Present Day
It was a dark night in the Oregon town of Hellview.
The clock tower of the city hall chimed out its 12-Midnight bells. The hollow sound resonated around the deathly-silent town's buildings and surrounding valley, yet not a soul was on the streets to hear its mournful, melancholy drone.
Well, not a entirely mortal soul at least.
In the murky shadows of Hellview, The Butcher emerged from his lair. Silently, he stalked the blackness seeking his next victim, pausing only to watch a police patrol car as it drove slowly by.
Moonlight glowed onto The Butcher, highlighting him and his deadly machete in all their masochistic glory. The duct tape that messily adorned his clothed limbs creaked and strained with the tense muscles bulging underneath it. Adrenaline and anticipation flooded through The Butcher's dead veins as he moved in for the kill.
The battle between himself and the original Butcher raged on inside him. It made his bones ache with the effort it took to restrain the power, but he was determined not to let the original Butcher get the better of him, flooding him with more blood lust, and making his veins pound with the lust for the kill whenever a potential quarry walked by.
It was an insatiable lust and try as he might, no matter how violently he murdered one night, the next night he would be yearning to kill once again.
The night was a shroud around him. It left him alone with his thoughts eating away at him, making his mind cast back to his childhood and teen years, cruelly reminding him of all the pain he suffered in his younger years.
12 Years Ago –Oregon State High School
In a jostling school corridor, a lonely 15 year old wafted anonymously through the swarming crowd of hormonal teens, all asking each other out to the Spring Fling – a popular dance at the school, which happened every year.
With long, blonde hair tied up in a ponytail, braces and plenty of constant bruises from many fights, Deron Miller never got asked to go to the Spring Fling - not with anyone.
He was an unpopular person due to previously having no friends who joined the school with him, and also being a little bit strange. His interests in old horror movies, death metal music and other unusual things had rendered him 'uncool' in a demographic obsessed with chick flicks, pop music and slapstick comedy films.
Playing guitar instead of participating in sports of any kind also rendered him unpopular with the vast majority of pupils in the Oregon State High School, who happened to be the blissfully, and somewhat jokingly popular Jocks who everyone liked. The way it worked in that school was if you didn't like the Jocks, or you weren't one, then you were nothing; a nobody.
Deron was the shy, retiring type, and was not the kind of person who wanted to be the centre of attention. He liked to believe if he didn't speak to anyone, or didn't hassle people, then they would avoid him likewise; although that was rarely ever the case.
Almost every day after school had ended at 3.30, the three most popular, muscular jocks in the school dragged Deron by his long blonde ponytail into the middle of the sports field and beat him up mercilessly. Crowds gathered around to watch the spectacle unfold, whooping and cheering the jocks on, never helping; until the Principal of the school would finally come along to separate them. The jocks were never punished, and it sickened him.
Deron learnt to never fight back, all it would do was cause more trouble and get him beaten up more.
He would then head home at 4pm every day, bruised and battered, and self harm himself as a way of trying to release all the pain and tears inside him. He wasn't afraid to reopen old wounds either.
For two long years the beatings and self harming went on for Deron, until he met Amanda.