People Who Are Positive They've Interacted with a Serial Killer Are Sharing Their Stories

My sister had 3 boyfriends who were all found hung. All 3 were at the end of their relationship with my sister and my sister found all 3 of their bodies.

About 1 week before the last boyfriend was found, my sister was having an argument with him and a friend heard her say, "I'll just wait until the next time you get f***** up on heroin and I'll strap a belt around your neck and strangle you to death!" Sure enough, a week later and that's exactly how they found him! All 3 of those boyfriends were heroin users, too! Then, 1.5 years later, my sister put fentanyl in my mom's wine bottle and killed my mom, too.

What happened? To my sister? Essentially, nothing happened. Law enforcement ignored all the evidence (literally) and refused to open a case until after my mother's autopsy and toxicology report came back, which they estimated would take 8 to 12 weeks. I convinced them to open a case after only 6 weeks (by pointing out the 3 boyfriends she had 'found') and they assigned my mom's case to homicide.

Homicide detectives met with me once for just over an hour and refused to even look at any of the dozens of notebooks/journals my sister had left behind after I got an order of protection and had her thrown out of my mother's house two weeks after my mother's death, including one journal entry she wrote that same night.

My sister lawyered up and it took homicide over 7 weeks before they were able to talk to her. I had my sister arrested 3x for violating the order of protection and it would have been several more times than that if the police response time <45 minutes, but generally it took the police 1.5 to 2.5 hours to respond to a 911 call, the only time they showed up after only 45 minutes was when i told them that my sister was in the house with a gun.

It's not considered a warrantless arrest unless she's still there when the police show up so their 2.5hr response time pretty much gave my sister free reign to terrorize me without worry. Eventually, the lead homicide detective told me that "she just caught this case too late and there was nothing she could really do about it now."

So, essentially, my sister got away with killing 3 boyfriends, her own cat (died of antifreeze poisoning a few months before the last boyfriend was found hung), and my mother. There are a number of other deaths that I suspect my sister may have had something to do with, as well, but the 3 boyfriends and my mom are the ones I'm sure she killed.

But, what goes around comes around. 6.5 months after she killed my mom, my sister's newest boyfriend killed her, too. Coincidentally, he was also with my sister the night she killed my mother. My sister had taken out a life insurance policy on herself and made him the beneficiary despite that they didn't even start dating until after my mother's death.

What happened to him? He didn't collect any life insurance money but he did collect the $30k college fund my mother had set up for my sister after she apparently made him the beneficiary for that, too.

I honestly don't know how anyone gets caught for murder since it's apparently so easy to get away with and the police can't be bothered to investigate or look at evidence. Even my sister couldn't believe they hadn't stopped her yet.

What happened? To me? This is all I ever think about. I am not ok. I feel isolated from society, like I live in exhile. Work is hard. Dating is impossible. I'm a magnet for lowlifes who are looking to take advantage. All my hopes, dreams, goals, and plans for the future died with my mom.

My life has no meaning. The only thing that keeps me going is my devotion to my kitten and my pup. When people tell me that I'll be ok one day, I just nod my head and smile while thinking to myself, "no, I won't, I'll never be ok."

Username: DLDreamGirl

In 1991 when I was twenty years old, I took a summer job working for a pest control company in Merced, CA. I was assigned to work with a fellow by the name of Cary. Cary and I would drive around in a work truck, visiting people all over the area, spraying for insects, crawling under houses and placing tarps over homes occasionally.

After a few weeks, as we naturally started to become closer, he shared with me that his younger brother named Steven, was the victim of a kidnapping when he was seven and then proceeded to tell me the story of how he had escaped seven years later while rescuing another young boy from the abductor. He then talked about how unfortunately his brother was killed in a motorcycle crash two years prior.

His story was memorable to me but it wasn't until I shared it with my parents and friends, did I realize just how infamous the event was. It was a national story, a TV movie and Steven was a hero. It was a sensitive subject but we discussed how he felt and how it affected his family.

Cary shared with me his feelings, which seemed natural to my twenty year old self. Nothing too personal and deep but I could tell he was dealing with mixed emotions, so I chose not to dig too deep. I remember feel sympathy.

Cary was popular at work and well liked by our coworkers. He was a skilled artist and would make cartoon style drawings that I noticed all over the walls at work and at people's desk. I met his parents on one occasion when he stopped by their house to pick something up and they were friendly and warm to me.

We shared an interest in Bigfoot and would often discuss it in-depth. He even shared with me that he had seen Bigfoot on one of his many solo camping trips. He would often talk about how much he liked visiting and camping in Yosemite, which was close to Merced and even invited me to join him on more than one occasion. I never did but was genuinely interested.

He shared with me that he was a nudist and liked sunbathing nude in remote areas of Yosemite, which surprised me because he appeared shy, especially around women. I had no interest in being naked but never judged him for it.

He stated that he loved the German tourists he would encounter because they were comfortable with nudity and therefore it made him feel at ease. Like I said, he acted shy around women but I witnessed several women flirt with him and even though we never spoke directly about his relationships, I felt like he had a healthy and normal dating life.

When the Summer ended, I gave my notice. Pest control was not the career for me but I felt like I had a good experience overall. I did not live in Merced, so I said goodbye to my coworkers knowing I would probably never interact with them again and that's what happened.

Eight years later, in 1999 I received a call from my friend asking me how I felt about my old coworker getting arrested for the Yosemite murders of four women. I had heard the news on television but it wasn't until that call that my brain suddenly realized that the murderer was that Cary Stayner! The same Cary Stayner that I worked with for three months in the Summer of 1991.

