It was almost like a second basement, only smaller and maybe as big as a bedroom. There were victims tied up, blood staining the concrete walls and floor.

Bloody Bobby was holding a sledgehammer, bashing it down on a culprit’s head. As he slammed it down on their skull with a loud cracking noise, the boy he was killing writhed under the hammer, body convulsing and spasming.

The blood splattered everywhere and Bloody Bobby turned to face you, studying your expression before grabbing the camera that was propped up and filming the victims death.

Anyone would feel uneasy by the sight of the gore and Bobby’s wicked smirk.