I, MONSTER-Tom Philbin

police interviews. Veteran true crime and crime fiction writer Tom Philbin has compiled the testimony of twenty infamous serial killers nineteen men and one woman. For fans of crime stories who look for realism, this book is like no other. The descriptions couldn't be more realistic, since in effect, This book is written by the serial killers themselves. Their words range from the bizarre and weirdly fascinating to the revolting

and horrific. In each case, Philbin provides a background profile to give readers a sense of the context from which these monsters emerged. Though they come from different backgrounds, nationalities, and generations, their words do reveal certain common elements. Not one invinces any sense of compassion or sensitivity in regard to their victims. They appear to be unable to control the impulses that lead them to kill, and in many cases they derive a perverse sexual satisfaction from their deeds.

Taking true crime reading to a new level of immediacy, this disturbing book offers a glimpse into the worst side of human nature. The book that we're profiling receiving is I Monster serial Killers in their own chilling words by Tom Philbin and narrated by yours. Truly, this programmer has to have a special warning because, as described in the introduction, this is the worst of the worst, and when we talk about that they derive a perverse sexual satisfaction from

their deeds. That's also all mixed up with murder and sex, So they're inseparable and disgusting in nature throughout. So if your week of the stomach or faint of the heart, maybe take a rain check on this program, because I'm basically this book is like it's described in the introduction. It is a brief synopsis or description or background, a

background of the killer themselves. And then what is really highlighted and showcased or here in this book published is the words, the chilling words, the shocking words that the revolting, disgusting words of these famous and infamous serial killers. We won't cover all of them. And I've got to say this book is really very very very interesting. But the only drawback I got to say, and it's unfortunate that Wesley Allan Dodd has his diaries quite a bit of

the diaries published in this book in his own handwriting. However, it's almost indecipherable even with so Unfortunately, one of the worst and one of the most interesting, and one of them less famous or less infamous killers is Wesley Allen Dodd. And I strained and strained with my little Walmart glasses and I could barely read it. So there's no way I'm going to be able to narrate it, so I don't say I say that he does a great job

throughout providing it's very, very readable. Unfortunately, that's the only little drawback, and I wanted to read something from Wesley Allen Dodd, but like I say, it's really kind of difficult to read. But an amazing Tom Philben has introduced me to Wesley Allen Dodd in terms of a killer that I was not as aware of, and now I am a little more interested, especially after the straining and

reading this in his fine book, I'm Monster. So I'm going to read a little bit of the introduction, not the entire introduction, because I think that would be appropriate for me narrating and basically promoting this book on behalf of from Atheists Publishing. I got their permission and I said, I contacted Tom Philbin, but for whatever reason, he's not

interested to come on the program. But since I had was very interested in the book, I read it from cover to cover a couple of times, and I asked Frometheus if I could do this program and gave me their blessings. So here we are, So without any further ado, I'm going to read a little bit of the introduction and we'll get into what I have talked about in

terms of the worst of the worst. This book will not be everyone's cup of tea, but for the true crime fans who like to take their murder stories straight, it would be hard to think of anything more appealing because it is written by the serial killers themselves, direct quotations from their letters, confessions, trial transcripts, and the like. While a good hunk of the material can be fairly characterized as a rough ride, not all of it is.

For example, one thing of a particular interest was the questionnaire filled out by John Wayne Gacy, the serial killer who murdered more than thirty young boys in a suburb outside Chicago. His answers to it are utterly oblivious to his homicidal persona, But the words of some killers are horrific,

straight from hell. For example, what could be more horrific than Edmund Kemper describing in his confession to cops how he freendedly stabbed a six year old girl to death one lovely day in California, experienced a sexual exultation as he did. Or Wesley Allen Dodd and the unspeakable things he did to a four year old victim or Dennis Rader, who wiped out one by one an entire family, described the experience with all the interest he might have had

in blowing his nose. Each of the chapters start with a background on the particular killers, so the reader will be able to put the killer's utterances and deeds into context. Reason, the more you understand the context, the more you'll enjoy. If that is the right word the book, unless otherwise noted, The killer quotes come from official sources, such as court transcripts, pardon me, in interviews with police and district attorneys. The advantage of using this kind of material that it is

more likely to be truthful. When cops and other official investigators probe for the truth, they usually get it. And though I consider myself a card carrying ghoul with the requisite cast iron stomach, when it comes to the subject, I had some difficulty making it through some of the material. The reason, I think is that while this book is about serial killers, it is also about their victims. Never

before have I grasped what victims go through. Then, when researching this book, more than once I had to stop reading for a while, and more than once my sense of liberalness, my constant quest to understand why went away, And all I wanted to do was use my bare hands to kill these killers. A great offshoot for this book, we think, is that it will provide insight into the mind and soul of the serial killer as never before.

