My Little Tree

Hi my name is Jason, and I'm sixteen  years old. Of course this isn't much of an introduction to my life, but my story, or at least the incident that has occurred, will paint a better picture of who I am.

Right now I'm in a closet on the bottom floor of the hotel my parents are staying in. Why you may ask? None other than protection. Protection from curiosity, protection from uncertainty, protection from insanity.  You see I come from a family of- well my lineage has a rather interesting past. 

It all started with a man named Gilles de Rais. You might not know much about him I mean who would; a French nobleman responsible as the precursor for modern serial killers isn't the most appropriate way to introduce your family tree. 

Nonetheless the things this guy did would shock even the most professionally stabled psychiatrist. He was accused and ultimately convicted of torturing, raping and murdering dozens, if not hundreds, of young children, mainly boys. Let me say it again, "young children, mainly boys!" Like me! According to this book I found in my father's closet he was my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grand uncle. Now what he would do is lure children, mainly young boys who were blond haired and blue eyed (as he had been as a child), to his residences, and raped, tortured and mutilated them, often ejaculating, perhaps via masturbation, over the dying victim. He and his accomplices would then set up the severed heads of the children in order to judge which was the most fair. The precise number of Rais’s victims is not known, as most of the bodies were burned or buried. The number of murders is generally placed between 80 and 200! Creepy right? I thought that as well until I flipped the page over and the more I read the more disturbed I became. 

Joachim Kroll I still have a hard time with that name, we'll just call him "The Ruhr Killer" like everyone else has. It seemed to be an older cousin from my mother's side. Any who this is the first cannibal listed in this book (hopefully the last), but regardless of that, Joachim Kroll from Germany, Hey! I always knew I had a bit of German in me; what a momentously sad moment to discover it in this fashion. Anyways, he was a man suffering from mental retardation who was able to evade police discovery for nearly twenty one years! (the cops must REALLY suck at their job). I mean the guy had limited vocabulary, difficulty answering questions, preferred young children as friends, (that should've fired so many red flags), he acted impulsively, he was incapable of understanding consequences, and had limited ability of recalling any events that might have taken place. Joachim was found not because of excellent detective work, (seriously excellent?) but because he had stuffed up the toilet drains with body parts. The internal organs of a child were found in the toilet, and the police and plumber took out each organ and placed it in a bucket. A young girl, Marion Ketter had been missing for several days and the police soon realized what was disregarded in the toilet was (you guessed it) the remains of Marion Ketter.

Now if that doesn't scare you from using the bathroom toilet I don't know what will, but the list just went on and on with people like Ed Kemper (my great uncle), Christopher Wilder (my 2nd cousin), Nanny Doss (my grandma), John Wayne Gacy, What the! That's the clown guy my parents called to perform for my birthday every year. I always wondered why he never did my last two birthdays, then again the last time he was invited two squad cars rushed in. Hm, George Leon Ridgeway (my father's uncle) and Jeffery Dahm-... Wait- Jeffery Dah- what is uncle Jeff doing in here? This is kind of a shocker for me only because Mom and Dad always took me to his apartment on the weekends. Let me tell you guys uncle Jeff was a pretty fun uncle he would have a bunch of insects, and he'd show me how to dissect them, and sometimes he would have some random kid in his apartment, usually very hyperactive, or very sluggish. I would get so bored at times I'd try and play with them, but the look in their eyes always gave off this caged animal look like they wanted to bust out the door or window as fast as they could. Weird right? However, our contact would be very brief because uncle Jeff would take the boys he had in his apartment carry them into his room, sometimes dragging them. He called it his "play time" which was pretty dumb since he only played with them and I never got to. Now I'm starting to realize he meant "play" in a different sense of the word. One day these guys in a uniform found him in his apartment and that's when the whole world started talking about him, sometimes with heavy emotions. That was the first time I've seen my uncle so famous. You could say I was very proud at the time. (Then again I was only 6). 

Wow, so my uncle was one of them all along, I shook my head in disappointment as I flipped from page to page morbidity started to creep in, my fingers felt like they were strings hanging from them. I couldn't leave this book alone. It's like I had to see my family's history for myself. This would prove hopelessness as I came across the last few pages my eyes widened and my pupils focused on the name that was written on the page. My hands began to shake and sweat trickled down from my face. Now this wasn't ordinary sweat, this was adrenaline I began producing odor that filled up the entire closet space within seconds. I couldn't even say the name, but I couldn't look away. T-T-T-T-Ted B-B-B-B-Bundy, I shuttered. This was devastating! My all time favorite uncle and my father's brother. This was the man who taught me about confidence and how to survive in a room full of vultures. I was a bit scared of learning what his history was like, but I felt compelled to know about his true life so I did what any avid reader would do, start at a spot and read on. Ted Bundy, murderer of over 30 young women and girls in seven states from 1974-1978. (Whew! That was a relief) 

Ironic how he always told me to be good to the ladies. "Handsome Bundy" (mom did always say I had a striking resemblance of his good looks) he would trick his 'victims' by pretending to be injured and requesting help—and later attacked them viciously. After killing the women, he often had sex with their cor- vomit started spewing out of my mouth as the thought of necrophilia took over my mind. But this was something I had to deal with so I kept reading, he kept their severed heads as mementos. Bundy escaped from jail twice but was finally recaptured in Florida in 1978. He received three death sentences in two separate trials for his Florida murders and died in the electric chair in 1989.

Awestruck... I was just completely dumbfounded by all of this. Tears flowed down the sides of my reddish cheeks, of course I didn't have much to say, but there was two pages left and I thought there would be nothing that could surprise me. If I could have a choice I wouldn't look, but curiosity was sucking me in. With a few slow breathes I shut my eyes and flicked my wrist to the finally two pages. It was...it was my parents all calm, and relaxed taking a photo together. My eyes turned from them and fixed on the title "The Cannibal Couple" it said and my heart just dropped immediately. My temple slowly started to throb and pound back and forth as I tried to comprehend what that meant. 

The Cannibal Couple was a duo consisting of a middle aged man and his wife who drove throughout the United States committing heinous crimes from California to Minnesota. The means of their actions was a complete set-up, Laura (my mother) would- that's when I heard footsteps enter the room. I quickly ducked my head and peeped my eyes to the bottom of the door. I saw four legs covered knee high in blood as they walked in two more legs (these were more slouched over like they were being dragged forward) slid through into the room. They seem to be the body of an elderly man because a walking cane wrist tie hung from his side. My eyes started to tingle as the liquid quickly drew out from them forcefully stopping myself to blink. 

I stared. 

The body dropped on the floor looking at the ceiling above spewing blood from his mouth. He began to tilt his head, his eyes delaying just a few milliseconds behind. My heart felt a jump as the old man's eyes fixed towards mine from the bottom of the door. He wasn't looking anywhere else, his bloodshot eyes just focused on mine. For minutes he did this until a jolt went through his body and my eyes looked to the right. A large, sharpened steel axe went straight through his chest with great force causing blood to flow in every direction.

I think a couple drops landed right at the foot of the door right in front of me. I was distracted, but only for a moment and within that moment feet stood next to the door. Blood covered shoes, so much so you couldn't even recognize the brand or style of the shoes. I suddenly heard the doorknob shake as it was forcefully being pushed and pulled with a jerking movement. I tried to stay still but, the door hinge cracked from the force and it slowly began to open up. Light began to fill the closet as I tried to hide from it. Then I was...

To be continued...