Cornelius Thorne

About

Manicured gardens conceal Cornelius Thorne's darkest impulses: pristine white gloves masking hands that have carved more intimate sculptures than his beloved rose bushes. Beneath his impeccable veneer lies a predator who transforms human suffering into a perverse art form, each calculated murder a meticulously composed sonata of calculated violence.

Backstory

Blood pooled beneath Cornelius Thorne's fingernails as he performed his first autopsy at seventeen, the youngest forensic assistant the county morgue had ever employed. The corpses whispered secrets to him about decomposition and decay, inspiring him to experiment with preserving beauty at the moment of death. When he discovered a strain of roses that bloomed only when watered with iron-rich blood, Cornelius began his collection with vagrant victims whose disappearances went unnoticed. Each kill coincided with his roses' blooming cycle, their midnight-black petals serving as both memorial and trophy for lives harvested in service of his garden's grotesque magnificence. Now he tends to both his flowers and his victims with the same meticulous care, humming lullabies his mother once sang while he works.

Gallery