The emotions I felt were unbelievable and I remember them like they were yesterday. I was beyond shocked and deeply saddened for the victims but I could not stop questioning myself over how I never suspected this incredibly dark side of this man.

How could I be so naive and stupid as to not be able to tell that I was riding around with a serial killer! I spoke to everyone I could about it, seeking sympathy for not recognizing this awful trait in this man.

Years later, I accepted that there was nothing wrong with me for not noticing this about him. My basic research into the subject taught me that these type of people are so good at hiding their thoughts that their own parents and spouses often don't sense it. Why would a 20 year old student be able to sense this in a man who's actively hiding it.

I'll end this by saying that I never felt threatened by Cary Stayner nor did I ever feel nervous around him. He conducted himself professionally around clients and friendly among coworkers. I guess the old saying is true, you never know what evil lurks in the hearts of men?

Username: StylesBitchly

This didn't happen to me but is a story one of my Mom's close friends used to tell (he passed away a few years back, sadly). Anyway, let's call my Mom's friend "Leo."

Leo did a lot of traveling in his 20s, and in the late 1960s he stayed for a few months with a friend in California (US). Leo's friend was a regular at a bar in the town he lived in, so while Leo was staying there, he started hanging out at the bar, too.

One evening not long after Leo arrived, he and his buddy were hanging out in the bar when the bartender walked over and with a roll of their eyes, said, "Don't look now, that little weirdo is back." Leo's friend rolls his eyes too and points this little squirrelly looking guy out to Leo.

He explained that this guy comes in once a week or so, sits at the bar and rambles on to anyone who will listen, mostly about his music career that he's trying to start up. The friend tells Leo, "He's harmless, just comes on a little strong."

One night a few weeks later, the guy comes and sits down close enough that he starts talking to Leo and his friend. He introduced himself to Leo as Charlie and started telling him about some songs he was writing and how he's going to hit the big time any day now.

Leo told me that it was honestly a pretty normal conversation, but the main thing he remembered about Charlie, especially that first meeting, was his intensity. He said the guy would make almost constant eye contact (not threatening or anything, but a bit over the top, enough so that it made Leo uncomfortable sometimes), and he would lean in real close to whoever he was speaking to.

Charlie must've taken a liking to Leo, because after that first meeting, he would always at least come over to say hi to Leo and his friend. Leo described Charlie as being small and wiry but for some reason he seemed to do well with the ladies in the bar. Most of the guys tolerated him but rolled their eyes at him behind his back. Leo got to know him decently well during his stay in California, and said he honestly never got any overly weird vibes, unless Charlie started talking about politics. Apparently then he would get really serious and even more intense while he talked about some stuff Leo found to be really "out there." Leo was Native American, and at one point Charlie warned him that he would have to choose sides in the upcoming race war between the Blacks and the whites.

I'm sure at this point a lot of you have figured out where I'm going with this. Leo soon moved and met the woman who would become his wife. He basically forgot about Charlie, until 1969 when the Tate/LaBianca murders happened, and, like much of the rest of the country, followed the reporting on the horrific crimes. One day, he turned on the latest news about the crimes and was shocked to see a picture of a person he recognized on the screen... It was Charlie, the "harmless," chatty little musician -wanna-be from the bar!

That's right, intense and somewhat annoying Charlie turned out to be none other than Charles Manson, the murderous mastermind and cult leader who would soon become famous for his part in the crimes. Leo said he was still standing, staring at the TV with his mouth hanging open in shock when the phone rang. He picked it up and it was his friend from the bar, who had also just seen the news.

I heard Leo tell this story multiple times since I was a kid, and he always wrapped up by saying that it still gave him chills when he thought about how often he had actually hung out with Charlie at the bar. He said in retrospect a lot of Charlie's political ramblings that had made Leo so uncomfortable now made a lot more sense in light of everything that eventually came out about the Manson family.

Username: AquariusRising1983

Well, I wouldn't doubt if she's killed more than one person, but I'm pretty sure my friends mom had him murdered for the life insurance. He wasn't a kid btw, he was about 25 when he died. But when he was a kid, mom was an unstable crackhead bringing home different guys every night.

(I was there when this happened, not just heard about it) anyway, as he got older he worked landscaping jobs and other odd jobs and saved up until he could move out. He moved into my neighborhood where I had my first house! I was so excited to have a friend down the street.

We were even closer since I left my abusive ex boyfriend and he was one of the people standing up for me online and in person when the ex's family tried claiming I did him dirty when he was the one cheating on me and shooting up bath salt. But Jon was there for me. I'll use his real name because chances of anyone knowing this story are low.

Anyway, Jon and I were really close friends, you get the picture. One day he tells me his mom is moving in. We had a back and forth conversation with me questioning why he would do her a favor of letting her stay somewhere after how she parented him, or lack thereof rather.

He claimed she promised to pay, she'd be just like a roommate and she'd help out with chores. I really didn't believe this, but I knew Jon was not naive in the least, I knew there must have been some reason he let her stay. But I really never figured out why.

One day, early in the morning, I get a call from his mom. She's in tears, saying the cops are at the house and to come over, something horrible has happened. I get over there and we all listen to what the cops tell us together. He was found in the street, in front of a mutual friends house, with a huge bash in the head and no evidence. A passerby found him at 4am.

Apparently he was out drinking with friends, it was the first time he drank in a while from a brief stint of sobriety, I think he was celebrating something and the friends he was with said he told them to drop him off at the corner of the road and that he'd walk the rest of the way.

(This doesn't make sense on backroads where we live. People drive to their mailboxes to get their mail here. It was almost a mile from the street corner to where he was heading.)