As you get to see how these people react with their victims, you start to understand that none of them has a conscience, none of them cares at all for their victims. You understand that when they kill, it is a sexual experience. Most will have an erection or experience orgasm as their victims die, and most paramount, and for most, if not all, you'll come to realize that power and

control of their victims is paramount. And you'll come to understand that they relive the death of their victims by handling parts of their victims or pieces of their property. And you come to understand that one body isn't enough

for serial killers. They will never stop killing until someone stops them of all the main monsters of the twentieth and twenty first centuries will be heard from people like Cannibal and child killer Albert fish Green, River killer Gary Ridgeway, who killed so many women he couldn't remember how many. Ted Mundy, who killed untold numbers of women estimates vary,

including two in one day. Dennis Raider, the BTK bind torture killed murderer from Topeka, Kansas, who in court testimony described his stomach churning escapades with a nonchalance as suggested above bordering on boredom. And David Parker Ray, who with a coven of diseased cohorts in New Mexico tortured kidnapped teenagers and young women, raping them thirty to forty two times before getting down to serious torture. And two nineteenth century killers, Jack the Ripper and H. H. Holmes are quoted.

In a few instances when the material is particularly nasty, we have provided cautionary notes. One of the most famous serial killers of all time, but now probably in the last ten twenty years, not so much, but a very interesting serial killer, David Berkowitz. David Berkowitz who grew up to become the infamous serial killer, son of Sam Proud, of the streets of New York City, armed with a forty four caliber Bulldog Revolver, shooting people at random, mostly

young women. He was born to two people who were married but not to each other. They gave their bastard child up for adoption to a nat in Pearl Berkowitz, who raised David in the Coop City complex of apartments

in the Bronx. Now, the exact reason for his development into a serial killer are not known, but by the age of twenty two, he was, as one cop put it later, three courts low, he thought Blood's thirsty demons were controlling him, one in particular, named Sam, who was embodied in a neighbor's black lab dog.

his conviction. Now an introduction is not really fair. There's a little bit of sarcasm in there, but some assess of course, there was a defense that no one is ever quite sure whether he was faking his insanity or was he truly insane, And the courts have never really cared too much in terms of giving any credence to the insanity plea, especially when you've incited this much terror on an entire city, like Son of Sam David Berkowitz did this is? Son of Sam, writes to police and

the press. Dear Captain Joseph Borelli, I am deeply hurt by your calling me a woman hater. I am not, but I am a monster. I am the son of Sam. I am a little brat. When Father Sam gets drunk, he gets mean. He beats his family. Sometimes he ties me up to the back of the house. Other times he locks me in the garage. Sam loves to drink blood. Papa Sam keeps me locked in the attic too. I can't get out, but I look out the attic window and watch the world go by. I feel like an outsider.

I am on a different wavelength than everybody else. Program to kill, however, to stop me, you must kill me. Attention all police, shoot me first, shoot to kill or else. Keep out of my way, or you will die. Papa Sam is old now he needs some blood to preserve his youth. He's had too many heart attacks. Too many heart attacks. It hurts sunny boy. I miss my pretty princess most of all. She's residing in our lady's house. But I'll see her soon. I am the monster, Beezelbub,

the chubby behemoth. Go out and kill commands Father Sam. Behind our house. Some rest, mostly young, raped and slaughtered, their blood drained, just bones. Now Papasam keeps me locked in the attic two, mister Barelli, Sir, I don't want to kill anymore, No, sir, no more, but I must honor thy father. I want to make love to the world. I love people. I don't belong to Earth. Return me to yahoos, to the people of Queen's I love you, and I want to wish you all a happy Easter.

May God bless you in this life and the next. And for now I say goodbye and goodnight. Please let me haunt you with these words. I'll be back. I'll be back. To be interrupted as bang bang bang bang yours in murder, mister monster. And now he's written a letter to Jimmy Breslin, a reporter for the New York Daily News. Now this is he's terrorizing the city, and he's writing letters to police and to journalists. So that's

how you get famous, You really get famous. Hello from the gutters of New York City, which are filled with dog manure. Vomit, stale wine, urine in blood. Hello from the sewers of New York City, which swallow up the delicacies when they are washed away by the sweeper trucks. Hello from the cracks and the sidewalks of New York City, and from the ants that dwell in these cracks and feed on the dried blood of the dead that has

seeped into these cracks. I'm just dropping you a line to let you know I appreciate your interest in this most recent horrendous forty four caliber killings. Also want to tell you that I read your column daily and I find it quite informative.

you in this life. And the next and for now I say goodbye and good night yours and murder mister monster. So maybe we'll move on from David Berkowitz. Again, that's sort of a mix of one of the only ones, one of the rare serial killers that went to trial with any kind of insanity defense. But as you could even almost read in this there's I don't know, it's sort of the mix of the lucid and it's very insane,

So I don't know. There was always question on that defense that he got messages from his dog and Satan. So now I've done a program, But as spoken to Jeffrey Dahmer, there are two or three books I believe, or at least a couple that we've covered on this program in the last three years, but no book specifically

about Jeffrey Dahmer. Since the books that were written about Dahmer were very well covered, and the authors that wrote those definitive books about Jeffrey Dahmer, it was such a long time ago, thirty years ago plus that there is those are the hardest authors to come back on and talk about a classic book about their work with Jeffrey Dahmer, their experience and the book itself, because they've done numerous, numerous interviews and they have either moved on to other

projects or are currently on busy with other book projects, and it's hard to keep back straight, and so there's this less desire. Anyway, this book is a great provider of information. And let's talk about Jeffrey Dahmer a little bit. Jeffrey Dahmer was born in Milwaukee. In nineteen sixty. When

