"How long have you been doing all of this?" Mr Schwann inquired Wyatt, smoking a cigarette while the two stood in the backyard, overlooking the lake.

"Ever since I was 14 or 15 I guess."

"You have real talent, son. You're good at what you do."

Wyatt nodded, sighing as he leaned back, breathing in the second hand smoke. He occasionally glanced over to the man to see if he was losing consciousness, or slurring his words beyond the point of being sober. But he sounded perfectly fine - nothing seemed off.

Once Mr Schwann was done with his cigarette, he flicked the butt, grinding it with the heel of his loafers. He gave out a small cough, gaining a desperate look from Wyatt.

Why can't he just die already, it was enough of a dosage.

"So, tell me about your hobbies, what interests you?" He looked over at Wyatt, seeing the bored expression on his face.

Wyatt thought about his answer for a moment. Of course, it was evident what he enjoyed doing in his spare time; experimenting and taking care of his child, but was that really the answer Mr Schwann was looking for? He would be dead in a few hours, if not minutes.

"I enjoy killing people." He responded coldly.

Unfortunately, Mr Schwann didn't catch on to the reality, and a small laugh escaped his mouth.

"You're quiet the comedian, aren't you?"

"I guess you could say that."

"Tell me Wyatt, what do you enjoy about killing  people?"

"The sensation of knowing that I took their life away. Mainly watching the life being sucked out of them. It's quiet an amazing feeling - you should try it."

Mr Schwann cackled, shaking his head.

"Okay, sure. Let's do it." He shrugged, assuming the whole thing was a joke.

"Alright, one moment."

He went down to the tool shed which lied far off the house and lake. Wyatt grabbed the woman, who's eyes had been surgically gauged out. The shackles held her feet close by together, making the chances of escaping zero to none.

She fumbled in her steps, fear racing throughout her almost dying body. Wyatt had a strong grip on her upper arm, forcefully pulling her towards Mr Schwann. The shackles clanked loudly, her feet shuffling through the dirt grass.

The man gasped, standing back in shock as he saw the woman.

"This is quite the role play, Wyatt."

He finally let go of the woman, making her roam out her hands to find where she was.

"P-Please, help me..." Her weak, tired voice croaked out, knowing that there was someone else there besides Wyatt.

Mr Schwann stared in shock, evaluating the woman who he assumed was a paid actor. Meanwhile, Wyatt handed him a gun with the tip painted orange.

"Shoot her in the jugular notch." Wyatt indicated the area. "It's a role play after all."

Mr Schwann agreed, grabbing the gun from Wyatt's hand and holding it in his own. He positioned the gun close by her jugular notch.

"She won't die, it'll be as if she did, but then again, it's just a role play."

Mr Schwann nodded, pulling the trigger. It impaled the woman's jugular notch, pushing her backwards as the blood started to gush out of her mouth.

"Wow, fascinating." He examined the dead body, throwing the gun down as he crouched down to the level of the now dead woman.

Wyatt didn't bother grabbing the gun, knowing he would be dead soon. Him being gullible to the whole act was going to be his cause of death anyway.

Mr Schwann grabbed a handkerchief from a secret pocket which lied in his coat. He coated his finger with it, poking at the wound. Once he took a quick sniff, he realized what he had done. His body started to become numb, his vision blurry.

Wyatt stared down at his helpless victims, having a cold expression throughout their deaths as they happened right in front of him. For him, this was the equivalent of having the worlds best sex, orgasming at the sight of life being ripped away from the weak, defenseless people in front of him, and knowing he was the reason for it.

"No one's going to find you two anyway." He whispered, kneeling down to Mr Schwann as he tried to grab onto Wyatt in anger.

Wyatt gave himself a little smirk. He wrapped leashes around each of their necks, tightening them to make sure they were dead and wouldn't be gasping for air. Mr Schwann - who had some life left in him - attempted to grab onto Wyatt's feet, but his body was shutting down, failing any chance of survival.

Wyatt dragged them to the one, large open grave he had dug out beforehand for victims that died the same day. He placed their body at the edge of the grave, spitting on them as he kicked the two down to the six feet deep hole.

———

"Wyatt, don't go playin' outside for too long now, you got that?" Katie called out to her son, hoping her voice had reached his ears as the little boy rushed out of the house.

Their home was surrounded by trees, almost everywhere you would turn - there would be a tree. It was cozy for a small family of three to live inside the woods, but not too deep inside. The boys needed formal education and the sometimes Wyatt would enjoy eating fast food.

The 12 year old kicked some rocks, before finding an injured rabbit lying on its belly, its hind leg showing obvious signs of an injury.

Wyatt stared at it, wondering what he could do to save it. Although his mother had never taught him much about wildlife, he almost always figured it out for himself. He looked around for a sharp rock, eventually finding one. The boy got on his knees, raising his arm up high and bludgeoning the animal with his rock. He continued to do so until the animals eyes shut, indicating it had died.

***

"Dean! What did I say specifically about smoking? Especially marijuana?" Katie exclaimed at her younger son, standing in front of him with her arms against her hips.

"Just fuck off, alright? It's none of your business anyway." Dean grabbed the zip loc bag from his mother, throwing it on the side table.

"You listen to me young m-" She was interrupted by Dean immediately grabbing her throat with vicious strength, looking her in her eye.

"You enjoy being such a cunt, don't you?" Dean pushed his mother onto the, forcefully straddling her as he did so. He pulled tightly at the waistband of her old fashioned skirt.

Katie begged and pleaded her son to stop, but her pleas weren't going through to the abuser who stayed on top of her.

Dean had his pants removed by the time she accepted her fate, yet another night of where she had to keep the dirty little secret her son wanted her to keep.

While Katie shut her eyes, dreading what was coming next - gunshot erupted her ears, followed by Dean falling on top of her, bleeding out from his head.

Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this chapter - I gave a little flashback of Wyatt's childhood and how he got into being insane; so that's why this chapter was a little longer than the rest.

What did you guys think of this chapter? I decided to add two incidents to show you how his insanity comes in handy for certain situations - of course I am not encouraging killing but if your younger brother is sexually abusing your mother I don't see why killing isn't an option.

Leave me your guys' thoughts for this chapter in the comments + tell me how you think this story is going to go on from here - I'd love to hear your guys' thoughts and opinions.

Thank you all so much for the reads, votes, comments & feedback! x