Day 4375 of imprisonment. I am driving crazy being locked up like an animal. I can’t move, I can’t do anything nor can I still my needs. Not being able to satisfy my need to kill someone is killing me inside. My body is dried out and I am only able to think – think about the different ways of murdering someone, fantasizing about the joy it brought me and still brings. Only the thought about my previous victims arouses me but on the other hand it’s making me crave for more. For more joy, more blood, more violence… But just thinking about it leaves me dead and restless inside. It feels like they tore away an important part of myself.  I feel so useless inside here and I don’t like the fact that the state has control over me. I won’t allow someone to have power over me. That’s why I wanted to defend myself in court and not lay my destiny into the hands of a stupid lawyer. I thought about ways to escape from here so I could restart my purpose and connect with new victims. But every time I tried to escape they moved me and I had to start all over again – and I got angrier day by day. I certainly don’t get the proper treatment in here. I am an addict – addicted to killing. My body is trembling inside because of the withdrawal and I feel like I am getting crazy in here. Just staring at the same spot on my cell wall makes me furious. Day by day I lose a bit more of my connection I had with my victims and their bodies and it makes me sad and lonely. Yes, I feel lonely inside here. I can’t even remember every single woman I killed. Every day I try to fantasize about being with them having fun with them again but it’s not even close to the joy I felt in real. It just leaves me lonely. I don’t know how long I can live like that. I want to get out of here. I don’t want to die. I want to live and have my joy just like every other person out there. I never understood why everyone judge me for my satisfaction. There are a lot of sick people out there with much creepier desires but still I am the one who gets judge. My execution is set in three day so I have to do something and very quickly indeed.

Two days have passed. I am able to leave my cell to have an interesting conversation. I am in a state of mind where I would do almost everything to survive. So I scheduled an interview with an reporter about my murders. I am hopeful that I can change people’s minds about my execution with this interview. I am a master manipulator so I think I can handle it. Though I was very careful about choosing my interviewer. I considered my story to tell for a long time, what to say, what lies I would whisper into the world and hope the people out there would believe me. Lying awake all night I constructed my full on lie. Manipulation has always been one of my strengths, so why not use it to get out of here.

My interviewer is a very religious man and is strictly against pornography. So I considered to put the blame for my behaviour on pornography. Well, I guess pornography contributed a part of my desires but I would not totally blame it on pornography. I wouldn’t blame it on anything at all. It’s just the way I am. I am a heartless person, I don’t care about other people’s feelings and I never was interested in personal relationship. It just who I am. I am a man who loves to kill, what’s wrong about that? Many people even blamed my behaviour on the fact that I found out about my family. Yes, of course I was shocked when I found out about my sister being my mother in reality but it’s just how it was. I never really had a connection with my family. I was always the black sheep of the family, they just tried to cover it. I never fitted in, but I liked it that way. I liked to be on my own and I loved to observe others. Some people were just so transparent and it would have been easy to seduce them and kill later. I learned a lot over the years of my killing and from the years only observing people. I started small as every criminal but my body was always craving for more until I got where I was a few years ago before being arrested. I loved it to hurt other human beings. I liked the adrenaline it gave me. The joy was contagious and the satisfaction was one of kind. I tried to find others way to get the same satisfaction but there was nothing else. Well, I guess there’s no other satisfaction than killing someone. Some of my prison mates understand me. They have the same desire to kill like I have but they weren’t as professional as I was. I was to smart for the police to catch me. My years of highschool taught me a lot about personal relationships and studying helped me to cover my tracks. I was able to live my satisfaction for years without being noticed. But I did a small mistake by going into intimate relationships with women. I guess that’s a breaking point for me and part of why I got caught in the first place. If my ex-girlfriend wouldn’t have sold me to the police I still could be out there. Nevertheless it happened and I can’t change it. I can only focus on my interview ahead. My last chance of showing the world what a great person I am.

He was an easy bait. He sucked in every lie like it was the truth.  I did a great job but still my fate isn’t sealed. I am not sure if anyone else bought it. I am not sure if I portrayed a vulnerable human being who got depraved by pornography. It’s a masterpiece to put the blame away from me and put it onto something  controversial like pornography. Many crimes happened because of pornography so maybe it’ll work for me as well.  Now, I only have to wait and see how the world took in my act.

I am restless and can’t sleep. The fact about my acting – if the people believed the vulnerable and hurt Ted or not – is keeping my up all night. Pacing my cell back and forth I count the seconds, forcing the time to pass and the sun to rise. I don’t want to get executed even though many people out there wish for my death. But I don’t. I wan to live. The adrenaline keeps me in pace.

Finally the sun rises and I hear some guards heading my way. Lifting my head I stare at the iron bars waiting for them to arrive – hope fills my body.  The grim faces of the guards don’t discourage me because they’re always looking like that. The guards open the door and enter my cell.

“Bundy, time for you to go. Your execution awaits you!” One guard says while the other puts on some cuffs around my hands. The guards are talking but I don’t hear a word they’re saying because my world is falling apart. My last and most important act or manipulation went wrong. I am not a free man I am a doomed man who awaits his death in an electric chair. How could my manipulation have no effect on the judges and on the people out there? I thought I was convincing! The interviewer soaked my lies in like he needed them to live but obviously I wasn’t convincing enough for the people out there, for the doubtful people out there.

I have failed and I never fail. Maybe I am not the master manipulator I thought I was. I was questioning everything I ever did and where I did a mistake. What did I wrong? Where was my mistake? Panic starts to swallow me and I can’t think straight. My head is spinning around everything that happened in fast-forward. Until I stop at the interview over thinking where I could have been more convincing. But in fact I am just procrastinating the thought of dying because it scares the shit out of me and slowly I start to realize something pathetic. It’s ironic how afraid I am of dying but I could take lives so easily.

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