Ever since the Great War, I fled to a country of ‘freedom’. I managed to stay hidden in the large wood areas to kill and feed on campers. The thirst for blood soon started to poison my mind even more than before, I started to zone in on areas more civilized.
It was the 1960’s, Northern California, I bought a gun and not quite sure what the reason was for. I am a creature of death and destruction, but I didn’t want to be found out so I went down the safest path possible. Too impose as a human being.
I found a paper bag and a pair of sunglasses to hide the fact that I indeed wasn’t human. I drew a crosshair on the dark blue windbreaker I wore through all my kills. This was exciting, more than the time I was Jack the ripper. It tickled something deep down inside me, but I chose to ignore it and I still do.
The first victims of my macabre murders were two teenagers, a girl and a boy. The first one to go was the boy; I trusted the gun at the boys head and pulled the trigger without a single sign of hesitation. The girl screamed and ran out of the car. She managed to run several feet from the car before I shot her five times in the back.
I do not remember the other victims, as my mind became fuzzier after each and every kill. Some bodies weren’t found, some were, and some humans were suspected for the macabre I made.
I do not regret those killings, but I’m not satisfied either.
Humans called me the Zodiac Killer, which I didn’t quite get.