he was six years oldest family moved to Ohio. There's not a great body of evidence to hint about or clearly to explain what happened to create Jeffrey Dahmer the killer, but is known that as a child he witnesses his mother and father's arguments, which of course would be might be threatening to a child. There also reports that a male neighbor had sexually molested him, nothing really confirmed, whatever

the confluence of forces. By the age of ten, Jeffrey was clearly showing the signs of a future serial killer. He delighted in violating the bodies of dead animals, such as mounting the head of a dog on a steak, decapitating rats and mice, and bleaching chicken bones. In June nineteen seventy eight, when he was eighteen years old, he murdered his first human being. His mother and father had separated by this time, had gone off somewhere on separate journeys,

and had left him alone in the house. He had access to a car, and he picked up a hitchhiker named Stephen Hicks. He took Stephen home with him with the hopes of having sex with him, but when Hicks won to leave, Dahmer prevented him by smashing him in the skull with a barbell, and then Dahmer cut him up and buried the parts. He just said later he didn't want him to leavenineteen eighty two, Dahmer moved in

with his grandmother in West Alice, Wisconsin. In August of that year, he was arrested for exposing himself at a state fair. In September nineteen eighty six, he was charged again with public exposure after two boys accused him of masturbating in public. This time, he was sentenced to a year in prison. On September twenty fifth, nineteen eighty eight, he was arrested for finling a thirteen year old Lowatian

boy in Milwaukee. On May twenty third, nineteen eighty nine, Dahmer's lawyer, Gerald Boyle and assistant district Attorney Gail Shelton presented their argument to Judge William Gardner. Sheldon won in a prison sentence of at least five years. In my judgment, is absolutely crystal clear that the prognosis for treatment for mister Dahmer within the community is extremely bleak. His perception that what he did wrong here was choosing too young a victim and that's all he did wrong is part

of the problem. He appeared to be cooperative and recepted, but anything that goes below the surface indicates the deep seated anger and deep seated psychological problems that he is unwilling or incapable of dealing with. He did have a good lawyer in this, Gerald Boyle, and Dahmer was quite well spoken at trial and spoke to a judge who wanted to lock him up and throw away the key

because he had served time for sexual offenses previously. In the end, he got a year, served ten months in a work release camp, and then he convinced the judge that he needed therapy. He was released on good behavior with five years of probation. Shortly Thereafter, he racked up a string of brutal murders, some of which involved cannibalism, ending with his nineteen ninety one I want to rest this is Jeffrey Dahmer. I think in some way I wanted it to end, even if it meant my own destruction,

to relieve the minds of the parents. I mean, it's a small, very small thing, but I don't know what else I could do. At least I can do that because I created this horror, and it only makes sense that I do everything to put an end to it, a complete end to it. It's just a nightmare, Let's put it that way. It's been a nightmare for a long time, even before I was caught. For years now, obviously, my mind has been filled with gruesome, horrible thoughts and ideas,

a nightmare. I couldn't find any meeting in my life when I was out there. I'm sure as hell I'm not going to find it in here. This is the grand finale of my life, poorly spent, and the end result is just overwhelmingly depressing. It's just a sick, pathetic, wretched, miserable life story. That's all it is. How can it help anyone. And I have no idea. I don't even know if I have the capacity for normal emotions or not,

because I haven't cried for a long time. You just stifled them for so long that maybe you lose them partially at least, I don't know. I don't know why it started. I don't have any definitive answers on that myself. If I knew the true real answers of why all this started before it ever did, I wouldn't probably have done any of it. If I'd been thinking rationally, I would have stopped. I wasn't thinking rationally because it just

increased and increased. It was almost like I wanted to get to a point where it was out of my control and that there was no return. I mean, I was very careful for years and years, you know, very careful, very careful about making sure that nothing in criminal remain. But these last few months they were just nuts. It just seemed like it went into a frenzy. This last month, everything really came crashing down. The whole thing started falling down around my head. That was the last week I

was going to be in that apartment building. I was going to have to move and find somewhere to put all my possessions. Should I get a chest and put what I wanted to keep in that and get rid of the rest? Or should I put an end to this, try to stop this and find a better direction for my life. That's what was going through my mind that last week. One thing I know for sure, it was a definite compulsion because I couldn't quit. I tried, but

after the Ambassador, I couldn't quit. It'd be nice if someone could give me the answer on the silver platters, the way I did all this and what caused it. Because I can't comp up with the answer. I felt a complete shock. I just couldn't believe it happened again, after all those years when I'd done nothing like this. I don't know what was going through my mind. I have no memory of it. I tried to dredge it up,

but I have no memory whatsoever. I didn't want to keep killing people and then have nothing left except the skull. It's going to sound bad, but should I say it I took the drill while he was asleep. Yes, I do have remorse, but I'm not even sure myself whether it's a profound. It's as profound as it should be. I've always wondered myself why I don't feel more remorse. After the fear and terror of what I had done had left, which took about a month or two, I

started all over again. From then on, it was a craving, a hunger. I don't know how to describe it, a compulsion, and I was just I just kept doing it, doing it, and doing it whenever the opportunity presented itself. I knew my Grandma would be waking up, and I still wanted to stay with I still wanted him to stay with me, so I strangled him and I brought him up to the bedroom and pretended he was still alive. That night in Ohio, that was one impulsive night. Nothing's been normal

since then. It taints your whole life. After it happened, I thought I'd just try to live as normally as possible and bury it. But things like that don't stay buried. I didn't think it would, but it does. It taints your whole life. At about eleven o'clock at night, when everyone was gone and the store was locked up from the outside, I went out and undressed a mannequin and

