A/N - A little something I wrote for my Fetac exams. AU, rated for violence, death and insanity.

Blood runs down the walls of the decrepit compound. A warped grin crosses his face as he basks in the screams that still echo throughout the rooms. The evident agony is like ambrosia to him and he bares his teeth in ecstasy as he relives their terror over and over in his mind. He is well aware that this is his descent into madness and he revels in it. Sanity was far too conforming for his tastes, the sweet bliss of delirium is what he craves, what he feeds upon.

They were his family by blood but they held no place in his blackened heart. By the time they realised how much of a monster he had become it was too late, for them, for anyone to stop him. He took them by surprise with his rage, his thirst for their blood, the blood which even now stains his clothes, his skin and his teeth.

Maniacal laughter pours from his stained lips as he catches sight of his mothers stricken eyes, still staring blankly ahead, uncomprehending, even in death. "Oh but mother dear, can't you see? I am merely what you made me." He croons to the corpse, stroking her hair with plasma stained fingers, leaving red streaks throughout her once beautiful raven locks.

He knows now that this is what he is meant to be, that this distorted replica of who he once thought himself to be is the real him. It was merely a matter of finding a way to release it. They will never again cage the monster that he was held inside for so long. It has been freed and so shall it remain. He shall shatter this once fragile world and coat his face with the blood of those that stand in his way.

He wanders over to the remains of his father, as graceful as though he himself were a ghost, as though he is bound to the earth by the thinnest of strings. His cloak splays behind him in a sick mockery of wings, despite there being no wind. He spared his father no pain, taking care to cause him as much agony as possible before severing his last ties to the mortal realm.

His merciless treatment of his father was further fuelled by a deep seated hatred of all that the man represented to him, his imprisonment within himself, his continuous torment as he was pushed beyond his limits before he could even walk.

There is the faintest creak of a door and a startled cross between a yelp and a gasp. His lips draw back into a perverse smirk of delight. It seems that his little brother has returned. He rolls his head back to eye the small boy from over his shoulder. The child is frozen in place as his eyes see what he does not want to believe.

He delights in the horror upon the boys face as he finally comes to realise what has happened. All he can see is his beloved older brother, amidst the corpses of their family with no enemy in sight. A fanatical joy sweeps through him as his brother falls to his knees and vomits on the carpet in shock.

This was what he wanted, what he needed. To see the terror in his eyes and the panic as he is forced to accept that the world is not as pretty as he once thought. With one swift movement, he has the child pinned to the wall, his slender fingers closing around the boys' throat, relishing every choked gasp and sob that emits.

"Wh...what? W...Wh...wh..." "Why? Is that what you want to say?" He teases the boy, scorning his weak attempt at talking around the digits currently constricting his airway. "Well, maybe I was ordered to, perhaps it was to save you from something horrendous but far more likely it was to indulge my blood lust. And now, I'm going to kill you."

Coldly, he releases his grip on his brother and watches as he slides to the floor, rubbing his throat in agony. It is clear that the child has yet to absorb his final statement. Well, he would wait until it sunk in. A chase would make this, his final kill, that much more enjoyable.

He can pinpoint the precise moment when it sinks in as his brother freezes up and then pushes himself to his feet and sprints for the door. The boy is fast but he is faster. Just as his stubby little fingers close around the handle, a thin, serrated blade slices through him, ending his short, pointless and pathetic farce of life.

Somehow, the police have been alerted. He knows this the minute he looks up and sees the far away blue lights heading straight for the compound. Without pause, he races out and away, disappearing beneath the full moon.

There is a full scale search launched for the Fanatical Family Slayer, as the papers dub him, but he is never found. A number of other bodies are later attributed to him but the only visible pattern is the fact that he always kills families. He uses different techniques, strikes at any time and never kills in a specific radius.

Epilogue

Five years later, a thin, dark haired man peruses a newspaper in a cafe in Paris. It seems that the Fanatical Family Slayer has struck again, this time in Mexico. As the waitress arrives with his check, he asks, "What's this all about then? I've been away, for my health you see." She looks shocked that there is someone who does not know of the Slayer. "Zat is ze insane killer known as ze FFS. 'e slaughtered 'is entire family and zen disappeared off ze face of ze earth." "How...horrid." "Well, monsieur, ze most we can do is be zankful zat 'e 'as not yet struck 'ere 'in ze 'eart of Paris." "Oui, oui, of course." "Well, good day monsieur. I 'ope you 'ave enjoyed your lunch." The waitress sauntered off, kind of hoping that the handsome man had noticed her.

With a smirk, the man folded up his newspaper and decided that perhaps it was time for the FFS to strike in the city of romance. Indeed, it would be most interesting to test the 'famed' Parisian police...

A/N Sometimes, I scare myself. R&R please!