Kenneth Chase- or "Jeffrey Hawk"

Kenneth Chase (Alias: Jeffery Hawk) was born into a small family of what would've been three if his mother hadn't succumbed to birth complications while bringing him into the world. Due to this, Kenneth and his father had never truly gotten along, and during the days he had grown up, this rift between him and his father grew larger and larger, to the point where Kenneth had never seen his father fully conscious or interested. His father, a seasoned alcoholic, had taken to drinking to soothe his frustration about his wife's death during labor.

Kenneth's father is always either passed out drunk on the living room couch or at work.

Kenneth grew up through school. He focused on his studies, where he had exemplary grades in mathematics and science. During his school days, he was forced to walk home each day, whereas he found and began collecting fallen feathers that lay dormant on the ground.

Kenneth, hypnotized by the soft feel of the feathers, had dreams of catching and touching a small bird for its soft feeling and to collect a feather. He had planned on releasing it afterwards.

So, using his knowledge in science and alchemy, he mixed an anesthetic for the birds and put it into the birdfeeder in his father's backyard. Eventually, a small robin fell for this trap and later found itself unconscious in his palms.

The rush of life filled Kenneth's heart with a feeling he would never forget. A rush of power and the knowledge that lives could be ended with only his hands. Slowly but surely, Kenneth felt his hands close around the unconscious robin. The bird, however, awakens and quickly attempts to struggle. But Kenneth kept constricting his hands around it.

The robin, now dead, lay in his palms, cold and unmoving. But soft. So, so soft.

Kenneth runs his fingers along the robin's carcass and picks out the softest feather, before discarding the rest of the bird as if it were nothing but offcut. He puts the feather into an old cigar box and stores it underneath his bed.

This was the first sign that Kenneth was going to be a psychotic killer in his future.

Kenneth, now larger, bigger, and stronger, had grown from a mere boy to a strong, young man. He resorted to working as a busboy during his high school days to support the failing state of his father's home. But he continues this practice of drugging birds and taking feathers, discarding their bodies. His feather collection was growing. But eventually, it got boring.

A young man, around Kenneth's age at the time, goes missing without a trace in his hometown. In reality, this young man was drugged, kidnapped, tortured, and killed by Kenneth himself to soothe his need to erase life. Drugged, bound, and forced into Kenneth's father's shed to be subjected to a horrifying ordeal of physical terror.

A few weeks after Kenneth discarded the young man's body, his father had a craving for old cigars. He finds Kenneth's cigar box under his bed and opens it to find an array of beautiful, soft birds' feathers, arranged in such a way that it seems to hide the shameful presence of a severed finger underneath. This was the young man's finger.

Kenneth came home to his father, looking through his collection, with an obviously distressed expression on his face. Disgusted by his father's need to breach privacy, he turned on his heel and walked out the door, never to return to his father's home.

Kenneth had eventually found a travelling circus that had offered him work. Seeing an opportunity to trick innocents, he accepts and crafts the alias of "Jeffery Hawk", a fun-loving, thrill-seeking, and overly friendly clown with his own caravan and pet horse named Maurice.

He had gone on to continue tricking innocent people. Young, old, man, woman, he didn't care. As long as they had fingers, he had taken it into his own hands to drug, bind, and torture them. Sometimes for days on end, he'd keep them in his caravan, stuffed into the corner with duct tape on their mouth, faces dry and only wet from groggy tears, bodies tranquilized and ankles and wrists tight together.

After a few days of toying with prey, he'd bring them to the table and find the finger best suited for him, sever it from the rest of the hand, strangle the person to death and bury their body as if they were nothing but garbage.

Kenneth Chase was born in 1932 by a difficult labour, which his mother wouldn't survive. This event drove a rift between him and his father that never closed. As the boy grew, so did his father's resentment, and his drinking habit. By the time Kenneth was at school, they lived mostly separate lives.

Academically, he was unremarkable, coasting by on his significant athletic prowess. He grew tall and strong, excelling at track events, but shunned any attempts to coax him into team sports.

On his walk home from school, he would often find feathers on the ground and he soon began a collection, keeping them in a cigar box under his bed. With his father either at work or in an alcohol-induced stupor, Kenneth had hours to spend alone, transfixed by the regularity of the feathers' barbs and the feeling of softness as he ran them over his lips. Watching the birds that came to the feeder in his garden, he imagined how soft they must be and resolved to catch one. He ingratiated himself with the local dentist, soon procuring some anaesthetic. Using this, he rigged up a trap on the feeder, that he hoped would knock out a bird long enough that he could touch it.

After a few failed attempts, he managed to trap a robin. As it lay in his hand, he felt a sudden rush, of a life at his mercy. He had planned to release it once it recovered from the anaesthetic. Instead, as its eyes flickered back into consciousness and it began to struggle, his grip remained firm. His fingers slowly tightened around its throat, squeezing until its chest feathers were finally still. He disposed of the body, keeping just a feather, with which he started a new collection, discarding the others as "fake".

By the late 1940s, Kenneth had left school and started working as a busboy at a local diner. He had also escalated to larger prey, like squirrels, raccoons and dogs, becoming skilled at customising the anaesthetic dosage for each.

In early 1954, a young man went missing and the town was turned upside down in the search. A few months later, Kenneth's father, while doing some work in the crawlspace under the house, found a cigar box. He broke it open and saw, to his horror, that it contained feathers, animal paws, and a man's finger.

Returning from work, Kenneth saw his father leaving the crawlspace with a cigar box in his hands. He turned on his heel and never went home again.

After a few weeks of living rough, he encountered a travelling circus and, with his prodigious strength, was hired to work the ropes. He assumed a new name: Jeffrey Hawk.

Suddenly surrounded by a close-knit community, "Jeffrey" had to learn to socialise. He donned a new personality like a disguise, quickly becoming known as charming and helpful, and was welcomed into his new family.

Over the next decade, he stayed with the circus, travelling the length and breadth of the United States. But, with the itinerant life providing few repercussions, he fell into bad habits. Drinks, junk food, drugs, he indulged in all of them to excess. For a time, these vices were enough, but then his old urges returned and his nomadic existence became a cover for him to resume killing. He stole clothes and make-up from performers, fashioning a disguise that would let him get close to his victims before he anaesthetised them, bringing them back to his caravan, where they would awake to find themselves bound and at his mercy. He would finally get to have his fun, mentally and physically torturing them, their screams fuelling him, before being lost in the night.

Once their strength was at its lowest, he would carefully examine their fingers, searching for the prettiest, running them over his tongue to find the tastiest. Once he found the best, he would cut it from their hand and proudly add it to his collection, disposing of the rest of the body as pointless waste.

Men, women, young, old, he didn't care. The essence of a good collection is in the variety, in the memories and stories they evoke.

He removed the costume less and less, shedding his old personality with it, fully embracing the clown, his true self.

Kenneth's methods of getting fingers go as follows. He tortures his victims (Both mentally and physically) until their strength is as low as it can be. Utilizing their momentary weakness, he pulls their hand toward him and licks their fingers to find the tastiest, then looks through them to find the best looking. Afterwards, he forces them onto the coffee table to cut said finger off. After doing so, he strangles the person to death and buries their corpse.