Part 1

He wasn't the type of child to kill birds with a hammer
No, he was terrified of death before he met her
She tried to teach him not to be afraid
He ran anyway

Once he realized his mistake he was miles, and more importantly, years away
So he set out to find her

But even death herself is not immortal
And by the time he tracked her down through the roads and the towns and the faces, they were both taught of her ephemeral nature the hard way
And she was gone

He killed to win her back
At first it was animals
They were all from the pound, he could bear to suffocate them if he knew it was their fate
But the things he met in their frozen, defeated eyes were but her relatives
It enraged him to be reminded of her
By the time he began to feel comfortable killing, he was suddenly mutilating the sacrificed pets
It became a ritual for him to dissect and tear through the guts of his victims, with gloveless hands
The animal shelter stopped letting him adopt their dogs once he had gone through a dozen

He killed to win her back only most of the time now
Part of it was the testosterone rush; he was in the best shape of his life
It was an adventure to find his victims now, most often he would take dogs from neighbor's backyards
and then put them back in a hundred different places
The police became involved