I had a big sleeping bay cover. I put it in that, zipped it up and carried it out of the store, which is a pretty dangerous thing to do. I never thought of them maybe having security cameras or being locked up in the store. But I walked out with it and took it back home. I ended up getting a taxi and brought it back and kept it

with me a couple weeks. I just went through various sexual fantasies with it, pretending it was a real person, pretending I was having sex with it, masturbating and undressing it. This is on the murder of Anthony Sears. I took the knife from the scalp part off and peeled the flesh off the bone and kept the skull and the scalp. But I could have kept them longer, all of him, I would have. This is he talks about a quote about Geraldo Herrera. He just wants to make people feel

as guilty and lousy as possible. The guy is such a prick. This is on the murder of Ernest Miller. I separated the joints, the arm joints, the leg joints. He had to do two boilings. I think I used four boxes of soilex for each one put in the upper portion of the body and boiled out for about two hours, and then the low were portioned for another two hours. The soil actually removes all of the flesh, turns it into a jelly like subst and it just

rinses off. And then I laid the clean bones into in a light bleached solution, left them there for a day, and spread them out on either newspaper cloth and let them drive for about a week in the bedroom. Talks about the murders that weighed heaviest on his mind. On Steven Hicks, I wish I hadn't done it. On Stephen Tawami, I had no intention of doing it in the first place. On Jeremiah Weinberger, he was exceptionally affectionate. He was nice

to be with. Something stronger than my conscience will made it happen. I think some higher power got good and fed up with my activity and decide to put an end to it. I don't really think there was that was any coincidence the way it ended, and whether the close calls were warning to me or what, I don't know. If they were, I sure didn't heed them. If I hadn't been caught or lost my job, I'd still be doing it. I'm quite sure that I went on doing it and doing it, and doing it in spite of

my anxiety and the lack of lasting satisfaction. How arrogant and stupid of me to think I could do something like this and just go about my life normally, as if nothing ever happened. They say you reap what you sew. Well, it's true, you do eventually. I've always wondered from the time that I committed the first horrid mistake sin with Hicks, where this was sort of predestined and there was no

way I could have changed it. I wondered just how much predestination controls a person's life, and just how much control they have over themselves. I was completely swept along with my own compulsion. I don't know how else to put it. It didn't satisfy me completely, so maybe I was thinking another one will, maybe this one will. And the numbers started growing and growing and just got out of control. As you can see, this is reflections on death. It's just like a big chunk of me has been

ripped out, and I'm not quite whole. I don't think I'm over dramatizing it, and I'm certainly deserving of it. But the way I feel now, it's just like you're talking to someone who is terminally ill and facing death. Death would be preferable to what I'm facing. I just feel like imploding upon myself, you know, I just want to go somewhere and disappear. When you've done the types of things I've done, it's easier not to reflect on yourself.

When I start thinking about how it's affecting the families of the people and the family and family and everything, it doesn't do me any good. It just gets me upset. If I was killed in prison, that would be a blessing right now. Well, that was a blessing right now, I guess because that's what happened.

and cannibalizing ten year old Grace Budd. Doctor Frederick Warholm of Bellevue Hospital said the fish had committed literally every human perversion that Warreham had ever heard of, including cop profit, corporography, eating feces, decorism, striking needles into his body, undinism, being urinated on or urinating on someone else, in a wide variety of saddle masochistic activities. Probably his favorite for first activity was being whipped or imagining someone else being whipped.

Fish had a hallacious childhood, as the great majority of serial murders do. Fish was a child of a thirty two year old woman and a seventy five year old man who promptly died, leaving his young wife to care for the boy. Overwhelmed, she placed him in an orphanage and spent his early years learning all the perversions from

other castaway kids that he was to practice on. As he grew into adulthood, Fish often wrote to women trying to set up house with him, letters that were so crazy that at one point he was prosecuted by the Post Office and sent to Bellevue Hospital, the premier New York psychiatric hospital. His intense interest in saddle. Masochism and corpography was plainly evident in as many of in the many of the letters he wrote. These letters became part of the record in his trial for the murder of

ten year old Grace Budd. When writing to various families, he did not use his real name, but rather either James W. Pell or or Robert Hayden pardon either James W. Pell or Robert Hayden, and he posed as an important person. Following is a typical missive. He wrote to a woman named Grace, using the name Robert Hayden to mention James W. Pell was Fish who visited the woman and her daughter,

and he has little exces to denote kiss marks. My dearest darling, sweetness, Grace, your dear loving little note at hand, we missed a train an act of James W. Pell. When I told him we were going to Virginia, he said he wanted to go to you, and he spake and whipped with rape on his bare asked by you and your daughter, pardon me. This is a chat with

Albert Fish. Though Fish never testified his own trial, he was questioned by the New York Police Department, and the transcript was read at his trial, Following our transcripts of what he told Captain Stein of the New York Police Department, chiefly concerning the abduction and murder of Grace Bud, ten year old Grace Bud before you went to live with your daughter, where were you living with another daughter in Astoria,

missus Gertrude di Marco? Did you ever live at four or nine East one hundredth Street, Manhattan, Yes, when in nineteen twenty eight? Yes? What time of the year was that, other than from about April until the middle of June. Sometime in the month of May nineteen twenty eight. In answer to an advertisement that appeared in the World paper, did you go to a residence four or six West fifteenth Street, Manhattan, the address of the Bud family, Yes, sir.