We all grieve, have a funeral, and his mom throughout is making fundraisers and getting money left and right from people for "funeral expenses" and whatnot. She went on a year long vacation to New York after that.

She also declines to talk to anyone when they ask to do a story on her son and his unsolved murder. I've talked to a local crime investigative journalist in my area to try and get the word out so that everyone can share what they know, and maybe we can narrow it down and even solve it with a shred of hope.

Now, this whole time we've always thought maybe it was the mutual friend's brother who killed him, since that's who's house Jon was walking to. We all assumed maybe Jon walked up when the brother was high/drunk out of his mind and hit him with his infamous lacrosse stick he uses when enraged. This brother also fled to Florida after the murder/during questioning.

But the way his mom declined to talk about her son completely changed my mind; "I don't deserve to be reminded about my son's death anymore" Her saying that actually changed a few other friend's minds too.

We all think that she had an agreement with someone to kill him for the money. I think that's also why she left for so long afterwards, because she likely didn't even want to be fair to her partner in crime. Which may have been the friends brother after all! This woman is so grimy and trashy that I wouldn't doubt if she's killed other people too. One day we'll figure this shit out Jon. One day.

Username: KitticusCatticus

Went to the bar with my regular drinking buddy. We were pretty friendly with everyone back then and some guy in a suit that seemed mildy handicapped (or something) started up a conversation with us. We felt sorry for him because he said his aunt was dying of cancer and he needed weed to try and make cbd oil for her.

We informed him that we could definitely get weed for him and invited him over to smoke a joint with us after the bar. This is where things got strange. He started saying things like he could get us a job at a Marijuana growing facility and that he had access to the best weed.

This obviously contradicted his previous statements, but he seemed mentally ill or something so we gave him a break. Later on, on the way to my house, he said that he didn't actually work for a grow-op and that he made the whole thing up. We thought it was kind of weird but we felt sorry for him so we let it slide.

We get to my place and when he comes in he did something I've never seen a guest do before, but I didn't think anything of it at the time. He basically disrespectfuly threw his jacket and briefcase on my living room floor. He then sat down with a sort of bravado and just leaned back all happy and smiling like he was waiting for something. We offered him the joint amd started smoking it.

That's when I think the GHB kicked in. I've been almost date-raped before and it was the same feeling. It felt like I was about to lose consciousness and pass out. My friend was standing next to me and I noticed it was happening to him too.

The power of the drug felt overwhelming. My vision was going black and it felt like I was about to hit the floor. My friend was also going down and his knees were going to buckle.

I don't really have an explanation for what happened next but this is what happened: I grabbed onto my friend and he grabbed onto me. We held onto each other's shoulders while he waited for us to pass out (I only realized he was doing this retroactively).

I don't know if it was my recently unlocked kundalini, the sheer power of friendship, or the fact that my friend and I drank a lot and would sometimes do random drugs with people, but the heavy passing-out feeling somehow went down into our feet and then it was just GONE. Immediately afterward, ALL of the energy in our "guest" passed out of him. He went from grinning and happy and disrespectful to almost slumping out of his chair.

He barely had the energy to excuse himself to the bathroom, where he stayed for several hours. My friend and I felt fine and just kept drinking and talking until he came out. I dont know why, but for some reason we must have both assumed that weird moment was just from too much beer or something.

When he came out of the he asked us to call him a cab and he said was feeling much better. I waited for the cab with him (I honestly had not put 2 and 2 together at this point and still thought he was some random weirdo.) I'll never forget what he said before he got into the cab:

Me: That was some pretty good weed, hey?
Him: (Not impressed) Oh, no. Why?
Me: I thought you almost green-out in the bathroom? I thought that's why you were in there? Maybe it was too strong for you or something?
Him: No, no...I've had WAY stronger stuff than that! You guys have no idea what you did for me last night!
He then got in the cab and left.

Reviewing it later, after I was sober, I realized that he must have drugged our drinks at the bar, and the reason he kept acting strange and contradictory toward us was because he was toying with us. He simply saw us as his next set of prey. Till this day, I still wonder what was in his briefcase and what he would have done to us if we had passed out.

Username: knightenrichman

So, a little background here. My father was in the Army for 21 years, retired and moved to a VERY small town in Central Florida. He got bored after a couple of years, and even though we didn't need the money between his retirement and what my mom was making as a bookkeeper/tax prep, he wanted to go back to work.

He started working at various gas stations, and it being a small town, the owners wouldn't care if I came there and helped him out with stocking the coolers, or even running the register, as long as I didn't sell any beer or smokes.

This all took place in the late 80's, and early 90's. The actual story I'm going to tell, took place in 1990, and I remember the date well, because it was shortly after my birthday and being 15 in Florida, I had just gotten my learner's permit, and my dad would let me drive him to and from work, just to get some experience on the road, both at day and at night.

I was sitting in my usual spot at a table that was set up along the windows, book in hand, feet propped up and a Mt. Dew on the table along with some snacks. I would generally spend most of the evening that way, reading books, getting up to run the register/stock the cooler at different times.

I remember glancing up because something caught my attention that was unusual, and I realized that a lady was walking up our parking lot from the direction of the interstate (the gas station was right on I-75).

This in itself was really strange, because where we were located, you didn't get many people walking, and definitely not walking from the direction of the Interstate. I figured she had broken down somewhere, and was coming to use the phone to call for a tow truck or something. I was completely wrong.

She came into the store, looked around for a few minutes, and I remember getting just a strange and creepy feeling about her. She walked up to the counter, and started telling my dad a story about how she had gotten stranded and needed a ride up to the next big town up north from us (Ocala was the town, this is important). My dad lets her know that he's working, and there is no way that he can take her.

