The Charismatic Killer | Teen Ink

The Charismatic Killer

February 4, 2014
By Anonymous

They woke me up earlier this morning. Well I’m assuming it’s morning. They don’t really give you any clear indication when you’re in solitary. They say I’m “unfit” to be around others and that I’m a “danger” to others and that’s why I’m in here. I don’t know, I guess since I am in here, they must be right. You know, it’s more like an opinion of the majority that runs this place, not real fact.

Anyway, the guards banged on my cell door with their steel batons that make them feel important. Their horrendous blue uniform was the first thing my eyes got to cast their site on. I quickly sat up and stretched, and winced; this mattress was definitely not made for sleeping in. I guess I wasn’t moving quick enough for them, so the stubby, angry looking one grabbed my collar,forced me to my feet and handcuffed me.
“Woah just take it easy. Can’t a man get a decent night sleep around here?” I said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood and possibly get a smile out of the guy but he just glared at me.
“Hurry it up, Dr. Lewis is waiting for you.”

Ah yes, yet another one of these shrinks. I personally think they don’t do anything. I mean all they do is come up here with their college education and think they can tell me more about myself after being with my after one fucking session than I do and I’ve lived in this body for thirty-four years. I think I have a fucking clue. On top of this, I’ve seen about four different shrinks since I was placed in this dump three months ago and they all come back the same, inconclusive. I just don’t see the point.

They two guards walked me down this long corridor and brought me to this room where the uncuffed me and then locked me in. I took a seat facing the glass window which everyone knows is a two-way mirror and waited. I leaned my forearms onto the cold steel table and tapped my fingers. These meetings are usually so monotonous and I really just want to get it over with. I waited for what seemed like fifteen minutes, when the doctor, I’m assuming Dr. Lewis walked in. She had her straight blonde hair in a low bun and her piercing blue eyes were hiding behind the frames of her glasses. She wore small back pumps, and her outfit was being covered by a white lab coat but I could tell she was wearing a skirt. Her small pink lips curled into a small, gentle smile as she introduced herself.
“Hello Mr. Bundy, my name is Dorothy Lewis. I’m going to be getting to know you over the next couple of days.”
I smiled. “Please, call me Ted.”
“Okay well Ted, you can call me Dorothy if you would like too. Maybe I should start off by telling you a little bit about myself. I graduated first in my class at John’s Hopkins University where I also received my masters and later my doctorate. I grew up in…”
You see what I mean? She says she’s going to tell me about herself and the first thing she comes up with are her educational accomplishments. I mean it’s like what does she want me to say “Oh you have a doctorate? Congrats on being fucked by the system. I hope it turns out well for you” I mean what does it say about a person if they try to tell you more about themselves and all they do is reference a piece of paper that has no bearing as to who they are as a person. If you ask me, me and Dr. Lewis need to be swapping places right now.
“Now that you know a little about me, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?” Dorothy asked politely
“Well what do you want to know?” I inquired.
“How about we start off from the beginning?”
“Beginning of my childhood?”
“No. The beginning of the abuse”

