Archive for murderer

How I choose my victims

Posted in Diary with tags , , , , , on September 22, 2009 by J.A.C.K.

Many people ask me how do I choose my victims. I know they ask me that because they are afraid to be chosen (they should be). The thing is that there are no rules.

It’s the same as to decide between a blue or green t-shirt. I would pick the blue one but there is no explanation, it’s just because I like it better, for no logical reason.

As I said on one of my posts, sometimes I choose the person, sometimes I choose a place. When I find a street, an alley, anywhere very easy to strike and get away, and my hunger is already affecting me, I can’t hold myself. I wait on that place, and then I choose someone in there. But who I’m going to choose, there is no explanation how. I just choose one.
But what I like the most is to choose someone first, and having to plan everything, get to know their routine, choose a place to strike, how to get away. All the planning process is very fulfilling. On this stage, I can picture the murder a lot of times before I do it for real. And I choose this person the same why I pick a T-shirt color. I just pick one.

And a third method is when there is someone bothering me, like those detectives of that “secret organization”. I really enjoy getting rid of them, killing one by one. But I have to be very careful. If the person can be directly linked to you, it’s a lot easier to get caught. If they can’t, it’s nearly impossible if it’s done right.

So, don’t worry. There is no way to prevent from being chosen by me or someone like me. There is no way to escape as well. Just live your life knowing that it can possibly happen. And if it happens, enjoy, because I will.

The everyday life of a murderer

Posted in Diary with tags , , , on August 25, 2009 by J.A.C.K.

This weekend I spent locked in my apartment. I am what I am, but that’s not all that I am. Although I have other necessities, maybe different from you, have you ever thought that I don’t spend every minute just killing or hunting? (unfortunately though, because I think about it all the time)

Well, what I do with my “free time” is very unusual, I noticed. I don’t have a very active social life, I don’t like it, but I have to keep the appearance to the society. I have a regular job, I’m not gonna tell you what I do right now to don’t make things easy to the so called “detectives”, but I do work. Anyone in there never suspected a thing. I don’t like people so much, it’s probably something about how I was raised, but I know if I didn’t get out with some colleagues every now and then it could call the attention. So I do it.

But what I like the most is to spend my “free time” locked alone, when I’m not looking for any entertainment. I just like the sensation of not having any contact at all with the outside world. Just me and my thoughts inside four walls.

For some reason everything that I do have a bitter taste to me, if it doesn’t involve blood. But I do like the bitter taste of reading, of thinking, but above everything, of planning my next strike, of remembering the past deaths. Every killing I have in my back, the memories of it seems to give me power, energy. I remember every detail of each one. In a way, my preys live forever with me.

I live in an apartment, not in the house that I keep my torture room. It would be too obvious, too easy to be incriminated. I don’t even live near by it. There is nothing in my apartment that’s not “normal”. It took some time for me to learn what normal is to the world, but I did learn. Maybe you are one of my “friends”. Maybe you have visited my apartment. I can assure you that you would never notice the monster inside me.

The way I have survived all this time without being caught is that I avoid the most to take the life of people that could be linked to me. Just killing random people makes it almost impossible to get caught. It’s not like I never did it, but I avoid it the best I can. All that “CSI” stuff we watch on TV makes people think that the police can solve any crime, and that’s what they want you to believe. But the truth is that they can’t. The cops may have all that technology, but they won’t use it for every crime, it would be too expensive. And without having a body, there is no way that they could get to you investigating the disappearance of someone that you are not linked with.

I am what I am because I can afford it, it’s not for everyone. Many end up in jail, I never did, never will. As I like to say, my best is my worst.

Do you really want to find a serial-killer?

Posted in Diary with tags , , , , , on July 20, 2009 by J.A.C.K.

The detective from the last post turned into ashes.
Saying like that doesn’t sound like a very painful process, but I can assure that it was. I kept him alive for 5 days, at least in parts.

