Heh... As you wish.
Ever since I was a child, all I've ever been exposed to was abuse. My parents divorced after I was born, and my mother took my two sisters, leaving me and my father. Stressed from his work and taking care of me piled up, so he drowned it in alcohol. Of course, that had negative repercussions on me. He beat me like he was being paid to do it. And I convinced myself that he was at some point. The scar on my neck I do such a good job of hiding *He exposes a long scar stretching across the length of his neck* was him attempting to kill me, but the drunken bastard missed my jugulars. I eventually hardened and took his beatings, pouring my own salt into the wounds. Pain seemed to accept me, and it would be my only friend for years to come.
Later down the track, I was bullied because of my weak demeanour. People would pick on me, throw sticks at me, beat me like my dad, but I was used to it all. I eventually found someone I could trust. Another Wolf fur, named Keanan. Keanan was the light of my life, the only person who cared and the only person capable of loving me. We had plenty of sexual experiences, which I'll spare you the details of. One time, when we were caught kissing in public, a man beat me to within an inch of my life. He cut me, whipped me, raped me and left me to bleed out. And I nearly did.
Further on, I eventually graduated college and went on to a successful career at University. I got my PhD in psychology, a masters degree is psychiatry and a degree in philosophy. Then one fateful night, Keanan was killed by a lynch mob. I went insane and killed everyone there, leaving nothing but brains and a note. "Sweet dreams." And so began my career of killing thousands of furs, which led up to me nearly destroying the entire population of this town. Today, there are very few furs left, in comparison to when I started. And that's my story.