Just what was the advertisement that brought you to that address? A young boy advertised for a job on a farm, any kind of work. And I went to the home of the Buds. When was that on Saturday, June nineteen twenty eight? And I had spoken in reference to taking the boy because it was the boy she thought was going to go. When I got to the home, a little girl came over and sat in my lap, and I sort of had a feeling come across me to

take the little girl. Now. Fish had left the package containing a cleaver saw and knife down by an unoccupied news stand before walking to and entering the home of the Buds. Now, why did you have that cleaver saw and knife? Why did you buy them? I didn't have any intention at all of killing the girl, but I sort of had. I could not describe it, a sort of bloodthirst. The notion got into my head and I intended to use those things on her. Brother, What made

you use them on her? Then? I can never account for it. I would have given my life within a half hour after I'd done it to restore it to her. This little girl you mentioned here, have you since learned? Her name was Grace Bud? I knew it. I knew it then. They told me at the house her name was Grace. The mother told her name was Grace. Yes, to the best of your recollection, what time of the day was this? Between one and two we had lunch together? And what times you'd take Grace Bud from her home?

Three pm? Fish had been unable to do this, had been able to do this with the Grace family because he told him they were going to a birthday party at his sister's house. Now, missus Bud was reluctant to let her go, but mister Bud was confident with mister Albert Fish, who was using an alias here when Pelle he was, and he convinced her to let Grace go to the party. And Albert said there was going to be cake, and there was going to be balloons and

other girls there. And so they trusted this guy immediately because they felt that he was a good sign because he was there answering an ad trying to employ the sun. And then when he saw the daughter. Anyway, this was the ruse. Now they questioned him, how did you travel? We left the house and I took the elevated train on ninth Avenue in fourteenth Street. We went to Segwid Segwich Avenue, and I forgot just how we did it, but we transferred from there to Van corn And Park.

Then we took to New York and Putnam Branch four three sixth eight New York Central Railroad to Worthington, New York, Westchester County. And that makes it that you arrived in Worthington about what time while we arrived there. I guess about a little after three. Walked all the way in from Worthington to Elmsford. There was a trolley car at that time running into White Plains. When you got off the train at Worthington, you had forgotten the package containing

the cleaver knife and saw is that correct? Yes? It was wrapped up and stood up and striped canvas and stood on its end, leaning up against the window side of the car. We were both almost out of the train, and the girl happened to look back. She said, you forgot your package, and she ran back and she got it. Did you tell her what was in it? No? Then what? We walked up the road to a two family house.

Was it occupied? No? Empty? It still is empty. Outside was a field of wildflowers, and I said, you play out here in the yard while I go in. So I went in and I opened this package and spread it out on the floor. I expected to be spattered up with blood, so I took off my clothing and put them in the closet. Was she dressed when we left her house? She had on a blue coat, light pale blue hat. Underneath that was a white dress, underwear, shoes and stockings. What kind of shoes did she have on?

White shoes and stockings, pure white, all the way up to her, all the way on the way up to her house. Up to the house, it was kind of warm, so I said, take off your hat and coat. She did. I rolled the hat under the coat and put it under a rock. The water had formed an aperture. Running down the hill to put the package, to put a package there that was on the way up. Then I went to the window and called the little girl Grace

to come in, to come up. When she got to the top of the steps one flight up, she appeared to be kind of frightened. I was nude, and she started to run back. I grabbed her, and she said she would she would tell her mamma. So I took her into the room and choked her to death, and I cut the body up into three pieces. I tried to drink the warm blood, but it made me sick. What made you kill her? Choke her and kill her? I'd been reading a lot of cases of children being kidnapped,

the Bobby White case. I recalled that in several other cases that had that. And then I had a brother who served five years in the Navy, United States Navy was honorably discharged, and he used to relate to me when I was quite small. He was oldest of my mother's seven children. Walter H. Fish was his name. He had been to China where there was a famine when they were using human flesh for blood for food. He used to tell us a lot of these things, and that really got into my head. Did you commit any

rape on her? Never entered my head. What tools did you use to kill? The knife to cut her throat? Yes? And I chopped her with the cleaver. Did you use the saw? No? Now, six years after he abducted and murdered Grace Bud, the Bud's got a letter from Fish. If you can believe this, whom they knew was Frank Howard,

pardon me, not William pell. It's fair to say that it is one of the vilest letters ever penned, and it proved to be Fish's undoing because a brilliant, determined New York Police Department cop named William King used it to help track Fish down. Following is the part of the letter that was most relevant to William King. On Sunday, June third, nineteen twenty twenty eight. I called you at four or six West fifteenth Street. Grace sat in my

lap and kissed me. I made up my mind to eat her on the pretense of taking her to a party. You said yes, she could go. I took her to an end empty house on Westchester I had already picked out. When we got there, I told her to remain outside. She picked wild flowers. I went upstairs and stripped all my clothes off. I knew if I had did. If I did not, I would get blood on them. When all was ready, I went to the window and called her, then hid in the closet until she was in the room.