She turns and looks at me, and while she is looking away from him, my dad catches my eye and subtly shakes his head no. I was confused for a second, but then she turns back to my dad and points at me, asking if I can take her.

My dad responded back that I only had a learner's permit, and wouldn't be able to drive her anywhere and then drive back. Normally, I would have done it, even though it was illegal, because I'd done it a few times before already.

I didn't argue with my dad, since this was completely out of character for him. He was normally chatty with the customers, but for whatever reason he was almost curt and dismissive of her. Turns out, he had a bad vibe about her from the minute he had seen her walking up the drive.

Well, she cusses him for a minute, and he basically tells her to get out of the store. She slammed the door open, I thought the glass was going to break from how hard she had slammed it, and then she stalks out of the store and down the driveway.

I keep an eye on her, and continue to watch as she makes her way back up to the interstate and then starts up the northbound on ramp. Almost a year passes, and I'm in my bedroom, less than a week before my 16th birthday.

I hear my dad yelling from the living room "Son, get your ass in here and look at this!" I quickly run to the living room and see my dad pointing at the TV, and look at the mug shot of the lady up on the screen, and immediately remember the lady who had been in the store.

Turns out I almost gave a car ride to Aileen Wuornos, who was later convicted of being a serial murderer and then later put to death. Still have nightmares about what could have happened.

Username: Banluil

In 1991 when I was twenty years old, I took a summer job working for a pest control company in Merced, CA. I was assigned to work with a fellow by the name of Cary. Cary and I would drive around in a work truck, visiting people all over the area, spraying for insects, crawling under houses and placing tarps over homes occasionally.

After a few weeks, as we naturally started to become closer, he shared with me that his younger brother named Steven, was the victim of a kidnapping when he was seven and then proceeded to tell me the story of how he had escaped seven years later while rescuing another young boy from the abductor. He then talked about how unfortunately his brother was killed in a motorcycle crash two years prior.

His story was memorable to me but it wasn't until I shared it with my parents and friends, did I realize just how infamous the event was. It was a national story, a TV movie and Steven was a hero. It was a sensitive subject but we discussed how he felt and how it affected his family.

Cary shared with me his feelings, which seemed natural to my twenty year old self. Nothing too personal and deep but I could tell he was dealing with mixed emotions, so I chose not to dig too deep. I remember feel sympathy.

Cary was popular at work and well liked by our coworkers. He was a skilled artist and would make cartoon style drawings that I noticed all over the walls at work and at people's desk. I met his parents on one occasion when he stopped by their house to pick something up and they were friendly and warm to me.

We shared an interest in Bigfoot and would often discuss it in-depth. He even shared with me that he had seen Bigfoot on one of his many solo camping trips. He would often talk about how much he liked visiting and camping in Yosemite, which was close to Merced and even invited me to join him on more than one occasion. I never did but was genuinely interested.

He shared with me that he was a nudist and liked sunbathing nude in remote areas of Yosemite, which surprised me because he appeared shy, especially around women. I had no interest in being naked but never judged him for it.

He stated that he loved the German tourists he would encounter because they were comfortable with nudity and therefore it made him feel at ease. Like I said, he acted shy around women but I witnessed several women flirt with him and even though we never spoke directly about his relationships, I felt like he had a healthy and normal dating life.

When the Summer ended, I gave my notice. Pest control was not the career for me but I felt like I had a good experience overall. I did not live in Merced, so I said goodbye to my coworkers knowing I would probably never interact with them again and that's what happened.

Eight years later, in 1999 I received a call from my friend asking me how I felt about my old coworker getting arrested for the Yosemite murders of four women. I had heard the news on television but it wasn't until that call that my brain suddenly realized that the murderer was that Cary Stayner! The same Cary Stayner that I worked with for three months in the Summer of 1991.

The emotions I felt were unbelievable and I remember them like they were yesterday. I was beyond shocked and deeply saddened for the victims but I could not stop questioning myself over how I never suspected this incredibly dark side of this man. How could I be so naive and stupid as to not be able to tell that I was riding around with a serial killer! I spoke to everyone I could about it, seeking sympathy for not recognizing this awful trait in this man.

Years later, I accepted that there was nothing wrong with me for not noticing this about him. My basic research into the subject taught me that these type of people are so good at hiding their thoughts that their own parents and spouses often don't sense it. Why would a 20 year old student be able to sense this in a man who's actively hiding it.

I'll end this by saying that I never felt threatened by Cary Stayner nor did I ever feel nervous around him. He conducted himself professionally around clients and friendly among coworkers. I guess the old saying is true, you never know what evil lurks in the hearts of men?

Username: StylesBitchly

While on a road trip we were passing through Arkansas. Did you know there are states where it is possible to drive for sometimes **multiple hours** and not come across a town? Did you know Arkansas is one of them?

Neither did we! So around 11:30pm we roll up on the first place to stop we had seen while trying to stop for quite a while. We stumble into the parking lot. A bunch of young adults, not all of which are old enough yet to drink, pile out of our cars with California license plates and ask for couple of rooms.

The guy behind the counter is none too pleased to see us, but is not turning down money. We have to pay in cash, but he gives us 2 rooms to split up among us.

This particular motel has 2 buildings. One building is well lit, right up against the road, and also has about half a dozen cars in front of it. The other building is about 300 feet away from the road. There are no lights, trees block our building from view from the other and no other cars are there.

