I remember, as a little kid around 4 or 5 yo, I used to wish my action figures were live people. I'd pretend they were still toy-sized but be real living things. And I'd have vivid fantasies where I would have them run murder-gauntlets of traps. Like, they have to cross a ninja warrior style obstacle course, except everything was deadly.

I especially delighted in making things be hopeless. Even if someone made it to the end they would just be machine gunned in front of their friends and family.

Eventually I was just pretending whole groups of them were on a retracting platform over a big meat grinder type contraption. No game or puzzle for them. Just watching the front people fall into the grinder and knowing their time was coming too.

Then one day I simply decided that was enough of that and I had no taste for it. I wasn't abused and wasn't exposed to anything violent (not like what I was pretending). My home life was pretty great. I have no idea where those impulses came from