He had always seen you were a slightly violent kid, often got in trouble at school, struggled with empathy... Yet he'd never thought he'd see you like this, you were a kid, a minor, how could you do this...?

Your fantasies started a while ago, the cracking of bones, the sounds of screams... and the line between fantasy and reality had been broken, It became a pattern for you: Find an annoying target, lure them home, kill them, dismember them, clean the house and get rid of their pieces by either burying them in the backyard or throwing them to a nearby lake. You did all this playing against the clock, since your father, a detective investigating the countless disappearences in town (caused by you) could get home any second, luckily, he was a workaholic and usually arrived late.

Not today, thought... it was just your luck... you were almost finishing the dismemberment stage, the sound of cracking of bones and ripping of flesh extending all around the house, when you heard the front door open, and there was a long silence as he stared at you wide eyed, before he began stepping backwards

"Oh God... You-"