The Cannibal

Whether killers perform their heinous acts by the compulsions of their diseased minds, or if they are forced into them by external pressures, has long been a matter of debate. But for one killer, nature and nurture are inextricably linked.
Leatherface kills not from a desire to exert his will over others, to satisfy carnal urges, or even to quiet the voices in his head. He kills because he is scared. Scared that others will hurt him; scared that his family will be displeased with him, scared that their shared willingness to eat human flesh will be discovered.
He does as he is told, his family loves him and that is all that matters. Outsiders are a threat, and threats need to be dealt with.
Like those kids that came into the house, uninvited. Walked in like they owned the place. Looked around the house, trying to find out his family’s secrets, no doubt. But Leatherface deals with them, protects his family, just as he’s been taught.
He is not just protector, he has many roles, and each role has its own face. He serves dinner, cares for the family, dresses well when they eat. His Grandpa and Ma used to care for them all, but Grandpa he is old now and she has been still for a while, so Leatherface and his brothers had to take over. Family is everything to him. Family is security and safety.
But, even though he did his best, one of the kids got away. He tried to stop her, chasing after her as fast as he could, but she had help: another outsider, driving a truck. The evil trucker killed his brother, ran him over like he was a possum. In a fury, Leatherface leapt at him, the saw ready to avenge his family, but the trucker was too quick. He knocked Leatherface aside and turned his own saw against him.
As he watched the outsiders driving away, the rage, grief and pain combined with the worry about what would happen to his family now. They would surely return with the police, and the police would take his brothers, his Grandpa. Without them, what would he do? Without their commands, he would wither and die.