Before the public learned of the crime he ended up infamous for, he was known to form any animal from origami paper.
A mostly-kind brother. A long distance runner, a wizard of electrical repair. Owner of a pickup truck who actually showed up when tree-hugging small-car friends moved house on short notice. The name’s now a synonym for monstrously unsavory behavior. It used to be simply another name.
Years before a victim got away alive and called the FBI, it’s fair to note that he was skilled with a potter’s wheel. He’s irredeemable, but he made his mother rock with laughter when she was sick from chemotherapy. He built her kitchen cabinets out of bird’s-eye maple the same summer he began digging out the underground chambers.
He roughed in a wall between the normal mind and the malevolence. At first perhaps he didn’t breach that wall. Later, of course, restraint failed completely. Before he was a bogeyman, even while he was one, he was always nimble with his hands.