One day I came home from school and had this history project to do. Mom again was at work and I decided to go out to the thorn thicket bush and tear out some branches. As I was sitting on the front deck he came over asking me what I was doing. I explained to him that I was making the thorn crown that Jesus wore during his crucifixion. The old man laughed at me, clearly drunk off his rocker and said,
"Boy such things are nonsense, there was no Jesus and even if there were, he would not even think twice about a little piss ant like you.”
Then he would smack me across the side of head and undo his belt saying,
"Boy there is only one type of god authority around here and don't you ever forget it."
He lashed on me until the blood literally soaked through my shirt, only then is when he finally let go. I sat there squinting through a cut above my eye. I was butchered, beaten and broken, but not just physically. I always wondered why he detested me so much. Why he wanted to take that anger out on me so badly? That day that darkness and that emptiness that I felt inside, just never went away. In the end I never was the same. I don't know if it was the fact he referred himself as god, or the irony he whipped me while I was making a thorn crown? Maybe it was that my mother seemed to ignore it all and left us but I ran. I ran deep into the woods until I could not breathe and my legs were burning. When I finally stopped running I realized the rage inside never subsided like it used to. It seemed that every time I ran the rage would go away, but this time it was as if everything just happened a moment ago and I was destined to become what I became. I heard something and I knew I was never going to come back."
Jonathon sat in awe as he watched Steven Willis. Here was this serial killer talking about such a traumatized child hood experience. Yet he seemed unemotional, unmoved by what he was saying. He was so statuesque in the full resemblance of this gruesome story that he did not even seem to blink, just staring back at Jon with a blank look in his eyes, trapped in another time. Jon nodded and said,
"What did you do then Steven?"
"I heard a dog barking from a nearby neighbor’s house and it wouldn't shut up. I approached the beast, weaving my way through the foliage as I crept behind this large shed. There it was, this German Sheppard. Barking, its tail stuck straight out with its fur standing on end. I spotted inside the shed this hatchet hanging on the wall. I snatched the small axe with my heart beating fast. It felt like it was pumping in my eardrums, pulsating violently as I stared at that barking dog for quite some time. I decided to walk back into the forest. The dog was still barking at me intensely as I made my way back over my freshly beaten path then the inner darkness took over once again. I tried coaxing the dog on my hands and knees but the mutt seemed to recognize my intentions, smelling what was wrong inside of me, just like the children at school.
I raised the hatchet into the air and came down with a forceful smash across the skull of the animal. The dog instantly yelped in a sudden sharp twitch of pain as it hit the forest ground. I walked around the dog astounded by the force of what I had just done. I then leaned in and slapped the blade into the dog’s sternum as the blood started seeping outward into the fur pelt. I was so calm, but yet felt so alive at the same time.
I moved quickly around the underbelly and sliced upward. The warm red liquid sloshed over my hands and I could feel the heat coming from its underbelly, still pumping as the animal yelped in even more pain. I stared into its eyes as it slowly bled to death. Its eyes lost that light they had in them, and then it was gone. Those eyes I will always remember. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul.”
As Steven Willis raised his hands, his shackles clanked against the table. He continued,
“With these hands I snuffed that light out. This sudden peace came over me and I realized that I had discovered something very few humans ever feel. There was no more pain, there was no more suffering. In fact I now knew why my father did what he did. This sense of power enthralled my entire being of self-worth and I realized this is who I was.
Day in and day out the killings of other animals would become more brutal, more obscene and my obsessed type of nature would take over. I would even go as far as finding road kill on the side of the road and open them up. Even though most of the time their bodies had this become rotten. I can still smell the stench as the meat had already started to decay with the sight of green replacing the red. I was so interested in what their insides looked like and fantasized about the last moments of their lifeless eyes. I would take my collection back to my fathers shed and hide them under the floor boards. Even my first kill, the dog that I butchered was under there. From time to time when I had the urge, I would creep out of my window and out into my back yard. As quietly as possible, I would open up the shed doors, pull apart the floor boards and just stare at the remains.
I kept this going for a number of weeks. I would come home around dusk and of course the old drunk was passed out downstairs on the couch. No one had even realized I was gone. I would climb the stair case, change my clothes as quickly as possible, and then slip under my bed sheets.
It's an odd thing when your subconscious goes into the deepest darkest corners of your mind. In my dreams it was dark, nightfall. I could feel my body was being pulled towards the shed and the doors would open up to reveal my little closet of horrors. All of the animals that I have killed or desecrated were dangling on meat hooks from the rafters, swaying back and forth. Blood would be smeared all over the walls, little pools of the dark red liquid pooled upon the floor. Their eyes would flutter open staring at me and simultaneously move about with the chains rattling back and forth. I would wake up in a pool of sweat scared. Not scared of what I dreamt or what I have done. I was scared because of how much I liked it. The calmness that it bestowed upon me was far greater then I could ever explain. I wanted more; no I needed more. I wanted to go into the taboo of the things that we don't speak of, the things that we dare not talk about. I wanted to feel what few have ever explored.”
