Interview Of A Serial Killer

Interview with a Serial Killer 2008 TEEN 44m Biographical Documentaries In this jailhouse interview, Arthur Shawcross, the Genesee River Killer, shares candid details of his crimes and his surprising family bonds. Serial killer interviews capture the fascinating facades various psychopaths and murderers try to present to the public when attempting to rationalize their actions. This list of interviews with serial killers contains mention some of the most sick and twisted acts imaginable, as described.

Interview Of A Serial Killer Season

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Looking down the long, dimly lit hall, I wanted to turn around and run. I don’t belong here; this is a place for criminals, for people with no morals I thought to myself. As I heard the metal door clang shut behind me, I shuddered. I’d be out in a few hours, it was just a visit - all things I told myself as I followed the guard in front of me. I could hear the jeers and catcalls of the prisoners as I passed their barred windows, and immediately wished I’d worn anything but the pencil skirt and blazer I was in at that moment. I had forgotten I was going to be surrounded by animals.

We made our way down the hallway to another thick, steel door at the other end. The guard pressed his badge to a scanner next to the door, entered a code into a keypad, and i heard the lock click open. He turned and gestures for me to enter, and after a moment of hesitation I did. I stepped forward cautiously, and found myself in the most stereotypical interrogation room I had ever seen - minus the two-way mirror, for reasons I could only imagine. The walls were solid,cold concrete, and a fluorescent ceiling light flickered just enough to irritate me. It wasn’t the room that demanded my attention though, it was the man chained to the table in the middle.

I was face to face with Barton Shephard, the most prolific serial killer of the century. With over 50 confirmed murders, he put the zodiac to shame. His trial had been all over the news, and despite his protests of innocence, he was sentenced to death about 10 years ago. Now, his time was nearly up. Through my dedication and knowledge of his case I was able to work my way into this interview - I’m the journalist who had been covering his case from the start. Foul play wasn’t even suspected in his first kill, but I knew better. I had a nose for this stuff, and investigated it myself. Sure enough, another woman turned up dead a week later, and eventually it became the stuff of nightmares for our county.

For eight months he went around without being caught, killing women he met on dating sites - specifically married women - classic, right? It amazed me it took so long for law enforcement to connect the dots, but I guess in the age of endless likes combined with the fact that these women tried to hide their profiles from their husbands led to a web that was more difficult to untangle. Eventually they connected the dots, traced accounts and tracked phones - with his knowledge of technology it took some time and manpower, but they got him. I was lucky enough to be involved in this process, but due to privacy reasons and unfortunate NDA’s I had to sign to get this interview, I can’t say just how they did it. I think it’s more so that I don’t tell people how incompetent they were and how they should have caught him sooner, but I’m not at liberty to say.

I walk across the room, heels clicking on the cold floor and pull out the chair hearing the nasty metallic screech as the legs moved across the concrete. As I sat down, I caught Shephard looking at me. It wasn’t a bloodthirsty look, wasn’t even haunting - it was sad, a look full of despair. I had been searching for my opening line since I scheduled this interview, but it all had escaped me when I saw his face. I was thrown off guard, expecting to see a monster. Rather, I saw a man, a human. Someone who easily could be my brother, my friend, anyone’s coworker. He was too normal, and that’s what scared me the most.

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It took me a minute to gather my thoughts, and without much thought I let loose something I had determined should not be my first question: “so, 50 kills in 8 months - that has got to be some kind of record” in reply, he just looked up at me.

“Yes” he said “it’s almost impossible. In fact, I’d say it is impossible”

“So, how’d you do it then? Such an achievement must have a mastermind behind it” I antagonized. This was my tactic, get him to explode.

“I can’t tell you - I didn’t do it”

Ugh. I had forgotten he had tried to claim innocence. “Listen asshole, I’m not here for bullshit. You’re lucky enough to be out of your cell, and once I’m done with you you’re going right back, so appease me here. Give me what you want and we can chat for a while. The elder scrolls online free. Push me away and back to the hole you go”

He sat there, crossed his arms and pulled his lips in, showing me he wasn’t going to talk. What a waste of time. I looked over at the guard who gestures towards the door, asking me if I wanted to go. As I was about to walk out, an alarm went off. Without a thought he swiped his badge, pressed the button, and ran out, leaving me in a locked room with no doorknob with this freak.

Interview With A Serial Killer Engine Shed

All was going exactly as planned.