I get it, I figure they are trying to make sure a bunch of roudy drunks don't keep their other customers awake. We don't care, we are going to pass right the fuck out, we wanted to stop driving 3 hours ago. Getting into the rooms we are greeted by a perfectly normal room *at first.*

While everyone else was getting into the room to pick places to sleep I turned around and looked at the door as I closed it. This door has been kicked in before.

I can tell because *chunks are still missing from the door frame.* There is metal reinforcment on the door itself, but this doesn't mean anything when the only thing holding the door closed are the copper strike plates for the handle and dead bolt. Nop they didn't even bother putting bondo or something on it. From the inside I could see into the door frame. The door had been kicked inward in the past.

As I bring this up, by friend who was looking at taking a sleeping spot on the couch asks if "that looks like BBQ sauce?" Behind the black leather couch is a stain on the wall.

We pulled the couch away from the wall and see some brownish red stains, but most importantly a gough in the wall about 6 inches long, 1/8th of an inch deep, in a pattern with 3 gouges all pefectly parelel with each other, so probably all made by the same impact at the same time from something sharp.

Another friend leaned against the kitchen counter and the counter *pulled away from the wall* leading to a crawl space between rooms. There was enough room for a person to fit in there, and a hole large enough for them to fit through if they pushed the counter away.

The friend that went to go check the couch was in the bathroom and found a ceiling tile that could push away directly above the shower. I don't know how he found it, but he did. We report this to the guys in the other room... they find similar problems.

Well like I said, we had been driving 3 hours longer than we anticipated, and were concerned we could be driving for another 3 hours before we find a place so we say fuck it, we sleep in the murder motel. While sleeping there nothing happened, but I do think a large portion of why notning happened is because for this particular road trip we had intended to go hunting.

So we had guns in the cars. Guns we were very vocal about transporting from the car into the hotel room, and making sure to loudly count our ammo to "make sure we didn't leave any." We also brought in sveral machettes, a hatchet, a trench shovel and a bunch of other things. Just to be safe no one slept IN the beds.

I slept up against the door with a machette. One of my friends was under the bed with a hatchet. Another slept in the shower with a knife and a machette. My friend on the couch lept with the rifle next to him, and I was instructed to hold anyone at the door long enough for him to chamber a round then dive for the ground when he said "clear." I don't know if made for an amusing, or disappointing story for the guy who possibly wanted to claw us to death.

Username: DuntadaMan

Okay. So. My story is not of the serial killer, but the brother of one. (WHOM IS SUSPECTED TO BE THE REAL KILLER) picktons brother.( Look up canadas most notorious serial killer) Me and 3 of my friends have all had encounters with this man.

I live in canada, where wendys and tim hortons are connected. I was working in the hometown of the pickton pig farm. I was on shift working one day when this man came in to my work. I did not know who he was (at first) he came up to the counter and i got a really bad feeling.

He loudly ordered his food. He requested no pickles but then told my female manager “no pickles but ill give you my pickle 😉” she said thats not appropriate and walked away. A man took her place.

Later on on a different day he came back. another manager who was about 7-8 months pregnant and showing was sad (she was always overly joyful) i asked her whats wrong?? And she said that man over there (the brother) said i shouldn’t be pregnant and why would i do that?

Horrible thing todo and that im ruining my life or something. And she was so confused. I was angry someone would say something awful like that to her. I asked who she was talking about and she said that man that made the pickle comment to the other manager.

I said to her that man is the brother of canadas most notorious serial killer. She said ?? No hes not. I said yes he is. Look it up. The name is willy picton. Hes picktons brother. AS I SAID THIS the worst timing, HE WALKED OUT OF THE BATHROOM and heard that part of the conversation.

He gave me the most horrific look. I was so scared. I went back behind the counter only to see 5 minutes later he was still glaring at me. His eyes pierced through me and it was horrifying. I felt sick to my stomach. I looked him up and saw sexual assault case & multiple threats he made to women about “raping and murdering” them

I told my manager, she did not care nor did she even believe me. Until i pulled up articles of HIS own sexual abuse scandals. She finally took me seriously but still didnt care. Just looked startled. About 2 hours later a new manager is on. Its a male. He tells me i need to train the new kid. So i do.

And i take him out in to the dining room and show him what were expected todo. We both notice pickton staring at me. My trainee points out he is staring at me. I said yes i know, and tried to get back to showing him what todo in the dining room.

(I thought id be safe working with a guy plus the place has so many cameras) Trainee starts getting worked up and anxious and says he cant do this anymore and he needed to tell the manager about this scary man staring at me.

He goes in to details and says the guy hasn’t looked away, moved his head or ANYTHING but stare at me in a scary way for the past 30-45 minutes. ( i havent even told my trainee who this man is) and then he tells the male manager who says it doesn’t matter and he hasnt touched me so we have to continue.

My trainee refuses to continue and we go back behind the counter. That man sat in the dining room for another few hours glaring at me in a haunting blood curdling way that i cant fully explain.. i was so scared he was going to follow me home. A male co worker had to walk me out to my car for the every shift i worked there on wards.

I dont know what he was thinking. Or planning todo. But there was no physical harm to me. I will never forget the look on his face and the way his eyes felt burrowing in to me. This was 5 ish years ago and it still haunts me.

Username: crapadoodledoop

Tl:dr I went on two dates with an odd criminal justice student who’s class mates thought he was a serial killer and found out that he was already incarcerated for 3 years in a psychiatric facility. If he hasn’t killed yet he will

Went on two dates with a guy from Tinder who was a little off and too into criminology. Went to his house and it was fully bare except for his office which was full of binders titled John’s (his name-fake) notes, John’s hydration, John’s thoughts, etc. there we are also lots of anatomy books and heavily notated copies of the DSM 4&5.

