(So, I know this isn't a xreader chapter. But, its still as good and I just got the idea. So, I hope you guys enjoy it.)

You would never see it coming.

As quick as it comes, it goes.

When you see it, you're dead before you can scream.

But it, wasn't always it. It was a he.

"How did this happen?" You may be asking yourself.

Well, I'll tell you his story.

His life was horrid, typical drunk father that beat on him and his mother. His name was Spencer. He was blamed for things, he had no control of. His mother was the only thing, he cared for. That man didn't deserve the title "father", it wasn't until one night that it was all over for him.

Another night of pain and agony, the drunken buffoon was beating on his wife. Blaming her for running out of beer, the son, Spencer, tried to stop him. Tried to protect the one person that loved him, but it was futile because of his small size. Like the saying goes, "Small people can do BIG things."

The son tried, but was thrown back against the wall by the back-hand of his drunken father. His mother tried to go to him, but was pulled back and brutally battered. The drunk then decided to up his game and shattered the empty bottle, making it a deadly weapon. The boy's eyes widened in fear as he watched, his "father" drive the sharp object into his mother's stomach. Over and over again. 35 times, he thrust the blood covered bottle into his wife out of drunken rage.

The boy cried and cried, screaming and begging him to stop. But it was too late, his mother now laid on the floor. Blood pouring from her body onto the floor, the boy crawled over to his dead mother's body. He cradled her head, whispering for her to not leave him. Little did the now passed out man know, he would never awake again. As the son sat there, the more it began to sink into his system.

"He killed her. He killed her. He killed her." The voices echoed into his mind.

He killed his mother, the only person who loved him. His eyes began to dilate and anger replaced the sad expression that once covered his face, he got up. His mother's blood stained his clothes, he grabbed the fireplace poker and set it in the flames to get hot. It soon turned red, showing it was hot to the touch. He clenched the handle in his hand and walked over to the fat fuck, anger still evident on his face. He raised the iron rod over his head, then....LET IT ALL OUT.

He repeated struck the bastard, that killed his mom. Over and over with immense force and sudden strength, the smell of burning flesh filled the air. Blood splattered everywhere, but all the while as the boy continued to hit and wack at the dead fucker that laid before him. He began to laugh, not a giggle or a little cackle. He began to laugh, a laugh so loud, so crazy sounding, a laugh that was filled with INSANITY. It was so loud, the sound bounced off the walls and echoed throughout the house. He soon stopped whacking the dead body, his gaze went to his dead mother. He walked over to her and kissed her head, before running off into the forest. Claiming the woods as his hunting grounds and his home, all that come into the forest, NEVER. EVER. LEAVE. After many disappearances and rumors, the woods were eventually searched only to find a pile of bones. Cleaned off with very little flesh left on them, the smell of rotten flesh could be smelled a mile away.

Only one, survived his clutches. Soon, telling the press about the blur of movement that almost took her life. Giving the boy the name "The Killer Blur".