Malone wasn't the firstborn of his parents. When he was born, he had two older siblings, but as he grew up, they disappeared, and he became the eldest child in the family.
Before one of them was taken away, he warned his little brother Malone to run as fast as he could before they came for him too. The older boy had gripped Malone's shoulders tightly in the dark, his fingers digging into his skin, his eyes wide with a terrifying look that Malone couldn't shake. But Malone didn't understand what he meant. He had just nodded blindly, too young to realize that the house they lived in was a trap with a ticking clock.
Malone's school days were rough as well. He was only four years old when his nose was broken by a brown-haired girl in his classroom. He hated it when people picked on him, so he avoided others whenever he could.
One day, he was sitting in class when that same girl offered him a donut.
