When asked why she did it, she simply replied, “I’m a loon.”
While the photo was noticeably low quality, I was able to recognize it instantly. It was the outside of my house.
“I didn’t even really know I was shot. I felt the blast and the noise and didn’t realize until liquid was gushing onto my chest.”
“This guy I used to be sort of friends with in high school decapitated his girlfriend, cut out her uterus, ate the uterus, and wrapped her head in a plastic bag and put it in the lagoon near my house.”
The rumors say that the fourth floor of the Hawthorne Hotel is alive with spirits. But they’re wrong – there were spirits in our creaky room at the end of the hall on the third floor. And they had a story to tell. I just regret that they knew I was listening.
Run, damn it. Run. I couldn’t. She smiled, still. “It’s not so bad.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. Last night my brother said so many terrible things when I went down onto the carpet in our room to look – so many awful, cruel, and hateful things – that I just gave up and crawled back in bed without even a glance or glare beneath the furniture.
Part one of an exclusive interview with leading forensic psychiatrist Dr. Michael Welner on what makes a mass murderer – and what can be done to prevent those at risk of becoming killers from realizing their homicidal fantasies.
Would you rather eat the dead flesh of your mother or your father?
“I pulled a chair out from under a boy I liked in the second grade. He cried.”