It’s fun to observe how these detectives behave before they get to know me and after. It’s easy to be brave sitting in front of a computer, virtually chasing someone, but they never keep it up sitting in my chair.

This last guy was very productive to me. First, and most important, it was very fun and pleasant to slowly take his life, and watch him pray every of his last 432,000 seconds to die fast. And second because in his suffering he gave as much information about his fellow detectives and this Intelligence and Surveillance Agency as he could. Unfortunately (or fortunately) they don’t communicate much among them, so he didn’t know everything.

Now I know more about my preys who think that are hunters. I will let them keep thinking that by now: they won’t see me coming. I guess they have no idea of what they are playing with. When they usually realize, there is no turn back.

To get rid of this body I decided to do something different. I didn’t want anybody to find even a small piece of him, so he would be given as missing for as long as possible. So I made a big barbecue from his corpse. I didn’t eat it though. I left his body floating in alcohol for a whole day, so it could absorb the flammable substance like a sponge. The next day I used my barbecue grill to toast it to the bones, just leaving the ashes. It worked beautifully.

For anyone who finds and reads my journal: if you don’t have the balls to face me, don’t go after me. Maybe sometime you will find what you are looking for. What are you most afraid of? Death? Most of my victims think I’m way worst than death. Give it up and maybe, just maybe, you won’t have the pleasure to meet me.

A not so easy murder

Posted in Diary with tags , , , , , , on July 13, 2009 by J.A.C.K.

With all the information I’ve gathered from my past victims I have defined some new targets. I have their names, addresses, occupation, even some pieces of conversation among them.
I’ve been following the steps of this “Intelligence and Surveillance Agency” but now it seems that many detectives have either given up, or are too frightened, or are really lost and don’t know what to do now. I know what to do.

The last two weeks I’ve been after one of its detective. I was observing each of his steps, but it was kind of difficult to make a move at first. The guy didn’t live alone, he lived with his family. The route he used to do everyday, from his house to the work, and backwards, was too crowded. He didn’t use to get out home much, and when he did, was to a public place.

I don’t want the members of the agency to know that I’m hunting them, so I’m trying to don’t show that this people disappearance or death are in reality murders (at least don’t make it too obvious).

So I just waited and observed. It’s not as easy as it sounds because when you are after someone, you don’t want people in the community to notice you have been observing. I was leaving my car some blocks away, never at the same place, and stood hiding in a spot I found near his house. Everyday. Same thing when he was working, I was just waiting for the best time to strike.

Finally this past Friday he called for a taxi at night. He got into it alone and I followed him. He stopped at a bar, and started drinking with some of his friends. Right away, I drove looking for a taxi stop kind of far from the bar, and found one that there was just one cab waiting. I stopped the car, got to it walking, and asked the driver to take me to a street I knew (it was a very dark and uninhabited street). As soon as he got there, I killed the driver with a knife, cutting his throat. Got the things he had to pretend a robbery, left his body there, and drove back to the bar where my friend was standing. And I waited some blocks away from it, in a place that I still could see the bar.

I was paying attention when the “detective” got out of the bar, waiting for something. At this time I realized he must have called for a taxi and was now waiting for it. So I drove there, stopped right in front of him, and without having to say a thing, he got into the car. He told me his destination (his house). He was seating in the back seat, what made things a little bit more difficult. But what helped is that he was kind of drunk.

When I got at the address and he was going to pay for the ride, I grabbed his hands, pulled him closer to me, and injected a substance I had prepared at his arms. He tried to scream, but the little time he had before falling asleep I held him by the throat.

All I had to do then was take him to my torture room, and burn the taxi leaving no clues behind. That’s what I did. Now the poor guy is sitting in my chair. Let’s see how long he will last.

Perfect Crime: Part II

Posted in Diary with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 27, 2009 by J.A.C.K.

To wake the guy, I stabbed a knife into his leg. He was gagged, but he opened his eyes screaming inside. I didn’t want to take my chances of having him calling the attention of the neighbors, so I “interviewed” him, having my answers written on a piece of paper. I didn’t get much, but I didn’t want much more from him.

