I enjoyed making everything suffer as a little kid
I massacred ants with stones, poured water into their nests, scooped up ants and fried them over a fire in a shovel
I catched ladybugs and impaled them on sewing needles but beetles were OK too!
There were tiny puny red buggies not even half a millimeter in length and I smeared them on sidewalk with my finger and made red smudges
I tried catching mice with buckets with bait but my dad forbid it because they spread disease and I never got one
I catched frogs with hands and tossed them back into the river as far or as hard as possible
I threw stones at pigeons and sparrows but none ever hit, I did very it rarely though
When I were 6 or so I moved from harmless insects like ants onto bigger insects that could harm me
Mainly bees, wasps, bumble bees and hornets
I catched them with Nutella glasses and kept them on the desk until they fatigue
I used to drown them, bury them in sand, pluck their wings and legs, stomp, crush, cover them in a viscous substances like sugar in water or in those that harmed them like alcohol or bleach where they would become energetic instantly but die in a minute
I once found a baby squirrel but I showed it to my dad instead and he gave it to local forest services.
I used to calm insects in the fridge because they would enter hibernation mode and I could attach things to their necks like binding them to something or to a weight that their tiny wings would not be able to carry and release them that way, or I could puncture their wings without an active retribution or resistance.

Now I like raiding, doxing, griefing and causing mental anguish. But I think I might be maturing since I feel no drive to do it anymore just because I can. I'm becoming a lazy cripple gramp.