John had always been the odd one out, ever since his childhood. His parents were never happy about him, no matter how hard he tried. His schoolmates teased him mercilessly, and even his teachers seemed to think of him as a lost cause.
He never heeded their reprimands, but he secretly vowed that he'll show them someday.
His first victim was a young woman he'd been in love with for quite some time. When he eventually manned up and told her about his feelings, she simply laughed in his face and walked away.
That evening he picked the lock of her apartment, woke her up before cutting through her skin with a steel blade. The look of sheer terror he caught in her eyes thrilled him to no ends, and he knew he'd finally found the one thing in life that he could excel in.
After methodically cleaning up the scene, a sudden inspiration prompted him to dip his gloved fingers in the victim's blood. Then he painted a smiling face on the wall, a mocking reminder to the world that he was smarter than they thought him to be.
The next morning he switched on the radio before brewing a cup of Earl Grey to perfection. The anchorman was babbling about a heinous murder that had been committed overnight, he only smiled as he sipped his favorite beverage.
In the following days he heard them call him by any sort of silly nicknames. The Smiling Face Killer wasn't so bad after all – but he would have liked something more meaningful, and ominous too. Were he allowed to choose, he would have gone for something like The Merry Reaper.
In the end they settled for Red John – probably a combination of John Doe and the color of blood – and he couldn't say he wasn't pleased with that. It also amused him that John was his real first name, though he surely wasn't going to tell them anytime soon.
He got several fake identities ready, just in case. As he kept on practicing his favorite hobby, he decided that he would probably need the help of other people too.
It wouldn't do for him to pick mere accomplices though. They might as well betray him at any given moment, and that was obviously out of the question.
However, it didn't take him long to find out that among the general reprobation there were also people who admired him, people who'd do anything to gain his friendship.
That was how a few selected disciples were added to the newborn Red John cult. They were ready to die for him, and he relished the prospect of having faithful servants at his beck and call.
He went on with his career of choice, all the while hiding behind his carefully constructed façade of a respectable man who wouldn't hurt a fly. As the years went by, however, he became more and more aware of an underlying sense of dissatisfaction he couldn't quite explain.
It took him a while to finally admit the truth. Killing people without getting caught was way too easy for him, and he was slowly growing tired of it all.
A much welcome diversion stepped into his life at that point; he'd never been one to believe in coincidences, and therefore greeted it as a clear sign it was time for him to up the stakes.
From the moment he saw him speaking on TV he knew that Patrick Jane would be a worthy opponent, and he simply couldn't wait to put his wits against the supposed psychic.
He took great delight in looking Mrs. Jane in the eyes as life was slowly draining away from her face. However, he couldn't bring himself to wake up the golden haired little girl that was sleeping in the next room – he simply put her out of her misery in the quickest way, and dropped a small kiss on top of her head when he was done.
He was marginally disappointed to hear about Patrick Jane's breakdown, but then it was only natural for a man who blamed himself for the tragedy that had befallen his family.
If only he knew. John wasn't so petty to seek revenge in such a way, had he not set his sights onto a higher goal. As soon as his chosen adversary was out of the mental institution and within the walls of the CBI, he knew he had finally achieved his purpose.
So their little game of cat and mouse began. John always made sure he was a step ahead of Patrick, but never too far from his reach. He truly enjoyed being chased by a man with such skills, and he kept on killing just to spice things up a bit.
It amused him to see his enemy spiraling closer to that petite firecracker that was his boss. The woman was nothing like his late wife, but apparently she was the only one who still managed to keep him sane.
And John wanted him to stay sane, otherwise his fun would be completely spoilt.
A couple of years later he started looking for a new acolyte, one that he would use specifically to drag Patrick Jane to his side. She was an intriguing brunette in her early twenties, reckless with a touch of cynicism that surely wouldn't hurt.
There was only one difficulty to his plan, and that was the bond between the woman and her newfound sister. That was why Miranda Roman had to die, and in a way that wouldn't suggest any connection to Red John.
He dated her for a while, before luring her into an abandoned warehouse where he took her against her will; then he left her to die from dehydration and hyperthermia.
Lorelei Martins was completely broken at the news of her sister's murder, her only source of comfort being alcohol and drugs.
When she finally hit rock bottom, John stepped in as her savior and took her under his wing.
Lorelei was very grateful to him, and soon learned to depend on him for everything. He taught her to accept pain, for pain would turn her into a stronger woman. He kissed away her tears, made love to her until she fell for him completely.
Someday, she would be the key to get to his foe. Not yet, though.
He still had to mold her into the role he had thought for her, and that would probably take several years. In the meanwhile, he might as well enjoy her company; Lorelei was good in bed, definitely better than any of the random women he'd had brief encounters with over the years.
And if the naïve girl thought that he was in love with her too, she would be even meeker when it came to following his orders to the letter.