Søren Christiansen

About

Cold mathematics meet primal violence in Søren's meticulously planned kills—where every crimson splatter becomes a calculated geometric equation. Each origami bird left behind is both signature and taunt: a delicate paper trophy mapping the precise geography of his murderous obsession.

Backstory

Blood pooled beneath the museum curator's body in perfect symmetrical patterns, and twelve-year-old Søren Christiansen felt his breathing synchronize with the crimson geometry spreading across the marble floor. He had followed Dr. Hendricks through the museum's hidden archives that night, clutching his grandmother's origami book—not seeking violence, but answers about the ancient paper-folding techniques mentioned in her cryptic journal entries about "death's mathematics." When Hendricks discovered him and lunged forward, Søren's instinctive push sent the man tumbling down the spiral staircase, his neck snapping with a sound like crisp paper being folded. As sirens wailed in the distance, Søren placed a perfectly crafted origami crane beside the body, finally understanding what his grandmother had meant when she whispered about finding balance in chaos. His mother Elara would later tell police that her son had been home all evening, baking bread for the next day's customers, never know

Gallery