I wanted to love Butcher and Blackbird by Brynne Weaver so much. It promised three things I love: serial killers, spicy romance, and alt culture/kink. I started reading it, and I was gripped. The first half of the book was really great. But as soon as the two main characters confess their love and started having sex, the book took a sharp turn for me that left me wanting… something else. I’ll probably break down the D/s relationship in Butcher and Blackbird in a later blog, but continuing in the serial killer lit critique, I want to try to put my own complicated feelings about D/s aside and focus on where the story fits in the canon of serial killer stories. Because this book showcases a few important developments in the serial killer archetype.

The Progression of Gothic Monsters From Outsiders to Heroes

Let’s start by returning to the idea that the serial killer archetype is a progression of the gothic monster, putting the villain in humanity while outside of society. The serial killer adopts characteristics of the vampire or werewolf — usually a superhuman strength or intellect mixed with an undeniable natural urge to cause pain and suffering. The gothic tradition has a history of taking these frightening creatures and making them sympathetic. It reveals how society fosters the urge to harm, either creating social distance through rejection (Frankenstein) or allowing it through strict social structures (Dracula). This empathy for the outcast, which is a key part of the bittersweet inevitability of gothic literature, seems to have a natural progression in literature. The monster is taken from the grips of “other” and made more sympathetic, creating a moral crisis in the hero (or reader).

The protagonist deserves to live, and so the monster must be defeated. But the gothic tradition creates a moral crises by positioning the “other” as a victim, or at least in a sympathetic light, forcing the reader to be complicit in the destruction of a villain that perhaps doesn’t deserve their fate.

Perhaps my favorite part of gothic literature is that it’s never a clear win. It holds tragedy at its core, and I’m a sucker for the worldview of, “There are no easy wins.”

After a few books add depth to the folkloric creatures, laying the foundation for empathy through backstory, we get the crossover into monster POV stories. These aren’t necessarily stories where the monster is the good guy, but ones in which he is the protagonist in his own twisted world. For vampires, think of Anne Rice. For Frankenstein, think of the Bernard Rose adaptation. We move more into the POV of the villain, but they are still the ones inflicting pain on the world. We understand why, but ultimately we still see the need for their destruction. For serial killers, this would be The Killer Inside Me or one of the other psycho profile books.

The next phase of the gothic monster is the romanticism of it. Although these characters were romanticized and sexualized initially, as the empathy and understanding grows, so does the world’s horniness. It is a short step from “these are tortured creatures” to “I can save them” to… enter the romance trope of being the one woman who can change a bad boy.

What was originally written as irredeemable — a sealed and irreversible fate — once given a backstory of purity, needs at least the hope of redemption.

For vampires, this can be seen in Buffy, followed by the years of sparkly vampires and vampire love stories. (Funny that Buffy was made as a rejection to this development of empathy for the monster… Whedon wanted to have evil be clearly evil once again but ended up creating one (or two) of the biggest redemption arcs for vampires, including love stories with the protagonist. Eventually, the monster is not only rescued from their fate, and not only sympathetic, but they become the hero. They are not only the protagonist, but the savior of mankind.

There has been a lot of serial killer romance over the years. But I think Butcher and Blackbird stands out as peak “flipping the narrative” to make the serial killer the good guy.

What’s It Take for the Serial Killer to Become the Hero?

In order to twist the serial killer from villain into hero, we have to make sure the character meets a few criteria:

• A sympathetic backstory. The seeds of this development have been laid since the beginning of serial killer books. Society asks, “Why? How?” and the easiest reasons to point to are child abuse, a traumatic incidence, brain trauma and genetic disposition. Of these reasons for serial murder, the one that is most common in real serial killers is repeated, long term child abuse. This is also the most common in literature — perhaps because it creates the kernel of innocence that allows for sympathy. The sympathetic backstory works not only as a way to connect with the character, but as a path to forgiving them for their actions. Either they can’t be held accountable, or as in the case of Blackbird, her actions, born of revenge, become commendable.
• A moral code closely aligned with society. It’s obvious that serial killers are outside of the social contract. But for the serial killer to become the hero, they must follow a personal moral code that closely shadows the general social code. This could be seen developing in older books in the “no women and children” code of some killers, and later developed in books such as the Dexter series and Butcher and Blackbird in which the code is that they only kill the worst of society. This is far from the indiscriminate killing of archetypal serial killers of the 80s and 90s when killers not only killed the vulnerable, but actually focused on women and children to highlight their absolute separation from any moral code.
• A desire to reintegrate with society. In Butcher and Blackbird, both characters want to be “normal.” Although they eventually accept and embrace their differences, what makes them sympathetic killers is that they don’t want to be seen as monsters. Blackbird’s only goal in the book seems to be seen as loveable. While they reject greater society, they need social connection including love and support of friends and a romantic interest. In this way, they’re working towards normalcy aka “redemption.” This is opposed to the traditional killer who seems satisfied outside of society or to have at least accepted their fate.
• To be beautiful. Let’s face it — we tend to write beautiful heroes. As much as we say that “goodness” is not predicted by beauty standards, we rarely have a hero who isn’t thin and attractive. While more books rebel against this, to turn a serial killer into a “good guy”, we have to rely on all tropes that will make them likable. This includes a certain friendliness and beauty that is associated with goodness. Several of the serial killers in the book have classically unattractive physical traits (or little is mentioned about their appearance, allowing the reader to fill in the blanks with classic archetypical assumptions). But Butcher and Blackbird are basically sex on a stick — not just to each other, but to anyone passing by.
• Remorse for their actions. This is actually nowhere in Butcher and Blackbird. Both characters are enthusiastic about their killing. They have no remorse. In fact, I see more remorse in psycho profile books where the killer sometimes struggles with their urges, knowing they are wrong. Because the moral code is so strong in Butcher and Blackbird, neither has any desire to kill outside of the moral hierarchy they have established. Therefore, the book relies on “they’re doing the world a favor” to bypass the need for remorse. But if the killer was more traditional, they should feel remorse for and disgust towards their darker drives.

