He was never normal growing up, people had always feared him. It only got worse as he got older.
Putting kids in hospitals, getting into drugs, anything, you name it.
It wasn't until he was sixteen that he made his first kill. Now being eighteen, he has killed roughly 16 people, and no regrets about any of it.
He had never been caught, and he never planned to.
The thrill, the rush, seeing the helpless body beneath him, he felt on top. He felt like he was the ruler, he was the one they had to obey.
It didn't stop with just simple murder, he loved to hold people hostage, torture them. With every new victim, he only got better.
Nothing felt better than looking down and seeing your hands stained with that bastards blood, or holding that whores guts in your hands smirking.
He loved it, loved it all. This was his life.