I made him suffer a lot. All I had in the end was his torso, in half, the members apart, and a disfigured head. It was already morning when I finished, 3 hours before he used to go to work, just as I had programmed.

So I carefully cleaned all the basement, not leaving a single hair.
Then I threw “him” in the kitchen’s floor, turned on the gas, and programmed a “detonator” I prepared to fire in about 45 minutes. And I sneaked out, taking care to don’t be noticed (as it was 5 in the morning, the city was still sleeping).

Just as I planned: BUM! After some minutes the firearm arrived and found a destroyed kitchen, a vaporized body and a house on fire.
And what the police must have figured is that the guy woke up, started to prepare his breakfast, leaving the coffee or something else on the fire and went to take a shower or to dress up, to prepare to go to work. The wind or something must have ceased the flame, the gas was kept open. When he got to the kitchen, the gas was so strong he passed out. And any spark caused it to explode. And I dare anyone to prove it wrong.

Now I gonna search for his friends.

Perfect Crime: Part I

Posted in Diary with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 20, 2009 by J.A.C.K.

It’s done. The damnass is dead. And if I wasn’t writing it in here nobody would ever know he was killed.

As I was saying, I suspected this guy was part of the secret organization that was chasing me. I noticed he was working on something through the internet every night.
So I wanted to capture this guy, take my time to look through his stuff after any clues, and then kill him very slowly and painfully to satisfy my needs. But all that in a way that would leave no evidence of a crime, so the cops wouldn’t connect him to me.

The main evidence of a case is the body of the victim. With it the police can find out the cause of death and with it maybe get to the killer. As I wanted to completely disfigure and dismember this guy, I knew I had to destroy the body. Based on that I planned this murder.

I spent the last week studying the routine of this guy, so I knew that every week day, at 7pm, he would be back home from work. On Thursday, around 5pm, I broke into his house by the back door (with so many years of murder, I learned some skills), which I knew was going to be destroyed later because it was on the kitchen. I didn’t want the neighborhood to notice there was somebody into the house, so I waited quietly for him to arrive.

As soon as he got home, I knocked him down with a baseball bat, with a strong hit in his head. He didn’t even saw where it came from, and all that could be heard was a bump. No screams.

I tied him up in a chair as usual, in his basement. While he was sleeping, I copied all his notebook and desktop hard drive, including contacts, history of visited sites, everything… I was going to look at it later.

So at this time I already had him on my hands. I planned to finish my “work” at dawn, sometime before he usually go to work, so nobody would miss him. And that’s what I did.

You’ll end up tied to my chair

Posted in Diary with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 23, 2009 by J.A.C.K.

What a crazy week! I can’t even believe it!

Remember the girl from last week?
I still have her with me, in my “torture room”, in my basement.

Since I started doing business in this location, I’ve installed some chains to the wall, something like a medieval chamber chains.
So when I get someone, I lock their wrists with these chains, and they stay very low, close to the ground, so my victim has to be in a very uncomfortable position: either lying on the floor or on its knees. That’s where I had the girl.

There I was, secretly as usual, acting as if the cops already knew who I am.
And my suspicions turned to be true: they were after me, someone even found my torture room, but they still don’t know who I am!

I was in the basement when I heard a noise, someone getting into the house. I had just tortured the girl so much that she was asleep. I turned off all the lights.
A few minutes later, I heard someone going down the basement stairs. I saw a flashlight.
He seemed to be alone, and later on I found that I was right.
This detective started looking through my stuff, I got my shovel and knocked him down!

He was definitely after me, but it seemed that he didn’t even know how he got in there. I think it was only by luck. If someone really wants to get me, it will be needed a lot more than luck!
Only following a bunch of clues that to them makes no sense, each detective will end up as this poor soul I just got: tied to a chair in my torture room, waiting for its painful fate.

Are you listening? First things first.