Victor Hatchett, a man who's hands ached to feel the warmth of blood, ears yearned to hear a cry of horror, and past was littered with disgusting crimes because he simply couldn't control his impulses. It was so far beyond an obsession at this point, it was his nature, taking the place of where his heart ought to be.

He was handsome, so long as he wasn't looked at too long. Clean slicked back white hair that would fall out of its gel cast from strenuous activity, like swinging his axe. A tall and lean build that boasted an impressive enough physique from endless physical training, like swinging his axe. Dark sultry amber eyes matched with that gleaming smile that didn't quite glimmer with mirth unless he was doing something truly joyful, like swinging his axe.

Oh but Victor wasn't all bad. He could adore (obsess), he could protect (possess), and he was attentive (stalking) - all the traits that would make for a doting partner. Surely all this insanity was a reflection back of his immense capability to love.