I was a bit taken aback by her confidence. Nobody had ever just come straight out and asked me about it. I liked her straightforwardness. I didn’t have any reserves about talking about it, so I wanted to be as honest and truthful as possible.
“Well, I was around eight years old when we were sitting on the couch watching my favorite TV show, The Twilight Zone. I had just got home from school and was having a really nice time hanging out with her, but I knew that this happiness would soon be short-lived because he would soon be home. I remember looking at the clock after every commercial break and I felt my anxiety increase with each duration of time. You would think that I would have thought to hide, but even at that age I knew it was hopeless. He would soon be home and he would find me.”
“Shortly after watching a second episode of The Twilight Zone, I heard the front door lock start to jingle and come alive. My heart was in my chest and I just sat frozen on the olive colored couch, intensely staring at the TV in front of me but paying close attention to the man coming through the door. Stumbling in, the smell of alcohol wreaked from his clothes. His boots slammed against the hard, wooden floor as he made his way to the coat closet. Phase one was almost complete.”
"WOMAN! WHERE ARE YOU?!" he shouted up the stairs
"I'm in the kitchen dear,just trying to get dinner started, no need to yell." she replied calmly
“I guess I was so focused on his movements that I didn't even realize that she had moved from her spot next to me on the couch to the kitchen. I listened closely as his steps slowly proceeded down the hallway to the kitchen. He grunted as a way of acknowledging her and I heard him open the refrigerator to get yet another beer despite the fact that he was drunk. I heard the click of the tab and the obnoxious swallowing as he chugged it down. My heart was pounding in my chest. I knew what was coming next. I always knew, and yet despite this knowledge my body always failed me. Phase three was coming and I could do nothing but wait.”
"What exactly do the phases mean, Ted?" Dorothy asked slowly.Ted just looked at her.
"When I was a kid, I separated the events into phases because it always happened the exact same way. It all happened at the same time, same place and same way. If I was in the wrong place he wold just come and take me back to the right place and pick up from there. I was eight there was no way I could defend myself, but even if I could I don't think I would have. I loved him, he raised me."
"How can you love someone who treated you this badly? Didn't you know that this was a very destructive household."
"Well I'm sure you know by now that I didn't have the same upbringing as other people, so I don't really see it as as a destructive relationship. It was more of a 'I'll take what I can get'. He was the only father figure I had, so I took what I could get."
"That explains why you tolerated him, but why do you love him."
I paused before answering. "He taught me control."
"How did he do that?" Dorothy asked.
"I'll finish the story and then you'll figure it out" I replied simply and continued on with my story
“I remember how he would enter the small living room where I was sitting looking at the TV but not paying much attention to it. He just stared at me for a couple of minutes and slowly started to make his way towards where I was sitting on the couch. I started to sink more and more into the back of the couch until the resistance on my back was too much to handle and I had to give in a little. He stood right in front of the view of the TV, but I wouldn't dare look into his eyes, he didn't like that. I saw him crack a smile out of my peripheral vision.”
"How are you doing bud." he asked
I waited a couple of seconds before answering. Even though I knew it was a question, if he wanted to say more, I wouldn't dare interrupt him.
"I'm fine sir" I replied quietly
"Speak up when you're talking to me boy these ears aren't like how they used to be." he laughed at his own joke, took the remote, and changed the channel to football.
"Eleanor bring me my dinner." he screamed a couple minutes after the first quarter began
I listened to her footsteps as she made her way from the kitchen to the living room. In the half an hour she was in there, her hair was put up into a ponytail, her apron was riddled with stains, and her face glistened with sweat
"Honey, it will take a little bit longer. I messed up the chicken so now I have to start over I'm sorry
"What the hell do you mean it's not ready? You know how hard I work everyday to put clothes on your back and food on that goddamn tables and now you're telling me that's not going to happen?" His voice was rising with each word and at this point he was right in her face.
"NO! I'm just saying it will be another thirty minutes I'm sor-" That was all she could get out before he slapped her across the face.
She stumbled back and looked at him with tears in her eyes. I hadn't realized I had jumped up from the couch until he turned around to glare at me.
"What the f*** are you going to do about it? Oh what all of a sudden you're big and bad now?" He shouted at me.
"What no I, I jus-" I stumbled out but he slapped me before I could finish my unnecessary excuse. I fell to the ground with a thud and he walked over to me and picked me up. He put his hands around my neck and pushed me up against the wall. I couldn' breathe.
"Now look here, why do you always have to do things I tell you not to. I tell you time and time again to not get into our business and what do you do? GET INTO OUR BUSINESS! So damn nosey!" he shouted in my face.
He was choking me so hard that I couldn't even smell the alcohol now embedded in his skin. I could feel myself slowly starting to slip away. I was completely helpless. He had complete control over me.
“I'm very sorry to hear that Ted." Dorothy says solemnly
"What good will that do, someone should have been sorry when it happened in the first place." I reply
"So you blame the world because someone didn't help you in your time of need?" Dorothy asks
"No, I blame the world for making me believe it's delusions." I snap back at her
"Let's talk about how you felt when you were being abused by your grandfather." Dorothy stated
"Well what would anyone feel in that sort of situation. I think it's pretty self-explanatory."
"I would much rather hear about how you felt specifically. Were you sad?"
"I guess."
"Did you feel angry?"
"Not really."
"What about helpless?"