Jonathon was in deep thought for a moment. His mind envisioning what Steven had gone through. What he had felt. What he had done. He had to ask the inevitable question and asked,
"This taboo is taking a human life? What makes your mind any different than any other killer out there that has done this?"
Steven looked up with a sincere childlike face, confused and startled by the question. He replied,
"The difference is that I discovered something unique. The first steps before a larva becomes a butterfly. The power of change is inevitable and those animals were the beginning of my origins. That is not only a journey into the mind or the soul, but the start of an evolutionary process. I became so much more that I began to learn what the primal essence of anger that has been suppressed by society. We are taught that it is such a horrible thing, that we forget that we are just mere animals. This whole bullshit upbringing of a conscience is just a way to undermine of what we truly are and capable of. We may be able to mask it, hide it but deep down we all have it, we all crave it. I'm just one of the few who chose to embrace it. In certain tribes it is a custom to beat on a man with sticks until he fights back and literally has to kill the provoker, if he does not then he is not considered a man and is cast away. Now you take that same custom and put it into our world standards. If that man does the same thing he is considered barbaric, a murderer. Is that right? Who are we to judge what is right and what is wrong? Just because our conscience tells us to do so? Tsk, tsk, tsk, no, no, no, no, no, that is only what you are lead to believe Jonny boy. Look beyond what books you have read, what you were taught by your parents, your coworkers, your friends, your schooling. Just think about the profession you have chosen. Why you do what you do? You know why we think the way that we do? You didn't learn that from some psychology book, or some sociology course. Even the profiling of murders you have seen wasn't from experience. You caught those so called "monsters" because you can think like a monster. You can feel like one, you can understand the impulses and th
e cravings. Why can't you accept that is who you are my dear Jonny boy? Does that scare you? Or are you still in denial?”
"You don't know shit."
"You're the one sitting here all high and mighty on the high horse looking down on me. When in fact the problem is you can't open up your eyes. You think that you’re better than me? I am more powerful then you can ever imagine. Remember I want to be here. You think that you have me in these shackles against my own will? This is just the beginning Jonny Boy, there is so much more that you need to learn; and today is the day you will reveal your true self. I am giving you the greatest piece of the puzzle that has kept you up all those late nights."
"How do you know so much about me?"
"All in due time Detective Cratick, all in due time. Now where were we? Ah yes the first kill.”
Chapter 4
“I was fourteen years old now. The autumn leaves were just changing that early September. I was going through the woods, going through changes myself. That morning I saw this woman running down the dirt road. She was blonde, slender a pretty girl in her teens."
Jon's eyes fixated on the tape as he said,
"Emily Clarke"
Steven Willis continued,
"I was fascinated by the way she looked, the way she moved. But oddly enough I was more interested what she would look like on the inside. Would it be the same as a dog? Would her eyes be the same if I shoved that blade into her spleen or would it be that much more extraordinary? I had to know. I needed to know. I noted the time on my watch and just stared as she jogged past me. The next morning I crept along the side of the ditch at precisely 7:18 am. Sure enough by 7:20 am she came jogging by with the head phones on. It somewhat excited me watching her as she jogged by not knowing I was there. It was as if she was in my world in my realm. I restricted the thought of touching her. I wanted to wait, wanted to savor the moment. So every morning I would go back to the same spot and exuberate my fantasies. I learned how to demonstrate patience. Sometimes I would even relieve myself as she came around the corner of the road; just thinking about it now makes me feel all primal."
Jon squirmed in his seat as he listened to Steven and felt this sudden urge to vomit. His ability to become truly empathetic started taking its toll. This guy truly was sick, but that's what he was there for; to look through the eyes of Steven Willis. Steven continued saying,
"I couldn't take it after four days of doing this routine. I had to know. I grabbed my hatchet and waited patiently like I did every other morning. However this time when she went jogging by, I ran behind her with a rock and smashed her over the back of the head. She hit the ground face first and twitched for a moment in convulsions before she stopped moving completely. I quickly kneeled down to check her pulse. She was still alive, stunned, knocked out, but alive. I quickly dragged her body off of the road and into the side of the woods. I laid down beside her. Everything seemed to slow down for a moment. The world seemed to stop moving and for what seemed like a long time her steady breathing took place of my own. I could see her chest rising up and down and it gave me this moment of peace and serenity. That only lasted for a moment until it was shattered by this absurd screaming.
Yes she was awake and quite frightened. I instantly got to my feet and tried to suppress her back to the ground asking her to calm down. She was squirming, frightened, scared and with one quick motion took her knee right into my groan. I hit the ground gripping my sack with the feeling of wanting to hurl as she got to her feet and began to move towards the road. I knew I only had a minute to get to her before she was fully conscious again. If someone found her I knew I would be done for. Even though my balls were in my stomach, I managed to reach for my hatchet and stumbled after her. With a roaring downward stroke I penetrated her skull.
