Philip Carlo

“Wake up, bitch! And don’t scream, or I’ll kill you. Don’t make a fucking sound!”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll leave,” he told her, and laughed.

“The look in his eyes was absolutely demonic. Never had I seen eyes like his on a human being,” she’d later tell police.

Dedicated to all who have lost their lives
at the hands of serial murderers.

Swear on Satan you won’t scream.
The Night Stalker

Those who are unhappy
clutch at shadows, and to
give themselves an enjoyment
that truth refuses them, they
artfully bring into being all
sorts of illusions.
The Marquis de Sade
Crimes of Love

It was from this place that he came, nameless and nocturnal, as silent and deadly as cyanide gas. He always wore black, with the brim of a black baseball cap pulled down low; even his socks and shoes were black. Thus attired, he moved about in shadows, blending and becoming one with them, rarely seen until it was too late.

hus attired, he moved about in shadows, blending and becoming one with them, rarely seen until it was too late.

Tonight, the man in black was driving a stolen dark-blue Toyota.

The Huntington, Cecil, Rosslyn, Ford, and Frontier were some of the places he’d go and binge on cocaine for several days straight, not eating or sleeping, answerable only to his addiction and the hot winds of his psychosis.