I walked out of my house mentally thinking, phone, wallet, keys. I always remind myself those three things every time I leave. I once locked myself out of the house, so I always make sure to remember everything. I was just going to work. It was a calm, quiet morning. It was just a normal Monday morning. The interstate was completely empty. There was a car or two, but other than that it was open. The sun was beginning to rise up over the mountains. The blend of orange, pink, and white on the horizon was mesmerizing. I remember saying to myself this is going to be a beautiful day. I had no reason not to think that.
I parked in my usual spot right next to the cart return. There were not very many cars. It was still kind of dark. The sun was not fully up yet. I grabbed my black jacket from my passenger seat and put it on. I turned the ac off and turned the radio down before shutting the car off. I opened my door and hit the lock button just as I do every day. When I got out of the car, I fixed my hat. I tucked my hair under my hat while I started walking toward the front door. I got this sudden feeling like I was being watched. I stopped and started to reach for my box cutter in my right jacket pocket and I began to look around, that is when he put a cloth over my nose and mouth. He grabbed me from behind and started to drag me backwards. I tried to fight, and I tried to scream. That is all I recollect.
When I awoke, I was in a dark room on a metal chair. My hands and legs were duct taped to the chair. There was a sky light directly above my head. That was the only light shining in. The sun was directly overhead so it was the middle of the day by then. I wondered how long I was out for.
I tried to struggle and break free, but the tape would not budge. The room was not excessively big. It looked like a shed of some sort. There was a long work bench straight across from me with a bunch of tools thrown about all over it. To my right was some shelves on the wall with gardening tools. To my left was a bunch of old dirty buckets. Straight ahead on the floor was an old rusted drain. I had a cloth in my mouth. It was so hard to breathe, it was like the air was heavy. I tried to scream, but only a mumble came out.
I heard a small creak in the silence. I looked around to see where it was coming from. Then the door flung open behind me. The room was flooded with light. It was so bright, I had to close my eyes. A tall figure walks in. He had a ski mask on over his face. The only thing I could see of him were his eyes. They were such a bright blue and filled with a dark sadness. He slammed a bucket down on the floor and a liquid splashed out. It was too dark to see what color it was, but it reeked of bleach. The whole room smelled like bleach. He went straight to the work bench, did not even glance at me or even in my direction really.
I was too scared to move or even make a noise. He fumbled around the work bench making all kinds of noises. I kept thinking of ways to escape, but all I could think of was all the horrible things he could do to me. I knew even if I screamed no one would hear me. My screams are muffled by the cloth. I remember him walking over to me and telling me he was sorry and that he had no choice. That is when he reached for the shelf with gardening tools. He picked up a gardening shear.
He grabbed my left hand and bent all of my fingers down one by one. The only finger he left up was my pinky. I started to whimper and beg, but I doubt he understood me due to the cloth in my mouth. He placed my finger in the shears and in one quick strike, my pinky was gone, and my hand filled with pain and blood soaked the floor under my hand. Tears welled up in my eyes and I sobbed. I pleaded with him to stop, but only mumbles came out. He then took all of my fingers one by one. My fingers made a snapping sound as the shears went through my flesh and through my bone. The pain was excruciating. All I could do was cry.
He took the time to thoroughly clean where my fingers once were connected to my hand. He wrapped my stub in a bandage. He bent down and picked up my fingers that laid on the cold hard ground in a puddle of my blood. He placed my fingers in a small black box. I remember him smelling like fresh cut wood when he bent down in front of me.
He threw the bucket that smelled like bleach on the puddle of blood. He started to scrub it and took the hose that I did not see before and rinsed it into the middle of the floor where a drain was. I watched him through my tears, meticulously cleaning my blood stain from the floor. After he cleaned up his mess, he left. He took the small black box with him. What the fuck did this monster want with my fingers? What psychopath just takes a person’s fingers and lets them live?
I remember that after he left, I tried like hell to get undone from the chair. It was pointless. I could not break the tape; I was too weak, and my hand hurt something awful. I remember screaming out of frustration and anger. I wanted to get free and get back at this sick bastard for hurting me. I told myself right then and there that I was going to get free and kill this son of a bitch.
He came back awhile later. He brought a tray in with food and a cup on it. I must admit, it smelled appetizing. He sat the tray down on the bench. He put his fore finger up to his lips and shushed me as he took the cloth out of my mouth. I started screaming for help. He back handed me hard across my right cheek. I stopped and cooperated. He gave me a sip out of the cup. It was nice cold water. Afterwards, he gave me small bites of food from the tray. It was a bowl of mixed fruit; Watermelon, strawberries, bananas, and grapes. A plate of fried chicken strips, and some green beans. He fed me and in between gave me sips of the ice water. After I finished eating, he wiped my face and put the cloth back in my mouth. He put the cup back on the tray and walked out.