When she saw me all naked, she began to cry and tried to run downstairs. I grabbed her, and she said she would tell her mamma. First I stripped her naked. How she did, kick, bite and scratched. I choked her to death and cut her into small pieces so I could take my meat to my room, cook and eat it. How sweet and tender her little ass was roasting in the oven. It took me nine days to eat her entire body. I did not fuck her, but I could

have if I wished. She died of virgin so That's why Albert Fish is one of the most famous serial killers of all time. Because not even the capable of doing what you do. It's we need fiction really now. It was quite a bit of interest in the program just recently when we did the reissue of Slow Death from Jim Fielder, the late great Jim Fielder and with Sheila Johnson, Pinnacle author has been on the program with

her great books, I think three times. And anyway, Sheila Johnson writes about some wild, wild cases, and she was asked to write a forward and an update on the Slow Death book which reissued by Pinnacle involving David Parker HRE and his Disciples of Hell Disciples from Hell in Outer Space. I guess. Anyway, David Parker Ray for those that can't get enough of this guy, because this guy's amazing. Again, who needs fiction's tame compared to this David Parker Ray.

Vernon Gibberth g birth, America's top homicide cop. He's been involved in over eight thousand wrongful death investigation believes that David Parker Ray was the most vicious serial killer he has ever encountered. Clinically, I would describe him as the ultimate psychopathic saddist. Investigatively, I would define him as a human predator. Spiritually, I would describe him as the devil on earth. Now, the author puts, please note the following

material is especially disturbing, and it's all disturbing. Ray, his wife Hendy, their daughter Glenda Jesse, and a friend named Roy Yancey, participating the abduction of women usually prostitutes their

runaways from the streets of New Mexico towns. They would then take them to raise compound and inside a windowlows trailer called the toy Box, where Ray and the others would strip them naked nude, tie them in obscene positions in a gynocologist's chair, and then torture them by administering electric current serting assortment of large and odd shaped dildos into their bodies, slicing them with razors and knives, and

sexually assaulting them with homemade tortured devices. The pain the women endured and their cries and screams provided David Parker Ray's sexual stimulation. When women were all used up, as it were, Ray would kill them, often by strangulation, and dump their bodies. He likely killed thirty or more in a twenty five mile lake he had access to. To make sure the bodies would surface, he would first gut

them and packed stones inside. Pardon me, I just there's quite a bit on David Parker Ray because he was very It's the word he loved to talk and keep records and speak about and and this is part of his uh signature and his uh hism. It's called background noise. David Parker Ray and his cohorts made videotapes and audio tapes. These are other tapes Ray may distinguish themselves by being

interrupted by the screams of slaves being tortured. Following is from one such tape where he's talking to a captive. I make very special adult videos. Videos sell for about one thousand dollars each and they're only sold to a very select group of collectors and sadistic So a group of collectors of sadistic erotica. I learned over the years that there's a hell of a lot of people out there with some awful, weird fantasies. I rather enjoy the work.

The money's great. Our customers want a lot of wide angle and close up camera shots of the brass nipples and sex organs being abused with a variety of instruments in a variety of ways. The action has to be real. It can't be faked. We need to actually kidnap a woman for the action scenes. Sometimes the movies are shot in the woods, sometimes in a boat or in the desert. Other times we shoot you in a dungeon type room in our house. The shooting of the action scenes usually

takes three or four days. We videotape a dozen or so rapes, several whippings, and several hours of abuse with a woman chained in a variety of different positions. And if I must say so myself, we put out some pretty damn good movies. There's a bright side to this. Before I turn you loose, I'm going to give you a hundred dollars for your trouble. Thirty forty thirty to forty percent of the movie will be where the camera

zooms in for a close up between your legs. So all you have to do is show us what you have already probably already shown some other poor sucker who had to pay a lot more than a hundred bucks to catch a glimpse of the promised land. The pink hole fuck flicks or a dime a dozen. You can buy them all over the place for eight or nine dollars and ninety five cents. Our group of clients wants

to see a woman actually raped, whipped, and tortured. They'd like to see a woman wiggle, squirm, bite the chains, and sweat a lot. And if you don't sweat enough, we'll put baby oil on you on your body to stills simulate it. We strive to please. That's our claim to fame. I prefer to use the word abuse because I don't think we actually torture a woman in our films. Let's get into a few types of abuse. We use damn big dildos on your two holes, and they look

wicked as hell. We're careful when we use them, with restraint. That's necessary to create illusion of reality. If our procedures don't cause pain, we we wouldn't have to kidnap a live woman to make these movies. Since these movies are into bondage, it's necessary that we tie up your tits. We tach long Nyland chords to each nip. When we put on a few drops of super glue to bond the chord to the skin, the women's breasts are very elastic and they can be stretched upward like two slender cones.

You're going to squeal like a stuck pig while I'm doing it, but it won't bother me at all. It will also be whipped about twenty lashes during each session. The whip has to be used hard enough to leave some good weltz for the camera. I don't want to get you all bloody, so the whip strokes will be concentrated on your thighs, your butt, sex organs, belly and tits, and even if you're gagged, the microphones will pick up the sound. The whip is a great tool for effect.

