Prologue (Part One)

Sherwood, Ohio, October 1992:

"Be a man!" Mr. Shermer yelled as he whipped his son, Quentin, for what must have been the 40th time that day.

The young boy just laid on the garage floor, silently wincing as the pain went on. He had been used to this type of torture for as long as he can remember.

"Dinner is ready!" Mrs. Shermer yelled from the kitchen. The boys got up and Mr. Shermer whispered something into Quentin's ear.

"You got lucky this time, boy."

"So, how was work today?" Mrs. Shermer asked her boys.

"Terrible. That boy couldn't make a single sale because he's too much of a pansy," Mr. Shermer said, referring to his son.

"Quentin, how many times do we need to tell you?" Mrs. Shermer said, before her son started to lip sync to her next words. "You can't make a living without shak-"

And that was the last thing Quentin heard before a hard smack came across his face.

"Don't you dare act like that to your mother!" Mr. Shermer said.

Quentin just simply nodded and dinner continued on like normal.

Well, normal for the Shermer family.

Later that night, Quentin was awakened by the sound of a window smashing. He immediately got out of bed and looked out the window. It was those street teens, dressed up for homecoming, trashing his father's butcher shop. Again.

Mr. Shermer got to the shop right before Quentin did, gun in hand. Stones were flying everywhere, breaking everything. "Hey!" Mr. Shermer said to the teens, "Get out of my shop!"

Just as he was about to fire, a huge stone knocked him out on his forehead. The teens approached him, hitting with stones until there was blood surrounding the whole body. All while Quentin stood out of sight, too frozen to do anything.

When the teens noticed that their work was done, they left the shop, leaving Quentin to see his father's lifeless body for the first time. He ran up and started shaking him, but no response was made.

Quentin knew what he should be feeling. Sad, angry, maybe a bit confused? But he didn't feel those things.

He felt joy.

So much so that he decided to show it off to those murderous teens in the best way possible.

Quentin grabbed his father's gun and ran outside, where the teens were just getting out of the driveway. They may have been in a car, but he gave a headshot to each and every one of them.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

It was then that Quentin realized that his mother was a witness.

He turned and saw her, panicked with tears running down her face. "HOW COULD YOU?!" Mrs. Shermer screeched. "The p-police are on th-their way!"

Quentin slowly raised his gun. "No, no, p-please, I'm so sor-"

And those were Mrs. Shermer's last words before she dropped dead on the ground.

Quentin knew that he needed to run. A lifetime in prison wouldn't do him any good. But first?

He needed to have a little bit of fun.

He grabbed a butcher knife out of the shop and sliced his mother's head off. He then grabbed his father's car keys, and drove off to the nearest Dairy Queen, dropping her head off at the place she hated the most. "No good options," she had always said.

Quentin was filled with rage, but also inexplicable joy as he sped away from his hometown.

The Sherwood Police Department never did catch him that night. They had a few close calls when he came back on a murder spree every few years, always around homecoming. Over time, the name "Quentin Shermer" went away and was replaced by "The Sherwood Shredder."

The Shredder committed heinous crimes in other states as well, but there was nothing like murdering teens in Sherwood, OH.

Until one fateful night in 2021.

A/N: Well, what do you guys think?

Thanks to inkyfrosting3217 for beta reading!