I did not realize I was so hungry and thirsty until he brought the food and water to me. It was like he wanted me to stay alive. I thought this was a good thing. What I did not realize was, he is a sick bastard that needed put down.
He did not come back until the morning. The sun rose up over the sky light and it lit the room up for me to see. The room still stunk of bleach from last night. My hand still hurt tremendously. I frantically looked around to see what I could do to help myself. I saw a bat in the far corner. I just needed to get out of that fucking chair. I heard a small creak, so I knew he was coming back. He flung the door open, which then slammed into the wall making me jump. He brought another tray of food with him.
This time he brought me more fruit and a bowl of oatmeal. The oatmeal had lots of sugar in it. The strange thing was this is the exact way I would make it every morning before my run. After he cleaned up breakfast, he left. When he came back, he brought me a cup of water. Only this time, the water made me start to see the room moving and there was two of him. I started to yell, but it was too late. The room went dark. I knew right away he drugged me.
When I awoke, I was in a new room. This room was much bigger. It was nothing but concrete, the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. There was a sink and a toilet to my left. To my right was a table with only a book on it. I could not see the title right away. The room was still a bit blurry. I was laying on a soft bed, it was more like a cot than a bed. He even gave me a pillow, straight past the foot of my bed was the door. It had a small window in it. In between the bed and the door was a chair and a rusted drain a couple of feet in front of it. This room smelled like bleach already, so I know I am not this sickos first victim.
I stood up and instantly the room started to spin. I braced myself with my right hand against the bed. Once I regained my balance, I walked over to the door. I tried to look out the window, but all I could see was a dark hallway to the left and nothing to the right.
I heard something off in the distance. It sounded like a door slamming shut. I hurried back and laid on the bed how I was when I awoke. I heard him unlock the door. He threw the door open and it slammed into the wall. He sure does like dramatic entrances. This time he did not mask who he was.
He was so handsome. He did not look threatening at all. I remember seeing his blonde hair and blue eyes before. He was at work; He was across the street from my house walking his dog almost every morning when I left for work. I even said good morning to him! I even talked to him at work a few times. He was always so polite and always used his manners.
He had another bucket of bleach with him and a bag. The room filled with the scent of bleach. He picked me up and I tried to fight, but he overpowered me easily. He threw me into the chair. The chair had straps already on it that I did not notice before. He strapped my arms and legs down to the chair. I screamed and cursed at him to let me go or I was going to kill him. He laughed. I struggled and fought against the chair.
Once again apologized. He said, “I’m sorry to have to do this…again.” He had had such a smirk on his face when he said again. It was like this was amusing to him. I started to scream, but it was useless. He knew that no one was going to be able to hear me. He reached into his bag and brought out a saw and a large black box. All I remember next is my blood spraying and hearing my screams. The room started to fade. My arm went numb and the room went dark.
When I awoke my whole left arm was gone. He had cleaned the wound and wrapped it in a bandage just as he did my hand before. I laid in bed and sobbed. This man was taking me apart piece by piece. This was the worst torture you could do to a person. He was literally breaking me apart. What kind of human being could do this to another person?
I heard a loud bang in the distance and within a minute the door flung open. All he said was lunch. Then he left. It was almost like a dream at first, then I smelled mac and cheese and fish sticks. I sat up and looked around. That is when I seen through my tear-soaked eyes, a tray on the table. This time instead of water, he brought me raspberry tea, my favorite. It is weird he knows what my favorite foods and drinks are. When I finished eating, I grabbed the book from beside the tray. When I saw the title The Mulberry Tree, I knew the favorite food thing was not just a coincidence. That book is not popular one at all and it was my favorite book.
I started thinking back about the past week before I was taken. I always seen this dark blue van across the street from my house and it was even in the parking lot at work the day I was taken. It was just in the next row over from my car. How could I not have noticed this before?
I carried the book over with me to the bed. I sat down and moved the pillow up against the wall so I could sit and recline back comfortably against the wall and read. It is not like I could do anything else, right?
I guess I fell asleep reading because I awoke to a slamming door. There was a new tray of food and the one from lunch was gone. I went over to eat. It smelled appetizing. There was meatloaf with a red sauce, potatoes, and corn. The bastard even brought me a slice of apple pie. I can say for a pyscho, he could really cook. After I ate, I walked around the room. The more I walked around, the more I noticed. The concrete had water marks over by the table and a lot by the makeshift bathroom. The ceiling was not extremely high, it may have been 7 feet high. The only difference in the floor than the ceilings and walls was the rusted drain in the middle of the room. The whole room reeked of bleach.
I laid back in bed. My shoulder nub was really starting to hurt. This room had no windows, the only light was one bulb hanging down from a small chain in the middle of the room and a light attached to the wall above the toilet. They were not very bright. I wanted my own bed. I wanted to go home. I missed my husband. I wondered if he was looking for me. I missed my life. I missed being free.