I looked at Shephard, and saw the fear in his eyes. He had no idea what was going on, and I knew he was afraid. He turned back to me, and said “look, I don’t want to hurt you. If something is wrong we have to get out of here. These guys, they don’t mess around. If someone escaped or something, we’re fucked. They all saw you come in, they know you’re here and you’ll be a target. Call the guard, get him to get you out of here. If he doesn’t come, you’ll have to let me out. I can protect you - I never killed those women and I won’t kill you. They’ll blame your death one me and I’ll be fucked if I die with another false accusation on my record”

Stunned, I looked at him. He looked sincere, his eyes wide and panicked, begging me to believe him. I had him right where I wanted him. “Sorry, I’m not falling for that. Sit down, I want to talk to you. As a matter of fact, I believe that you’re innocent but in no way will I let you go. Instead, I’m gonna tell you a story. It’s one I’m sure you’ll wanna hear” I said with a smirk. Confused, he stared back at me with a look that told me to go on.

“I know you never had an online dating profile” I began. “In fact, you barely had any online presence, which is what made you so perfect. You see, I needed a patsy. Someone who would not have many pictures online so people couldn’t look you up. I had enough photos of you from what your volunteer network had shared on their page - group photos, pictures of you smiling while building homes for the poor - it was too good. And so came to be Barton Shephard. Your real name of course, you had to be real. I made your profile and Barton met Sandra. At first she was nice, but I knew she was cheering. You see, she was my friend. She had told me about how she wanted to leave her husband, of all the nights away she spent with her boss, and it disgusted me. Her husband deserved better, but I couldn’t break his heart by telling him his wife was a cheater. No, she’d just tell him I was a liar and then I’d lose him. Instead, I decided she would have to go. In his time of mourning, I would swoop in and comfort him - she was such a good woman, I’m so sorry she’s gone - all that bullshit. So, she set up a date with Barton and she met me there instead. I pretended to have been at that coffee shop by coincidence, and when Barton stood her up I asked her to join me on my hike. You know the rest - the bloody rock, body in the river. It was all supposed to stop there. But when I saw the look in her eyes, the fear, and felt the power of having her life in my hands, I knew I couldn’t stop.”

I paused, taking in his expression of confusion and shock. Then I went on, “I went home and thought about all the other women like Sandra sneaking around behind their husbands’ backs. It’s not just the men that cheat, Barton. Women can be liars, and quite good ones at that. And this began my journey - each woman I found with a streak of infidelity became my new target. I was overwhelmed - I was saving these men and their families from the heartache of learning their wife didn’t love them. I allowed them to be eased of their spouse while being able to collect on life insurance and not have a divorce on their records. I allowed them to gain attention and sympathy. And these women, I sent them to God to be judged. Allie, Maxine, Cassandra - I’m sure they all haunt you - the names that will kill you.”

“YOU’RE SICK!” He screamed. Then he started screaming for the guard, and said “I’m sure there’s cameras in here, mics, something that will prove me innocent. You fuck, you ruined my life.”

“Shhhhhh” I said “no one can hear you, and no one can hear this conversation. Part of my interview terms states that this conversation will not be recorded for privacy and exclusivity reasons. And, you interrupted me. Please, let me finish. See, I started writing articles about you, me, whoever you want to call this killer. I had to sensationalize it, had to create that fear. I had hoped that cheating women would stop, but they didn’t. So, I had to keep going - it was my civic duty. I took your IP, and manipulated the signals - all stuff you wouldn’t understand, I know. Pretty soon everything traced back to you, I just had to wait until you got caught. But damn, these police suck. It took them way too long - I even killed several times a week in hopes to help them, but it took so long. My articles and efforts did little good, but finally they caught on - when I gave them a list of suspects that included your name. Eventually they found you, found the data I had planted, and made their arrests. You know the rest - the trial, the hatred, and the fact that you had no way out. All evidence pointed to you.”

He was sobbing at this point, couldn’t even look at me. I grabbed his hands and yanked them away from his face. I whipped his chin up and forced him to look at me. “I had to tell you before you died, you see. I can’t have this on my conscience forever. I’ve got to move on, and so do these families. Your death will provide closure for all. You should be happy to die, you’re doing your duty, serving your role in God’s greater plan. And for that I thank you.”

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With that I got up, pressed the button to summon the guard. He was there in a minute, apologizing for having left me, telling me it was a false alarm. I reassured him that it was fine, but was interrupted by Shephard yelling “guard it was her, she did it not me! I’m fucking innocent and that bitch framed me!”

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I looked at the guard, who had a brooding look for a moment. Worriedly, I felt my hands start to sweat; did he actually believe him?

Then, to my relief he guffawed loudly and ushered me out of the room, laughing and apologizing to me. I assured him it was alright, and we laughed as we walked down that hall at how absurd it all was. After getting my purse back and being shown out the door, I breathed in the warm summer evening air, and chuckled to myself at how stupid they were to let the serial killer loose.

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