It never ceases to amaze me how barbaric some people can be. Our customers want to see you getting hurt. We use some gigantic dildos to create some special effects. We pull the skin around your vagina back and then thrust in a dildo four to six inches wide at the base. On the viewing screen, it looks pretty terrible. It looks like we're tearing you apart. And this we want the viewer to think. Our customers think that's exactly what we do to a girl when we make these movies,

but that's not the way it works at all. Abruptly voices can be heard in the background. You may be tempted to strike out, kick, hurt, bite, try to screw. I wouldn't do that if I were you. Now, there's still lots of screaming, sighing, and crying in the background. Can't you all keep that bitch quiet in there? Put a gag in her or something. Fuck, I'm trying to make a tape out here. Close that damn playroom door. Anything the background screaming ceases. Shit, that's better. Fuck that

bitch has got a set of lungs in her. My friend was forcing the devil's dick up her ash and she didn't like it. For shit, that's for sure. Now where were we now? Just be careful what you do with your hands and feet. If you piss me off, things are going to get a hell of a lot rougher. A woman scratched me in the face one time and I cut her clip off. Another thing I might tell you right now is that starts talking to someone in

the background. What what do you all want? Loud noises in the background, All right, damn it, Wait a minute, let me turn this damn machine off here, there's a pause. Well I'm back. Shit, had laughs. Shit, They're like a bunch of little kids in there with a new toy. They just wanted me to show them how to use the electro shock machine. That little that little content there is chained down and she can't be over fifteen or sixteen years old. My friend sure giving her a working over. Damn.

I guess I should have made this tape when it was a little bit quieter, But you know how it goes. The excitement of the moment and all that shit. Anyhow, what I was going to tell you a while ago, what there's is absolutely no way in hell that you're going to be turned loose until I'm done with you. Hal. I even picked up one little bitch seventeen or eighteen years old that told me she had a two week old baby at home, and I didn't doubt it for

a minute. After I had her in for a few hours, her nipples start leaking, mill constantly made a hell of a mess. Even with all her excuses, I still didn't turn her loose. And I'm sure as hell I'm not going to turn your loose. Loud screaming and cries can be heard in the background. Damn, that's carrying right through the walls. I don't know what they're doing to her, but it must be good. Hang on a minute, and I got to look in there, make sure they're not

killing a little whore. Three verses are heard in the back. Are heard in the background, the males and females and David Rays. Their words are hard to make out. Yeah, I'm back, laughs, She's okay. One of the girls was touching a lit cigarette to her nipples, but I told her not to do it anymore. I don't particularly like that, not because of the pain, because we're in a business of pain, but because cigarette burns kind of mess up a woman's appearance. That doesn't turn me on. So I

apologize for that. There's no way you can read Slow Death, read about the trial of David Parker Ray, or even understand unless you really understand. So I apologize for that language. But that's what jurors got to see or hear read. Listen to one of the most fascinating things about the Slow Depth story. And if you think, oh jeez, I've heard the true murder interview, I've heard some more stuff. The books are incredible that's why they become true crime classics.

That's why they're separated themselves from everything else. Number One, The story is incredible. The villains are incredible, the heroes are incredible, the victims are memorable and many times incredible. The woman, I'll never forget this, it's so vivid. Jim Fielder just nailed this description. But again, this is true, and this is right out of a horror movie. She escapes from her captors with a metal chain around her neck, a caller around her neck and chain attached and naked

and then tortured, the massifated, emaciated in terror. Running through a trailer, court, came up to a vehicle in that trailer, court tried to get that person's attention. They drove off, tried to ignore her, didn't want to be involved. We're afraid, who knows. But she finally got up to a bigger trailer. A couple was home, an older couple. She ran in

and this couple helped her. And of course if she wouldn't have made it up there just a few minutes behind, not far behind, are the villains, the ghouls, the demons, the humans, the serial killers in a vehicle looking for her, to take her back. And despite what David Parker Ray says about, you know, letting these people go, hypnotizing them, giving him a drug, you know, so they don't know, and washing him clean and letting them go. He killed

over thirty people or more. David Parker Ray slow death amazing. Now there's quite an exchange with Gary Ridgeway that the Green River Killer that was officially, I guess officially said officially had claimed that or they have claimed that he's killed at least forty nine women, went on for years and years, finally caught him and there's a famous wow.

There's been a lot of involvement. He was interrogated by at his name, David, I'm going to get the right Dave Reichert, yes, at the head of the Green River Task Force, who hated Ridgeway so much he brought him to tears. And Reichert also partnered Bob Keppel in questioning Ted Bundy to gleam insight on how the Green River Killer operated. That's again they've taken that and stretched that, and of course it's in a lot of movies, and it's also in Hannimal and The Criminal Mind. You know,

he's in a lot of stuff. The true fact that Ted Bundy, one of the most prolific, amazing, charismatic and evil serial killers of all time, offered, volunteered and was enlisted to help authorities the FBI profile Gary Ridgeway in the hope of trying to capture Gary Ridgeway, one of the worst serial killers ever. And Ted Bundy was right about a lot of things. So incredible again this way, these stories are classic, and the authors that were chosen