I said no but I paused, and I knew she took note of it. No matter what I would have said to the contrary I knew that she knew that I was lying.
“What about your mother?” Dorothy asks.
“What about her?”
“Ted, look we are not going to get anywhere if all you are going to do is ask a question every time I ask you one.” Dorothy explains
“But I’m only asking question to clarify what your are asking.” I tried to reason with her.
“No, you’re only asking me questions to clarify what you think I want to hear. I need you to understand that I don’t expect anything from you. I just want you to be honest so that I can help you.”
“I’m already on death row, what kind of help could you give me?”
“Peace of mind is a great thing, Ted you just have to be honest with me.” Dorothy says to me softly
“Didn’t you just hear about my childhood. When the f*** did I ever have peace of mind? I’m fucked up and always will be until they stick me with that needle.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next couple of weeks, I have met up with Dorothy everyday for at least two hours. I told her about how school was for me ad how I was the most popular kid. I also told her how my smarts were also envied by most in my school. I told her about my whore of a mother and how she had me out of wedlock. I also explained how because my mom was so ashamed of what she did, she moved in with my grandparents and I grew up think that my grandparents were my parents and that she was my sister. I mean how fucked up is that? Anyway, I found this out when I was 18 and I wanted to figure out who my real father was. I went to the hospital to get a copy of my birth certificate and wouldn’t you know that little b****’s name was on it. I couldn’t believe the lies that were told in that house. When I told Dorothy all of this, she told me that this is probably the “straw that broke the camel’s back” and at first I was skeptical. But now that I think about it, she might be right. I fucking hate my mom and anyone who reminds me of her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Okay so today, you promised to tell me about your first.” Dorothy started what seemed to be our millionth meeting.
“Okay, well where should I start?” I knew she hated when I asked questions but I also knew that by this time she was used to it.
“Well what did she look like?”
“She has long flowing brown hair. It was really shiny too, like how my mother’s hair looked when the sun hit it. I guess that was the first thing I noticed about her. She had big brown eyes and clear porcelain skin. The kind of skin that looked as though she completely skipped the whole part of puberty where you’re supposed to get pimples. Needless to say her face was flawless. She was probably about 5’1’’ and had a very petite build. Her fingers were very dainty and had just been manicured to perfection.” I explained straight from memory
“Is it right to assume that you were attracted to her?” Dorothy asked me.
“I wouldn’t necessarily say that. She was gorgeous, but I felt no attachment to her.”
“Okay well where did you first see her?”
“It was around 8 o’clock at night, I was walking back to my dorm room from a friends room. I didn’t take my car since he lived so class to me, but I saw her walking down the steps in front of the campus library. Like I said her flowing hair was the first thing I noticed.”
“Even in the night you could see it?” Dorothy asked
“Well it’s not like at night I’m blind.” I retorted
“Just tell me what you did next.”
“ I walked up to her on the steps and asked her if she could help me. I faked a limp so she could see that I was impaired. I told her that I drop my care keys under my car and that my injury wouldn’t let me bend down that far. At first she was very apprehensive but once she saw my limp, her eyes softened and she agreed. On the walk over to the parking lot I found out her name was Carolyn. I walked over to some random car in the parking lot and told her the keys were under it. She got down on all four and reached her left arm underneath the car to she if she could feel the key. I then kicked her in the face and she immediately was out. I didn’t know what had come over me, it was as if I was on autopilot but all I knew was that I felt in control. I quickly looked around to make sure no one was looking and picked up her body. I carried her all the way in front of my dorm where my car was parked. I placed her in the backseat and got in the drivers side and started to drive. I must have driven about forty miles outside of the city before I stopped on a desolate rode. By this time it was about 9:30 and the sky was blending into the ground. I bound her hands and feet before I started to move her out of the car. She started to stir and when she realized what was happening she started thrashing violently and yelling and shouting all kinds of names at me. I could feel myself losing control and it was pissing me off! I just need her to shut up but she wouldn’t listen. I slapped her across the face and put both of my hands around her throat and squeezed as hard as I could. I squeezed so hard she couldn’t even close her eyes and I didn’t want her to. I wanted her to see what she made me do and I wanted to be the one to see life finally leave her pretty little face. After a couple of minutes her body finally stopped moving. I dragged her lifeless body out of the car and laid it down on the grass. I went to my trunk and got a saw and then knelt down next to her body. I started with her hands then moved to her arms, then her head, feet, legs, and I cut her torso in half. As I made my way back into the city I dropped various parts of her body in trashcans, and some I even threw out of the car window. When everything was gone, I got back to my dorm at around 11. I took a shower and then went to bed.”
“Well that was definitely quite the story.” Dorothy said after a while.
“This wasn’t a story this was my life.”
“And apparently the end of hers. Do you feel bad that you killed her?”
“Why would I feel bad for killing her? Her eyes radiated vulnerability. Her facial expression said ‘I am afraid of you’ By expecting to be hurt, did she not encourage it?” I asked.
Dorothy paused and I could tell that she was thinking about my question. The look on her face screamed confusion but I could see that she understood a part of what I was saying. I knew that it was the question that was confusing her but the moral conflict within her that caught her off guard. She knew that what I said had made some sense to her, but by agreeing she would be just like me. But if she disagreed she would be lying, and me and her would both know that. The point is, I have known her agenda since the first day I met her. She was just like every other shrink. All they wanted to do was talk, listen, diagnose, and treat me for some mental condition so that I could go before a court and tell them how much I have changed and how bad I feel about what I have done. But none of them understand that I don’t feel bad about it and I never will. I wasn’t controlled by anything in my mind. I didn’t have voices in my head telling me to stop. I was very much level headed and that’s why I continued to do what I did to Carolyn to thirty more girls. I knew what I was doing and I would have never stopped.


The author's comments:
I did research on Ted Bundy and I found his particular case very interesting. I tried to capture what it would be like to be Ted and talk with a psychiatrist before being sentenced to death.

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