Before I knew it, the man had brought me breakfast. All he said when he came in was “Eat.” One measly fucking word. I asked if I could call my husband to tell him goodbye. I pleaded to be let free. He ignored every word I said. It was as though he did not even hear me. He laughed and slammed the door shut behind him.
After I finished eating, I stretched and walked back to my bed. I read the book some more. I had just finished chapter 7 when the man came back. He came in with a bucket and his bag. Bleach filled my lungs. I started to cough. I knew what was coming. He dragged me kicking and screaming from the bed to the chair. I gave it my all, but he still managed to get me strapped in the damn chair. This is not fair. He said, “I am deeply sorry for what I am about to do.” He had that same smirk on his face. I spit in his face and he back handed me again. He said, “You bitch.” He grabbed a saw from his bag and a giant black box. He walked toward me and turned the saw on. The buzzing from the saw filled the room, it seemed to echo off the walls and magnify, I begged and pleaded for him to just kill me and get it over with.
I remember the pain was horrific and god there was so much blood everywhere. The blood just sprayed as the saw came into contact with my flesh. I remember begging to just die. I remember the room starting to fade. He stopped the saw and gave me a shot of something, the pain started to dissipate. I stayed awake long enough for him to finish sawing my leg off. When the saw hit my bone, I remember his arm jerking. I was crying hysterically. That is the last thing I remember.
When I woke up, the bandage on my arm was changed and my leg was bandaged. I looked around the room and the bloodstains were gone. There was a tray of food on the table. I could not even push myself to get out of the bed to even eat. I just remember lying in bed weeping. Where my leg was hurt like hell. I remember reaching down and touching it. The room kept going in and out. It was like a bad dream and I was going to wake up and everything would be back to normal. The torture would be over. I remember just wanting to die. I wanted it to just be over with.
I forced myself out of the bed and I grabbed the sheet off the bed. I hobbled over to the light dangling from the ceiling. It was directly above the chair. I remember it took me awhile, but I managed to get up in the chair. I had the sheet in my mouth. I made a loop in the sheet and knotted it the best I could do with only one arm. I tied the other end on the dangling light. I put the sheet around my neck, and I wobbled off the chair. I remember gagging and trying to gasp for air. After what seemed like eternity, the room finally went dark. I finally felt at peace.
I remember seeing my lifeless body just hanging there. I tried to reach out to my face, but my hand went right through my body. I got chills when I realized I was dead. I looked down and my arm and leg were back. I could move freely again. I was free at last.
I walked right through the door. Now all I had to do was find the exit to this Hell. I went down the hall and that is when I heard a door slam. The man I thought. He was walking towards me. He had his bag and a bucket. I followed him back to my room. When he unlocked my door and threw it open, he instantly saw me hanging. He dropped the bucket and bleach spilled everywhere. He grabbed my lifeless body and got the sheet from around my neck. He gave me CPR and tried to revive me, but I was too far gone.
He gave up after a few minutes. He yelled out of frustration. I laughed. I won. He stormed out of the room and I followed him. I followed him down the hall and made a couple of turns. After the 3rd corner, there was a door. When he opened the door, sunlight poured in. It was so bright. There was a warm breeze that blew by my face. I could hear the birds chirping and the leaving rustling. We were in the middle of the woods. I could not see any houses or buildings. I could not hear traffic. I had no idea where I was. The man took off walking straight out of the door and into the woods. I walked around for what seemed like hours just trying to find where I was. I should have followed the man. I do not know why I did not.
I started to hear something in the distance, I ran toward the noise. It was police sirens. I ran as fast as I could toward them. It brought me right back to the door that I came out of. The man left the door open. He was nowhere to be seen. He just vanished. The police were armed, and they stormed the door. I followed them inside.
They went every direction in the hallways. They meticulously searched every nook and cranny of the maze. They came to a dead end and on the right was my door, still open. They stormed inside and they found my body. I thought at least my husband will know what happened to me and that I did not just leave. He would know that I tried to get back to him.
I stuck around to watch them categorized the scene and to try and figure out where the man went. They took several pictures of the whole room, from different angles. They took pictures of my body just lying on the floor. A short while later, the coroner came in. He took my liver temperature and determined I was only dead for 7 hours. He determined that I died of asphyxia. I had dark bruises on my neck. My eyes were still open. My lips were parted just ever so slightly.
They were so close to saving me. God only knows what that man was going to do next. He would have had 7 more hours to torture me or to kill me. My husband could not have seen me after what that man did. My body was mutilated, it was ripped apart by that monster. I am glad I ended it all. I do not know what he was going to take next when he came back. Maybe the police would have showed up before he took something. I will never know now. All I know is I have to stop that monster from getting someone else.