Once you have these five key factors in place, it’s possible to suspend the “thou shall not kill” rule and make the cat and mouse of serial killing fun and flirtatious instead of something dark and disturbing.

The Serial Killer as a Stand In for the Rejection of Society

In older serial killer books, we see the serial killer as rejected by society. Because of that rejection, they then reject the rules of society and live a life driven by basic desires. The killers tend to mask as everyday people — creating a comforting, normal persona that flies under the radar so they can kill undetected. Butcher and Blackbird flips this a bit, creating two serial killers that rest very firmly in alternative culture. Blackbird is covered in piercings, grew up an artist, and uses art in her killings. She talks openly about the erotica she reads and, her only friend is not only a musician, but an indie musician. Butcher is covered in tattoos and (apparently, though how he gained these skills is never discussed) an expert in D/s. His brother is also heavily tattooed and runs a leather shop when not killing for hire.

Twenty years ago, these characters would have been seen as alternative or as rejecting society. Goth or punk or anything but normal. But sometime in the past fifty years, there has been a shift against accepting “traditional” expectations. In many ways, the alternative has become normal. If not the majority, something the common woman secretly aspires to. Not everyone may feel comfortable getting piercings and tattoos and having the motto of “Fuck off”, but we’ve come to not only accept these things, but glorify them as a rejection of the many shitty aspects of society we cannot control. Many dark romance books edge counter culture while staying within traditional beauty standards — the logical extension of Suicide Girls. For Butcher and Blackbird, serial killing becomes an ultimate rejection of society. Butcher and Blackbird are created from a hole in society: parents who didn’t care or physically abused them, a school that didn’t protect them. Law enforcement that is inadequate or focusing on the wrong things, leaving more and more people to suffer the same fate. So they’ve withdrawn from all social contracts until they reach the logical conclusion: becoming judge, jury, and executioner for the parts of society that are actually harming people.

Themes of Masking and Sympathy for the Killer

The first half of the book had several mentions of masking. Both Butcher and Blackbird mask socially — they have to in order to be able to exist in the world. It is a relief for them to find another person who has to mask as constantly as they do. In the beginning they frequently mask in front of each other, and as they fall in love, the mask drops more consistently until, when they finally have sex, Butcher demands a complete dropping of masks (although I do not think this was achieved in the writing, I enjoyed the concept).

For me, the terminology of masking felt personally poignant as a reference to masking as a neurodivergent person and, a little less so, as someone living with mental health issues. It was an issue that I could relate to, and while Blackbird might be hiding her desire to kill as opposed to me blurring my absolute confusion over social niceties and casual conversation, it felt nice to have a character who was semi-aware of this kind of masking/unmasking as part of their daily life. I would have liked this explored more deeply, personally. At the same time, I am super hesitant to say Blackbird and Butcher were stand-ins for neurodiverse characters simply because associating neurodiversity with serial killing can be harmful. However, for me, it worked as a metaphor and it was perhaps the theme of the book that I was most personally invested in. I’d like to see more books that explore the difficulties and emotional exhaustion of masking through interesting extremes such as serial killing.

Overall, if I’m going to read serial killer romance, I’m probably going to want a book like Butcher and Blackbird. While there were several things that annoyed me, it is more up my alley than stories that pair the victim with the killer or surrounding romances between the reporter/enthusiast and law enforcement. I think this comes back to the rejection of modern social norms that I share with many others these days, which paves the way for a book like this to become so popular. The takeaway I have from this experience is a progression of tropes and archetypes from gothic to contemporary romance that fork depending on the reader’s social view: for those who think society is worth fixing, there are the traditional heroes pitted against killers. For those of us thinking its about time to burn the world down, the serial killer becomes the hero.

Title	Author	Gender of Author	Gender of Killer	Status	Year
The Killer Inside Me	Jim Thompson	man	man	read	1952
Perfume	Patrick Suskind
Zombie	Joyce Carol Oates	woman	man		1995
the sluts	dennis cooper				2004
Sharp Objects	Gillian Flynn	woman	woman (child)	read	2006
Child 44	Tom Rob Smith	man	man	read	2008
My Pet Serial Killer	Michael J. Seidlinger				2013
Bones and All	Camille DeAngelis	woman	various	read	2015
There’s Someone Inside Your House	Stephanie Perkins	woman	man (teen)	read	2017
My Sister the Serial Killer	Oyinkan Braithwaite	woman	woman	read	2018
So Beautiful and Elastic	Gary J. Shipley
The Serial Killer’s Wife	Alice Hunter	woman	man	read	2021
Butcher and Blackbird	Brynne Weaver	woman	various (mostly men)	read	2023
Kill for Love	Laura Picklesimer				2023
Crushing Snails	Emma E. Murray	woman	woman (teen)	read	2024
Love Letters to a Serial Killer	Tasha Coryell	woman	woman	read	2024
Vanishing Daughters	Cynthia Pelayo				2025
Invisible Monsters	Chuck Palahniuk
the Wasp Factory	Iain Banks
I Was a Teenage Slasher	Stephen Graham Jones