I commented on how his house gave off serial killer vibes and his eyes got wide and he said his classmates always said that to him. He also told me how he was reading the Quran because he liked how Muslim women masculinized their men and he felt guilty for Afghanistan (he was white and never served.

I’m not even religious or middle eastern so no idea why he picked me). Went to his room and he only had a twin bed, this man was 28 and 6ft6. I was in a dry spell so I slept with him and it sucked but I figured it was more due to me having vaginismus.

Next morning I learned that he owned his kinda run down apt and that his family owned a lot of property in the Bay Area but they seemed to keep him at an arms length. Like his family was apparently quite wealthy. I chalked his awkwardness up to being autistic or something (I am also on the spectrum) and went on my way.

Later on I got a text from him saying that he “thought about our sex and started doing some WRITING on MY vaginismus” that’s not autocorrect he wrote about my vagina not read about it. This man did not have a degree in health or anything. He had only just started undergrad.

He also sent me a picture of some fully filled notebook pages, one where he wrote the word water over and over and one “poem” about hydration (I interned for a water filtration company so I guess that was him trying to connect).

We went on a second date and he spent a lot of time talking about his weight and how he was an intentionally skinny dude. We also passed a 9/11 memorial where he spent a lot of time talking about darkly it, even though he didn’t have a direct connection (I asked). He also spoke a lot about how he had knowingly slept with a woman who wasn’t divorced yet but in proceedings and he wanted to later punish her for cheating on her husband.

I was already planning my exit strategy well before this point when he dropped a bombshell .I mentioned I was on the spectrum in an attempt to see if he was. He paused and said “since you opened up to me I’ll open up to you...I was incarcerated in a psychiatric facility for 3 years”. He was adamant about how he was wrongfully diagnosed with schizophrenia but he wasn’t mentally ill.

Through some awkward questioning I deduced it was either for selling drugs or for raping a woman but never found out for sure. He admitted to the drug dealing but accused the woman of lying.

Reminder that this was a white dude from a wealthy family so whatever it was he did that shit. Maybe I listen to too much true crime but I genuinely think he will kill eventually if he hasn’t already.

Username: cammickin

My D&D group were hanging out in the game room of our local community college when an older man in his 40s came in and asked if he could join. Over the course of weeks and months he would gradually explain things that seemed a little odd-ball in terms of knowledge, like just off-hand knowledge of how much force it takes for a knife to pierce the skin or between which ribs would be the easiest for a blade to reach the heart. Weird.

One day he comes in and out of the blue just starts telling us how if he ever needed to kill someone he would get some of those blue plastic 55-gallon barrels. He'd prep the barrels by cutting a hole in the lid and lining it with a garden hose so its not sharp.

Then he'd knock out his target and while unconscious stuff them into the barrel with their head poking out through the hole, emphasis was put on making sure the hole was bigger than the persons neck so there was space. He'd then fill all the empty space in the barrel with dog/cat food and then seal the barrel lid onto the barrel.

He then went on to explain how when the person wakes up he would keep feeding them milk and honey. At some point the person will need to relieve themselves and with no way to get out they'll have to go in the barrel they're in.

The smell of the excrement will draw flies which will fly in around the hole in the top, find the food source and lay eggs. The eggs will hatch and turn into maggots which will begin eating everything in the barrel. He pointed out at this point that when maggots eat something their saliva has a mild anesthetic quality, so the person in the barrel will not know what's happening to them.

The maggots are eating all the dog food, feces, and their body while they can't even feel it. Eventually the open wounds will be infected and after a bunch of suffering will die, at which point he would just put a new solid lid on the top and leave the maggots to finish eating their meal.

It was really creepy but we forgot about it when someone in the room changed the subject back to the D&D game. He stops playing in the game but maybe 6 months later he just pops by and asks if anyone would be willing to help him move some stuff out of his garage.

He's cleaning out some old junk and just need a couple of guys to help do some heavy lifting. He offers $200 plus dinner each so 5 of us take us up on his offer. My buddy follows him with his jeep while he's driving his old pickup truck to his house out in the woods and he opens his garage.

Inside the garage is 5 blue plastic 55 gallon drums. We all glance at each other and just shake our head no briefly. No words are exchanged, we pick up the barrels, load them in his pickup truck collect our money, decline the option for dinner and head out. I don't think anyone spoke a word the entire time. No one brought it up ever again and we never saw the man at the college again.

Username: beholder87

I would have been about 21 at the time, about 20 odd years ago. Having had a good night out at the dancing, I left Strathclyde Student Union, and walked down to George Square to wait on the last bus home around 4.30am.

The last buses were 2am, 3am and 4.30am, and because there was no 4am bus, everyone would think that the bus was at 4am and had already left. So I'm standing myself, desperately needing a pish, when a car pulls up.

The driver leans out and asks if I've seen his friend, gave a description, I says no, and he drives off. I watch as he drives around George Square before pulling up again. He asks where I'm heading, and I tell him, he says jump in and he'll give me a lift.

Now it did dawn on me not to get into a car with a stranger, but in my drunken stupour I thought, I'm a guy, I'm fit, I can fight, what's the worst that could happen?

So I get in the car and we drive off, making small talk. About 10 minutes into the drive I was telling a joke when he laughs and then immediately says "I'll just pull over here and indecently assault you". His exact words.

I kind of laughed it off (I mean it was a fucking bizarre thing to say, caught me off-guard), but we kept driving and we kept on making small talk, for another 5 minutes or so, when the same thing happens.
"I'll just pull over here and indecently assault you".