I followed the cops out of the building. When we reached outside the door, I started walking in the direction the man did. It took forever to walk out of the woods. It must have been miles that I walked. In every direction, it all looked the same. He must have known this area really well not to have gotten lost. I finally came upon a perfect parking spot on the edge of the woods. You can tell the same car parked here a lot. The tracks were all the same. I looked around. I was in the middle of a small town. There were small businesses all around and streets full of houses. I looked down at the ground. The mud dragged out on the pavement always in the same direction.
I followed in that same direction. I wandered down the road. The houses were lot after lot on this street. They ranged from color to color. The cars and trucks were different in each driveway. I heard a door slam out of anger. I turned around, there was a man standing beside his big, red truck. I could not see his face, but I could see he was blonde. I started toward him. He was walking angrily back toward his front door. I ran after him. I tried yelling, but he was not going to hear me. I was dead.
I followed him inside his house. His wife was cooking in the kitchen and his daughter was in the living room watching cartoons. He went straight up the stairs to the left of the living room. At the top of the steps, I finally caught up to him. I put my hand on his shoulder, but it just went right through him. He stopped. He turned to look behind him. I seen his face. It was him. He was the monster that killed me.
I froze in fear. He was looking right at me. We were face to face. He just turned back around, shrugged and walked straight down the hall into the bathroom. I heard the water turn on. I explored the upstairs for a bit. The first door on the left was obviously the daughter’s room. It was decorated in princess’, but her toys were trucks and cars. There were truly little dolls or babies. The door straight across was the parent’s bedroom. I explored their room for a few minutes. There were books and magazines of fashion and vacation spots on the wife’s bedside table. There were just murder mystery books on the other. The room on the end to the left was the bathroom and across the hall was an extra bedroom it looked like. The extra bedroom was neatly put together. The whole room was symmetrical. In the closet on the top shelf was a small black box. I looked inside. There were several diamond rings, at least 30 to 40. This man has killed this many women and has gotten away with it. This just pissed me off more. I had to stop this monster from doing it again.
I went back into the daughter’s room. I found two toy cars. You figured a girl would have dolls. I took a car and put it to the top of the stairs. I heard the water turn off. I hurried into the bathroom with another car. I moved his towel from beside the shower to the floor where he would step out. I put the car under the towel. He opened the curtain to reach for his towel. He looked out and it was not there. He opened the curtain and the room filled with steam. He stepped out and slipped on the towel and car. He fell and hit his head on the sink really hard. He got a small gash on the left side of his head.
He got up and found the car. He yelled at his daughter Lisa for leaving the car. He wrapped the towel around him and carried the car out with him. He headed down the hall for the stairs. He had blood on the side of his head and face. He was complaining about the car and his daughter was telling him she did not do it. He made it to the top of the steps and his foot landed right on top on the second car. He slid forward unto the steps. He put his arms out to catch himself, but it did not work. He tumbled down the whole flight of stairs. He went head over heels. He hit really hard at the bottom. His body went limp. Lisa started screaming for her mother. She stood staring at her father’s body. Her mother came running, but it was too late. He snapped his neck on the fall down. That monster is not going to hurt anyone else. I did what I promised him I would do. I killed him.
Police finally figured out who the murderer was by using a psychological profile. There was also DNA on Emily’s lips from where he tried CPR after she hung herself to escape her horrible fate that he had in store for her.
Adam was abused by his mother, both mentally and physically during his adolescent years. She would smack his fingers with a ruler every time he did something wrong. She would grab his arms so tight when she yelled, and she would shake him violently while she screamed at him. One time she broke his left leg when she kicked him out of anger. He chose brunettes with blue eyes as a replacement of his mother. With each person he tortured, he was torturing his mother.
He began the killing after his mother died 5 years ago. In those 5 years, he had tortured and killed at least 43 women before he fell down his stairs at home and died.
He stalked these women for weeks before he would take them. He would torture them for a month before finally sawing off their heads while they were still alive. He removed their body parts one by one until all that was left were their head and torso. Then he would cut them as they screamed. He would burn them. He mutilated their bodies until they were on the verge of death.
That is when he decided that was enough. He was done toying with them. He would take them and strap them down. He would make them beg for death. In his mind they wanted to die, they were begging him for death. He would take his saw and start cutting into their necks. The blood would spray up all over his face and the ceiling and the walls. He would hear their screams for the last time.
He broke down his victims just as his mother broke him down. He would torment them. He would never sexually abuse them. He gets off on them begging for mercy, the terror in their eyes.
He was the most prolific serial killer in the area. When we searched his home, we found his trophies from each victim. We found their rings hidden in his closet. There were 67 rings. We only found the mutilated bodies of 43 women. That is 24 women that will probably never be found. Their families will never be able to put them to rest. Their souls will just wonder Earth for eternity.