It started when he was young.
He tried to kill himself. took his fathers new razor out of it's packet, locked himself in the bathroom and just went to town on his wrists.
The only problem was every time he cut himself, he healed.
With each slash, he felt a warmth burning within him, he felt stronger, angrier. With the deep cuts, he watched as his skin scorched around the wound and his flesh stitched itself back together, leaving no mark nor scar. Nothing.
Still on a mission to kill himself, he decided to take a leap out of the attic window headfirst onto the driveway below. His only thought as he plummeted towards his concrete grave were "Don't heal. Don't Heal."
As the crown of his head touched the pavement, his body combusted. Like a bomb, he exploded, detonated something inside of him which unleashed an untold fury onto the most unsuspecting neighbours pet dog and his on house.
It was sad when the fire fighters arrived to find Mr and Mrs ~~Welch~~ in their front room, scorched to black bone.
He fled of course. His skin healed after the explosion, like a snake shedding it's skin. Only his skin was volatile. His skin was deadly.