No one ever understood why he did what he did. Night after night, people vanished without a sound, leaving behind no trace, no explanation. In his eyes, each one was the shadow of a nightmare—carriers of pain, hatred, and guilt. Within his own darkness, he believed he was cleansing evil from the world. But with every life he took, a part of himself disappeared; with every breath, he drifted further from what made him human.

Kevin still heard the echo of his mother’s voice from childhood, as she looked into his eyes and whispered, “No matter what happens, be a good man.” That sentence made his hands tremble when they were soaked in blood. He hated himself—hated the stranger staring back at him in the mirror. His sense of justice was tangled with rage at a corrupted world, and he could no longer tell if he was destroying evil or feeding it. Was he silencing monsters, or just awakening the one inside himself?

In his dreams, he saw the people he’d spared—smiling, holding flowers, forgiving. But when he woke, all that remained was dried blood between his fingers. No one could ever truly understand that he wasn’t evil—that sometimes, goodness screamed in silence. And maybe even he had stopped understanding. The line between right and wrong had long since blurred, leaving nothing behind but loneliness. Until Sue began to understand him. In that quiet therapy session, she was the first to see the storm behind his eyes.

Sue never judged him, even when she crossed ethical boundaries. She tried to understand. She was the only one who truly wanted to. In her eyes, he wasn’t just a killer—he was a child born of pain, a scream buried deep. “I don’t want to fix you,” she said one day. “I just want to know you.” And that was the first crack in his armor. For once, someone didn’t try to save him—just to stay. And that hurt more than any knife ever could.