The sickening crack filled the air and the screaming stopped. As her body toppled into the side of the ditch, I slid down the side of the bank, staring into her eyes. It was like nothing I have ever seen. They were so big, so scared looking as if they were captured in time. She was twitching, gagging trying to speak but nothing was coming out of her mouth.
I just stood there staring, wondering what was going through her mind at that very moment. Then the twitching stopped and the eyes went dim. I could still see myself in the reflection of the pupils as they dilated. It was like a camera capturing the last photo of her life.......and it was me. I knew from that moment on, I was reborn. She gave birth to the new me."
There was a long pause that settled in the room. Jonathon leaned forward twisted in disgust. He knew it was about controlling the victim and losing control of himself. Steven was a psychopath with deep seeded, severe anger issues. Jonathon kept his composure from his distaste of what he just heard. He leaned towards Steven’s face and said,
“So you’re telling me that you killed an innocent girl that was jogging because of some over the top rage filled fantasy that made you feel better because your father wailed on you? You than felt more at peace than ever before. The problem is Steven, you don’t even know what you are.”
Steven Willis became enraged from the comment. For a moment he felt understood and then he felt belittled. Like he was a child being judged again on the playground. He felt Jon still didn’t understand. His eyes went black again as he said,
“Oh Jonathon don’t be so self-righteous. I understand that right now you think that it was sadistic and wrong but look beyond what you think is right. It was part of an evolutionary process. Not only was my inner pain satisfied but the ultimate taboo was broken. I stepped out from beyond my own shadow and accepted myself for who I was. Given your current status as a profiler I am sure you are more than familiar with the human mind Jon. It’s a remarkable thing really. See there are many theories that were conceived from the studies of the human brain. Psychologists and Sociologists have tried to un-wrap the mystery of the mind for over a century. They are always trying to figure out why we do what we do. Why do we have a conscience? Why do we have guilt? Was it something to do with our past? Is it derived from the arguments of nature versus nurture? The thing is it has nothing to do with anything. It is our choice to embrace those dark thoughts that we dare not speak of, but yet everyone thinks about it. To find out your true self you must explore every aspect of yourself. The good and the bad. We all have things about ourselves that we lock away, safely hidden in those little doors within our minds. But careful which doors you open, you might not be able to come back from the other side. If you go deep enough into the mind you can find your shadow.”
Jon nodded and asked,
“Your shadow? You keep mentioning you stepped beyond your shadow? What does that mean to you?”
Steven Willis smiled sadistically as he let out a chuckle. He then asked,
“You ever take any psychedelic drugs Jonny boy?”
“What are you trying to say? You were on drugs when you killed people Mr. Willis?”
“No of course not, I’m asking have you ever taken any psychedelic drugs?”
“Yes, I have smoked some marijuana when I was young.”
Steven let out a snicker that led into a full swing of laughter that filled the room. Jonathon just stared at him, wondering if this guy really was nuts or just messing with him. Steven then saw the fact that Jon wasn’t impressed and quickly calmed down once again. He said,
“No I’m not talking about marijuana. I’m also not talking about ecstasy, LSD or even mushrooms. I’m talking about the real deal here Jonny Boy.”
“What does this have to do with killing people? Or this Shadow anyways?”
Steven stared at Jon and went very serious. His eyes intensified as his nostrils flared, than a whisper slipped through his lips.
“Everything”
The feeling was a bit overwhelming; he was bewildered by the way Steven’s voice would change so radically with his own mind of reason. He really seemed to believe in what he was saying. Detective Cratick then asked,
“Alright Steven what kind of drug ar
e you talking about?”
“Have you ever experienced Dimethyltryptamine?”
“Dimethy what’a?”
“Dimethyltryptamine, more commonly known as DMT?”
“No, to be honest I have never even heard of it.”
“Oh well it’s quite the unique little drug you know, well I wouldn’t even really qualify DMT as a drug. See it is something our brain produces when we are in our REM sleep. It’s a natural hallucinogenic compound that is released during your dreams. But you can take a synthesized form of the drug, either through injection or inhalation. See it can be extracted from animals or plants. It’s quite the process but when perfected and done correctly it can produce amazing results. Did you ever wonder why you dream Jonny Boy? Where they come from? Why we have them? See if we didn’t dream during our sleep, we would actually go quite mad. There is a drug that can suppress dreams so that we can’t remember them, but we actually do still dream. What are your nightmares like? Have you ever faced your shadow? The true ugliness behind mankind truly does lie within our subconscious. Maybe if you would have dug deeper into the skeletons in your closet you would have caught me sooner?”
Profile of the Gemini Serial Killer Page 3