. His victims are people he deems "unrepentant hypocrites”—typically religious officials, school counselors, abusive parents, or authority figures who preach morality but act in contradiction.

    Each murder is symbolic:

    ✞ Tongue removed: for deceit.

    ✞ Hands severed or bound: for sins committed physically.

    ✞ Bodies arranged in postures of prayer or penitence, often surrounded by candles or Latin verses.

    ✞ A “confession” is always found—either carved into wood nearby, written on paper, or etched into the victim’s own clothing. The writing style always changes, making it hard to connect the cases at first.

    ✞ He considers his acts divine punctuation—cleansing periods at the end of corrupted sentences. He doesn’t kill children, innocents, or those who express sincere guilt.

    Notable Traits

    ✞ Ambidextrous, but favors his left hand for carving or fine motor tasks.
    ✞ Keeps a private journal written in a mix of Latin, Spanish, and English—the journal is fragmented, poetic, and emotionally unfiltered.
    ✞ Has a deep aversion to intoxication, due to his mother’s drinking.
    ✞ Once considered entering the seminary. Still knows ritual prayers by heart.
    ✞ Is drawn to cemeteries, confessionals, and abandoned churches.