Exact same words. I think to myself, it wasn't really funny the first time pal, but I laugh it off again, a wee bit less enthusiastically this time. Then we sat in silence for another 10 minutes...and as we pass a layby, he hits out with it again. "I'll just pull over here and indecently assault you".

That was when I suddenly realised the horrible, horrible mistake I had made. Not just by getting into this dude's car, but with what was going on in the news at the time.

I don't know if anyone outside of Scotland is familiar with the "Limbs in the Loch" murder, where the limbs of a young guy about my age (at the time) were found in bags submerged in Loch Lomond, and his head and torso were found washed up on the beach near Largs (I think), apparently having been flung over the side of the ferry to Belfast.

But at this point in time, the murderer hadn't been caught yet. I'm positive this was the guy. And when he said that thing a 3rd time, I immediately sobered up and came up with a plan of action.

I lowered my voice and started making out I was "just out the Bar-L\* fur stabbin some cunt like a pin cushion" and made sure he couldn't get a word in edge-ways to say that fuckin freaky phrase again. I got him to drop me off on the other end of my town near a bank machine, he stops, I say, "I'll just jump out and get cash for ye, driver" like I'm pretending he's a taxi driver, he starts to explain he's not taxi but I had already opened the door and started running.

Never saw him again, and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the cunt was caught on the news. \*Bar-L = Barlinnie, the most notorious prison in Glasgow, if not Scotland.

Username: NoNameGlaswegian

Wow, I actually have a story and it's a whopper. In high school I met this guy who's name is Chris. Chris already graduated a couple years prior, but still hung out with high school aged kids.-definitely not a red flag... lol

I became aquaintenances with Chris and actually went to his house maybe 5-10 times over the course of about a year. This guy's was a fucking weirdo. He is tall, about 6'4" with a medium build. Died black hair where the front is longer than the back. Kind of like a Karen haircut but gothed out. Chris was definitely goth.

All black clothes. Black boots. Black eye liner and mascara. None of what I just described is what made him weird. What made this fruit basket weird is what he did and said. You see Chris lived with a convicted child rapist(CR).

This rapist sub leased the basement to Chris and Chris loved living there because it was cheap and "he(chris) wouldn't be the worst person living in the house for once, hahahahaha." Also, the CR had the biggest snake I've ever seen in private hands.

It was a Boa constrictor that looked to be well over 10 feet long. This snake lived in a clear plexiglass terrarium that you had no choice but to walk right next to, to get to the kitchen and subsequently Chris' basement apartment. Chris hated this snake and would shake, tap, drum, bang and whatever else on the front of the cage until the snake would get pissed and strike the plexiglass.

I fucking hated going over to this place. Chris told me how he intentionally would let the snake out to fuck with CR. He was obsessed with getting the snake to eat the CR, but I kept telling him the geometry was all wrong. He didn't care. He kept trying. He even sprinkled like, rabbit pharamones or something on CR's bed to entice old stinky slinky to get into CR's bed...

Chris was obsessed with starting a cult. He would never stop talking about it. He had made recordings where he put subliminal messaging of himself behind other music saying all kinds of awful shit. He was attempting to stockpile LSD so he could drug his cult members with it to make brainwashing them easier.

He also repeatedly brought up the fact he fantasized about what it would feel like plunging a big hunting knife into a person's body. The way he described it gave me the chills. I could go on and on about this fucking weirdo psychopath.

Yeah, so anyway he stalked a young girl, snatched her. Took her back to his apartment, killed her by stabbing her. Attempted to dismember her but couldn't. Dumped her body by the river and then proceeded to revisit locations crucial to the crime with his girlfriend and videotape the whole adventure all while said girlfriend provides narration. So she knew. People think she helped too, but was never charged because no evidence.

So that's the time I met and hung out with a guy who definitely killed somebody. I have no doubt he would have killed as many people as he could if he didn't get caught. Luckily he was a fucking moron.

Username: Los_Accidentes

Not a mainstream serial killer but, in the UK we had a killer in the 70s, Donald Nielson, known as the 'Black Panther'. He originally started with a string of post office robberies where he then murdered three people. His last crime however was a kidnapping and subsequent murder.

In 1975 he kidnapped Leslie Whittle, the daughter of a well off coach company owner in Shropshire named George Whittle.

(Sidenote) Nielson's crimes already tied closely to my family as my grandmother ran a post office, and there were horror stories in the business about him, and my grandfathers family ran a coach business and had associated with George in the past.

Nielson left a ransom note for £50,000 but due to the standard police fuck up, the ransom wasn't delivered on time. There were constant updates in the news in Shropshire and the Panther made one final phonecall.
.
From the story my mother tells, she had made a call from a phonebox in her home town to let her family know she was on her way home and she'd stayed out later than planned. When she was leaving the phone box she saw a man, clad in dark clothing, rush into the booth and make a hasty call. She said she got a weird feeling about him and left pretty quickly. The next day the news stated the Panther had made another call to the family.

She did report the details to the police but never had any information back. To this day she is certain the man she saw that night was him, and it had her shaken to the core.

For details of the final kidnapping (obvious warning):
>!Leslie was found, unfortunately passed away, in a drainage shaft, hanged. Nielson had made preparations to try to ensure her comfort and it does genuinely seem in this case that he didn't wish for her to die.

Police noted it was the shock of the fall that killed her, and not the hanging itself, and had the cord (chosen specifically not to chafe or hurt her neck) hadn't snagged then her feet would have been able to touch the ground perfectly fine. He had even provided her with a sleeping bag and a magazine for entertainment.

