My name is not important as isn’t yours. I ask you don’t use this as a way to try and analyze me, that’s not what this if for. I’ve recently become a wanted man for the death of Craig Dale, but it’s far from the first person that I’ve killed. The first was when I was fifteen, I think. It was a girl who lived next door to me at the time, I don’t recall her name or where I was living at the time but that’s a story for another day. The reason I write this is so if I am found by the police and all the stories about me are spreading around maybe this will help dispel some of those rumors.
I feel my life would be best described without words. That won’t make sense to most people, I know that, but people can’t understand me thought the useless words that our species has created. People will read this, I know they will, and think they can understand me but they can’t. People will think I’m crazy, that I’m a mad man, sick, perverted this and that, but I’m not. I’m not any of those things and though no one can truly understand what I am I hope they can understand what I’m not.
I will say yes, I am by most of your standards an evil man, but you don’t know evil the way I know it. Though I am not going to detail now the things I have done, those stories can be told another day, I’d like to just go over my main points in life in case I am caught in the coming days.
I was born in the fall. I don’t recall the day or the year but I remember the leaves falling during a birthday. I think I had a normal childhood. It’s hard to say for sure because I don’t know how others are raised nor do I care to be honest. Everyone is the same when you look from the outside. My memories of childhood are scarce, but what I do remember I remember quite clearly.
I Ran away from home when I was ten I think. That’s around the time I have more memories from. Only when I escaped from my normal life was I able to truly see what my brain was capable of. You might think there’s no way I was ten when I took off, think I couldn’t survive homeless at that age. At that age you are hardly ever truly homeless If you know what you’re doing I reckon it’s probably easier to be a child when you homeless. People are much kinder to a child in need than a man. It’s funny when you think about it. I’d think you’d try to help the man just as much but I guess I can’t really understand your average person as they can’t understand me. I never had to be a homeless man, as I am by most standards a wealthy man. The way I acquired my wealth is not important now.
When I was a boy and had run off It’s true I never was homeless for that long. People do anything for a child. I’ve seen the kindest acts a man had ever seen, so it may seem odd to end up the way I did. Being alone at that age lets your brain do things to you. Sometimes for the worse, but I feel it’s treated me quite nicely. I’m sure many will say it turned me into a monster. The truth is it allowed me to see through the nonsense that our species and society have become. If you want the short story I guess that’s what this is all about. Life as you know it has run out of purpose. I’m not saying that why I’ve done the things I’ve done but when you see the things I’ve seen in the ways I have its more like “why not.”
What many find tricky about killing folks isn’t what the police will do to them, though that is a big part of it. It’s more of the guilt, how it affects the families of both the killer and the one being killed and their friends and their towns and so on and so forth. But when you’d kill them just as quick as the next you don’t really care who you affect. When you can truly stand on the outside you’re completely disconnected.
Now I’m sure you’re sitting there thinking I’m crazy. That’s fine. People have always assumed I’m crazy. I barely have to speak if speak at all, and people assume. He way I speak, the way I look, people just assume. My speech is slow, my voice is deep like I’m an old smoker, but I am neither old nor a smoker, but people think I’m crazy for it thought it’s just the way I was born. But people do what they do. I don’t dress nice by your standards. I wear one pair of jeans and one t shirt. People think that’s strange and assume I’m homeless or crazy but I think they’re crazy for spending the money people do on the rags that they wear. Trying to look nice to the other person trying to look nice. If they all just spent a buck on their clothes they’d all still look the same in comparison to the rest and they could use their money for important things. But that’s all another thing that I don’t care to understand.
People also assume I’m crazy because I talk to myself. People think I’m schizophrenic or what have you, but that’s not true. I understand how my brain works. I’m quite aware I have voices in my head but I know that they’re my voices. I don’t think I have other folks in my brain. What you all don’t understand is I have more than one mind. I’ve seen people with one mind talk to themselves and I think one has more of a right to do so if they have more than one mind.
Another reason some assume I’m crazy is by deformed arm, and my slight tremor, Which is really an awful thing to be judged like that for. The story of my arm is a little humorous in ironic if you think about it. I saved someone’s life over two years before the first I killed. A small girl, she was younger than I was, maybe 7 I can’t say for sure. She walked in the road not paying attention and was almost hit by a bus. I ran in the way and saved her but my arm was struck by the buss and it shattered it. I couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen. I ran off from the accident and stayed low for a while trying to heal my arm back to normal. Now it sits half clenched and I can barely move it. That’s what acts of kindness get you in this world. And acts of another nature have helped me a great deal.
From the time I killed my first man until the time I killed my parents I probably did at least another forty folks, that would have been probably four or five years. But those stories also are not for today. I have to admit after that I couldn’t even guess how many there’s been. You lose track when it’s not a big deal. When it’s part of a routine, it all fades together. I can say it’s much more than forty every four or five years though.
