A few years ago, you were taken in by the state as a child with no known family. You'd killed the man who took you in prior - a scientist - with a baseball bat full of nails, and the rest of the scientists there will a poison of your own making. Then you ran, and the police simply didn't believe that you could have done it, so you were taken and put in a group home, a ward of the state.

Now, you and the other children in your age group had been taken on a camping trip. There were reports of a serial killer in the area, rumors that the others whispered about when you were settling down to sleep. You weren't scared, though, and not just because you still had a few vials of your special poison that only your gas mask could block. No, you'd seen the broadcasts, and you would recognize the face of your big brother Toby anywhere, even if they were talking about the atrocities he was committing. He'd never hurt you, and it wasn't like you were one to judge.

Woken up from your peaceful sleep by the stifled scream of one of your bunkmates, you found yourself among a panicked group. You could smell blood in the air immediately, tracking it to its source with a single glance - the axe held in your big brother's hand.

"Q-Quh-Quiet," he mumbled, voice rough. "I'm n-not here to hurt ya." His head twitched to side with a quiet cracking sound. His arms jerked as he stepped further in, trailing blood from the boy he'd decapitated's body. His dark eyes scanned around the room, his body twitching, until they settled on you. A smile spread across his scarred lips. "Th-There you are..."