𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚑. 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚠𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙼𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎... 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝙸 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘. 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜.

Greetings, people. Many are curious as to what the childhood of a serial killer could be. There are many other fan stories and videos out there as to what it could be, but I'm going to take a stab it now from a first person perspective. This is meant to be an autobiography-styled story, but it is by no means accurate. It'll be full of made up elements and characters. So, get ready to learn the true origins of the one they call the "Purple Man." Side note: This is my first real narrative project, so please go easy with the criticism. Thanks :)