Before They Were Fireflys

It was a cold, December 23rd Day when the one known as "The Bastard With No Name came" came into this world. He was born in a shabby home that was little more than a cardboard box. His parents, both alcoholic drunks blamed his very existence on their poverty. Why there was no heat, not enough food, why his parents were drinking more than ever. It was all his fault according to them. His bed was nothing more than a thin worn out mattress on a dusty floor , with a thin blanket and a worn out pillow. Most of his clothing he had were salvation army giveaways. He was a skinny bastard albino, as his father had often called him. When he went to school, he often sported numerous bruises on his person. But child welfare was different in those days than it is today. If a child came to school sporting bruises from home it was often speculated that the child got them as a disciplinary means. And No Name had scores of them. Therefore, it stood to reason, that he was a problem child and got what he deserved.

No Name came home from school one day already regretting the weekend. Weekend meant more beatings. Often, he was beaten maybe at least once a day on any given day without warning when it was during school times. On the weekends, he was often beaten several times a day, often without warning. This was such a day. As soon as he came in through the door his father slammed into his face with his fist. No Name fell to the ground clutching his nose as the blood spurted through staining his already dirty shirt. Then his father removed his belt and began whipping him numerous times until bloody welts formed all over his bruised body. The reason for this beating, was his father was irritated. He had lost his job, again, due to drinking. And naturally, it was No Name's fault. When his mother found out that her husband lost his job, she took her turn in beating No Name.

This continued for a few years. Eventually No Name, got used to the beatings and they were more of an inconvienence to him rather than pain. He got use to the routine. Shirt off, pants down, fetch daddy's belt, and get ready. Sometimes he was burned with cigar butts. He took all of t his in stride. He learned that pain was only painful if you thought about it for feared it. He learned to tune it out. As he grew older, he listened in on other schoolmates on how their daddy's taught them to use a gun, a knife, whatever. He even learned from a transient on how to gield dress a deer that was hunted down. And had his first rape. The transient had acquired a 17 year old girl, and had bound, stripped her naked. After the transient had taken his turn with the teen, he invited the 13 year old No Name to take his turn. No Name agreed. The girl fighting to get away beneath him aroused him even more. He climaxed and crawled off of her panting. Then the transient handed him a gun, and told him to finish what he had started. "you can't leave a bitch alive after what you just did. She'll tell the cops and you'll go to prison. You know what they do to pretty boys like you in prison?" The Transient had asked him.

No Name pulled the trigger spraying blood everywhere. Then, feeling more aroused, he ropped his pants, and fucked her corpse. He found this intensely arousing. Somehow fucking a dead body, made him feel better. He left the girl and returned home carrying the gun the transient had given him. As soon as he entered, he went through the tradition of beatings, and name calling. Then he pulled out his surprise. He leveled the gun at his parents. "Hey, boy, were still your ma and pa." his father had told him. The man and woman were scared. No Name grinned. He loved the feeling of fear when it came from someone else. "You know, you made me who I am today. You taught me that its best to get them first before they get you. Well guess what fuckers? Im gonna get you first!" He squeezed the trigger putting a bullet into each of their heads. He then grabbed whatever food he could and whatever money they had laying around. He grabbed his father's other gun and went for the door.

No Name was going to start a new life for himself. But first, he needed a name to go by and to tell others should they ask who he was. He picked the first name that came to his mind. Otis Driftwood. A character from a show he knew of. That day, Otis Driftwood left childhood behind, and became the psychotic murderer he was to become. All at the age of 13.