or chose these subjects either way, seek them out. They're all over the place these days and very reasonably priced. And so trust me, it's a slice of history. And as much as you think you know, there's a lot to know. And there's a lot more to these stories. Anyway, this Dave rekerd it's interesting. I kind of laugh, but he just hates this guy so much. And Ridgway thinks he's telling the truth, or he believes he's telling the truth. And it's an interesting exchange. It's not exactly humorous, but

it's very very very interesting. Gary Ridgeway doesn't admit too much, but it's interesting in the exchange. And of course, David Reichert, I don't I'm not laughing at him. It's just it's interesting how frustrated he is. And of course he gave it inexplicably involved with this killer forever and you just

can't get that experience out of you. Now to close, we're gonna and I got to say that there's HH Holmes, a little bit on Jack the Ripper BTK, and we spoke of Ted Bundy, John Wayne Gacy, some more so than others. There is a Swogo from South Africa. So this book is jam packed with the worst of the worst. And it's you know, almost three hundred pages. It's it covers a lot of killers, like I say, H Holmes, Jack the Ripper, Shawcross, Albert Fish, wes Le Allen Dodd.

So it's famous, more famous, but definitely the worst to the worst of the serial killers. To the end the program, we'll talk about Arthur Shawcross. Arthur Shawcross was born in Maine in nineteen forty five, but his family moved to Waterton, New York, near the Canadian border. While the real truth about his child is uncertain, he spoke of a turbulent family life and of being sexually abused by an aunt

at the age of nine. He had sex with his younger sister and had his first homosexual encounter at the Lage eleven. In nineteen sixty seven, he joined the army and served a one year tour of duty in Vietnam. He related horrendous stories of murder and mutilation in the jungles and villages. He would claim a combat kill of thirty nine enemies, but records showed that his units saw little if any combat. Once out of the service, he became a serial arsonist and was eventually arrested for trying

to break into a service station. He would serve two years of a five year sentence for this. In May of nineteen seventy two, the killing began. His first victim was ten year old boy, whom he lured into the woods on the promise of going fishing. His second victim was an eight year old girl whom he'd lured to a deserted area while showing her a new bicycle. Both children were strangled and the girl had been sexually assaulted. Eyewitness had even seen shot crossed with the children. He

was arrested. He confessed to both murders, but in a plea bargain deal, he was charged with only one count of manslaughter. He would serve fourteen and a half years of a twenty five year sentence. He was released early because he was a model prisoner. Authorities thought he had reformed and could safely return to society as productive citizen upon his parole, he find it difficult to find a

permanent residence. When newspapers or townspeople found out what has passed, there'd be an uproar and he'd have to move on. In an effort to settle him somewhat, the parole board made the monumentally but bad decision to cover his trail and seal his records from any further investigation. This allowed him to finally settle in Rochester, New York, an upstate

community situated on the Genese River. About a year after he got out of prison, the bodies of murdered prostitutes began showing up, usually dumped in the Genese Gorge area. The women had all been affixiated and sometimes mutilated. As a body count kept rising, and the same oh memmo was seen over and over, Rochester police realized that they were dealing with a serial killer. An intense man hunt began.

One winter day, the police got a lucky break, a helicopter pilot spotted a body splayed on the ice below on a river. Chawcross was then seen urinating outside his car, which is still parked on the bridge. He was followed and questioned. In the face of mounting evidence, Chacross finally admitted to ten murders. Arthur Shawcross was in a many times with police, psychiatrist and law enform forcement personnel. Here was what he had to say about one experience he

had when he was in the service in Vietnam. Yeah, I go out there and came across a woman and a girl was putting an AK forty seven on the side of a coop, and I shot her, tied gagged her, took her up where I had a clear view the area, tied her to a tree. I didn't have nothing to eat that day, and I took a big chunk of the hip of the girl. I took up all the skin and took a piece of green bamboo and I ran it up inside the bone and roasted it on

the fire. After it cooked down, it was almost like eating coal broiled pork, the consistency of a dry roast beef. I was just in the mood that's all. After I was done eating it didn't taste that bad. I took the body and carried it down through the jungle area where I knew there was a big ant hill and laid it on the ant hill. Went back to the tree and was sitting there sharpening the machete and eating that meat. The other girl had sweat running off of her.

I tied her hands and tied her on the ground and raped her and I cut her throat, took her head up where the house was and put the head on a stick right in front of the house. The next one was June. Sierra Shatgrast told one psychiatrist. She flagged me down and she was pretty I strung and and she got in the car and we were driving out thirty one somewhere, and right at that moment, I can't think. I can't remember, you know, I just remember

I put her in. It was snowing and snowplows were on the road, and I pulled up by this place, this culvert area, just just pushed her out of the car and she went out the guard rail, over the guardrail, and what clothes that were still in the car I put in the Salvation Army Box on manituin one o four and I think about two three days went by. I went back and I had I'd cut her, cut the vagina right out of her bone and bone and all of that, and I was driving around with that

somewhere out there. I ate that too. And that's from material from the late great Jack Olson, which I believe is the best true crime writer ever. Ah and no, no slight to anyone else, material from Jack Olson The Misbegotten Son, nineteen ninety three. So that's I Monster by

Tom Philbin. I hope that the people that do did tune in were not offended, as I certainly did warn you, and join me next week for Erotophonophilia Investigating Lust Murder with my special guest journalist, academic professor Janet McClelland, so tune in for that. Good night