Besides just trying to understand what I am and who I am people also try to guess why I’m like this. Some assume it’s from my childhood, some mental illness, religion, perversion or whatever but all it is that I’m more evolved than others. I see things the way they truly are not the way everyone wants you to see it.
I want to clear some of these reasons before it’s too late, I don’t want folks just labeling me things when they don’t know. I want to say it’s not my childhood or my parents as many will say. My parents would have been good people to you though I was not a fan of them. They raised me the ways most probably do, I’m just to advanced for the society they raised me for. They raised me catholic but again that’s not why I’ve done the things I be done. I stopped following religion years ago but I was a killer both while being religious and not. It’s not because I stopped believing in god. I’m quite aware God and Satan are there. I’ve spoke to both of them. As far as Jesus and Noah and all that, I can’t say for sure but god is there. He’s just not who he leads on to be, which is why I no longer praise him. Satan is exactly the way you think of him, but he is weak and also not worth the time to think about or worship.
You can also not blame perversion for my crimes. People will assume that I molested or raped the people I killed. This isn’t true. I’ve heard people say that about me while not knowing I’m sitting next to them. A little girl went missing a few years back, I heard people say that whoever did it is sick and probably raped the girl, but that’s not how it is. Rape is for the weak and sick. To be honest with you I don’t have the ability to rape someone as my reproductive organs were destroyed many years ago. The story behind that is a long story and not important at this time. But I’ll say I have no use for a woman in that way.
What most will blame it on is that I’m sick or a mad man, that it’s all mental issues. Well yes it is a mental condition, because I’m capable of things that others are not. But I am not sick nor am I a mad man. Besides injuries I have never been sick a day of my life. And I’m not an angry or mad man. I don’t get angry. Nothing that this life brings is worth getting angry about. I’m quite a peaceful man as far as my emotions go. I’m a very stable individual
Some people will assume, like many people do, that I showed signs of becoming a serial killer when I was a child, torturing and killing animals and what not. I have to admit that is not at all true. I never killed an animal until after I killed a human. Not even with my car, besides insects of course. I feel poorly about killing animals. Animals are much more honest and decent creatures than humans. An animal will do anything for itself, Humans expect others to help. Animals will protect their young, some humans do as well but not the same way. Humans have weakness that no animals will ever have. If an animal breaks a leg it will continue to try and live its life and survive, a human will just sit and expect others care for them. People smoke, drink, cuss, and gamble, addictions only animals do. Not because they’re more advanced, they just aren’t able to live their lives as it is without an escape. An animal does not need an escape from life and it has nothing. Humans are disgusting.
The only animals I kill are to help me. That girl I mentioned earlier, I killed her dog. I saw her playing outside one day with the dog. She was probably eight or nine if I had to guess, don’t remember where she lived though. I snuck over and killed the dog. Shortly after she was at the playground next door, her parents must not have known she was there, or perhaps didn’t care. I pulled up to her and opened the door and showed her the dog. I said I accidently hit the dog with my car and asked her if she knew who it belonged to. She ran over to hug the dog and I pulled her in and drove off. I killed her right there in the car. I struck her head against the window a few times. It didn’t take much. What I did with her body and the bodies of others that I killed I don’t wish to share.
People will think my heroes are folks like Manson, Dahmer, that sort of thing but they’d be wrong. The famous killers of the world are disgusting. They’re fools, wasteful creatures and I am not in the category of them. I’m alone in this place, which is why I can’t be understood. I’m not like Manson, Jack the Ripper or even Hitler, I suppose. Their murders were pointless and only done to help themselves in their underdeveloped brains. People don’t understand what it takes to kill for an extended period of time. Most killers that do so for a long time have all been caught or just stopped. I have been killing folks for probably twenty five years or so and I have not been caught nor will I stop. Though I am a wanted man, I don’t expect anything to happen to me. The justice system is faulted and foolish and they will lose track of me in a week, but if I’m wrong and I am caught their prisons will not be able to hold me.
The reason people get caught is they’re scared or to imperfect and make mistakes. I have the thinking power of many men and the law does not frighten me. The only thing that frightens me is death, and not for the reason others are. It’s the unknown of what’s after that’s get most people, that and leaving their possessions behind. I’m not afraid of the afterlife I know what’s there and don’t want to be part of it. Either side. And I don’t need to worry about leaving anything behind of any importance. If I die, I go to God or to Satan, I will have nothing to do, here I am balancing out the world and enjoying myself while I’m at it. In the kingdom of God, the insecure weakling, or Satan, the selfish brat, I will only be held back. I can create more than either of them combined ever could. Earth, life, evil, disease, all that is nothing compared to what I am capable of. The lives I have taken are nothing compared to what is coming. I have escaped the hands of god, death, the law and society and even if I am caught by one of them they will not be able to keep a hold of my minds.
For fear if staying in one place for too long I have to end here, but will explain more of my life in the future.
