A beginning of a story (Jackbox edition)

A Killer's Roots: Butterfly wings.

Synopsis

No matter how fast or how far you run; you can never run away from yourself...

Several years after successfully running away from his childhood home: a man tries to find his calling without following in the footsteps of his family. But after an encounter with the dark; he eventually caves into the temptation and regrets not doing it sooner!

Set before Trivia Murder Party: this story takes place when it was simply known as Trivia or Die and follows the infamous killer when he was nothing.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  

It's all your fault. 

You could have stopped this.

She's dead because of you.

Why didn't you do anything?

Those thoughts echoed without mercy in the young boy's head as he packed his things in his trusty bear and he mourned the fresh lost of his older sister.

She couldn't see the water, as she was blind.

She couldn't feel the water, as her boots were very hydrophobic.

She simply slipped and her grasp gravitated towards the power switch.

It was very clearly an accident, but the boy felt like he was the one who caused his sibling's demise. After all; he did push poor uncle Clive down the elevator shaft. He didn't know what brought him to do it, his parents kept insisting that this was normal and that every boy goes though this, but he never believed them. His friends never mentioned going though that, and when he asked them; they just looked at him like he's gone mad.

And now, another member he was insanely close to has met their demise. The only person left who felt sane in this house of natural lunatics.

After everything he needed was packed snug inside Mr. Stuffles, his trusty teddy, he silently opened the window. His calves now dangling outside the window sil: he took a deep breath and pushed himself off.

His legs hurt like hell from falling out of a two story window, but he did not care. The pain internally greatly blocked out the pain externally as he ran and ran the most his aching legs would let him. He ran faster and faster and even faster than that, teary eyed from guilt and agony he kept on running and running. He ran far enough to see his old prison vanish from the horizon, but he didn't stop there.

He ran till he couldn't see the dead trees surrounding his house, he ran till he couldn't see the street that lead to his old "home". He ran till he couldn't recognize anything anymore. He kept going till his legs physically could not support him anymore, yet his runner's high gave him enough adrenaline to go even beyond his body's limitation. He kept running despite his legs cracking and crumbling below with the amount of stress he's forcing on them.

He doesn't wanna go back, he never wants to go back. He promised to himself to run the farthest he could from that hellhole and never look back. Little did he know that several years later he would break that promise.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  

A man in an oversized trenchcoat takes his morning stroll on the cracked sidewalk to his local coffee shop, his outfit wasn't unusual for this time, as it was autumn, yet he took the time to hide his face. The man wasn't the typical kind of ugly, some say he was quite attractive under his rose tinted glasses and hand knitted scarf. But to him he was nothing more than the spinning image of his unbeloved parental figures.