Leslie hadn't been fed for a few days before this, but it's speculated (as Nielson never confirmed) that he had fled when he realised the police were close to finding him, and this was the reason that Leslie hadn't been fed.!<

Nielson was caught after a routine stop check a few county's over, but when stopped he threatened the police with a shotgun. He forced the officers to drive him elsewhere, however they manage to turn the car in the other direction. The two officers siezed an opportunity to subdue him and he was arrested shortly after, where his fingerprints were found to match those found in the drainage shaft.

During his trial the evidence was shown that he had tried to provide comfort for Leslie, but he was convicted of her murder anyway. It was after this point he was also convicted for the murder of the three post office workers.

Username: WannaOne-tToDie

I can't say for certain if the person I encountered was the person I thought it was, but I'm fairly certain they were at the very least a high level predator. We were on a subway, and he was charming two young female backpackers into giving him loads of information about their trip; where they would be, who was expecting them that night (no one), how they were planning to get places (hitchhiking on I-5), what they had lined up (a shiiiiiiiiittttty hotel.)

One girl even mentioned how heavy her backpack was, and how tired she was, and also that she had blisters from new shoes. She couldn't have painted a wider target for him. They seemed so charmed with him, hanging on his every word about the local area. He was feeding them tips about where to eat, what subway stops to use, stuff like that.

I remember one of the girls said suddenly "oh gosh, I think we told you our whole trip plan, you could totally find us on your own now." And he said "oh, well, I'm not a serial killer." And they laughed, quite genuinely. I wanted to lean over, pretend to know them and say "hey, shut up and change your plans pronto." But again, they seemed impossibly charmed by this guy.

I wasn't. He had a weird energy around him. Not angry. It was very, very calm, but the sort of calm that happens right before the wind suddenly picks up violently and hurls trash cans and tree limbs around the neighborhood.

I don't know how to describe this well, but the body language of the front, upper half of his body (that the girls could see) was very different than the body language of the rest of his body. What they could see was very smooth and relaxed. What I saw was him slowly tensing and untensing, as if he was nervous or miming actions on a very small scale, or even jonesing for something.

They got off on the stop he'd advised they take (which wasn't the stop they were planning to use) and then he moved as though he was going to get off the train too. All the looseness in his prior body language was dropped -- he was suddenly on a mission.

I made it VERY clear that I was studying his face, mannerisms, and everything about him and he very briefly tried to turn the charm on me, but I made it clear I did not want to talk to him, but I was keeping on eye on him. He stayed on the train until the next stop. I hope I somehow helped those girls by giving them a head start.

I probably think about this every few years. I wish I'd done something, I just don't know what. I do try, when people from Not-the-USA/Not-Canada ask questions about trip planning on Reddit and suchlike, to warn them that backpacking culture/hitch-hiking culture is really different here, and for a number of reasons, the safety margins are quite different and they need to really, deeply research their trip.

Especially if they are going to remote locations or into national parks. We have parks bigger than some countries.

Username: Peliquin

Mark Christie, a man who murdered Viola Manville in 1988, managed to pass a polygraph test conducted by the police. An innocent man named Frank Sterling failed the polygraph test, and was arrested and convicted for a crime he did not commit. He was sentenced to life in jail in 1991.

In 1992, Christie abducted and killed 4-year old Kali Ann Poulton. He hid her body, which wasn’t found for two years. In the early 90s, her face was the literal posted child of the missing girl. You couldn’t go anywhere in my city, or read a newspaper, or watch television without seeing her face.

Christie lived on my street a few houses down from me, and many of the neighborhood kids used to play in out collective backyards, including his. He baked brownies for us once.

Kali’s body was found in 1994, two years after she went missing. Christie was never caught by the police investigation that followed either, and he had been cleared from the first murder and an innocent man was sentenced to life in prison for that crime already.

It wasn’t until 1996, two years after the body had been found, that Christie told his wife he killed Kali. She called the police, and he was arrested and eventually convicted of the child’s murder.

The impact around our quiet town was felt immediately. Parents wouldn’t let kids go outside any more. People locked their doors and windows. Kids were driven to school when they used to walk by themselves. Gun ownership and home security increased.

A lot of people got very, very paranoid and scared. It shook the good neighborly faith of the community very hard. It’s one thing for a murder to occur, it’s another for a missing girl to make national news for years, only to find out the murderer was hiding in plain sight among us, and that the police weren’t the ones that caught him.

We were all very aware that Christie’s choice to tell his wife was the only reason he was caught. In fact, we found out many, many years later that the police’s failures were the reason he was allowed to kill Kali.

It wasn’t until 2010 that Christie admitted to being the one behind Viola Manville’s murder thanks to the involvement of the Innocence Project. The innocent man, Sterling, was released after spending nearly two decades in jail. The police had Christie, in custody, and believed the polygraph cleared him.

The reason why it failed was because Christie is a sociopath, and he didn’t react in any way that would have been recorded as nervousness. Because he wasn’t nervous.

Even at his second sentencing for the second murder, her admitted to everything and felt zero remorse. Having met someone like that, and lived that close to a killer, it’s unsettling an taught me very young that monsters are not the “different people”. They are the people that look just like you.

Username: TheOldOak

I used to work with a serial killer named Vince Groves. I was a high-school/post high-school teenager at the time and worked cleaning office buildings at night. Vince was the supervisor for the first building I worked at and the manager for multiple buildings in the area.

He was super cool to me and called me by the name of “Superstar” because I’m a guitarist who was active in the music scene. After working with him for a while he promoted me to be a supervisor of my own bank building with a small crew.

I would work at this bank from 5:30pm until around 10pm, then head down the street to another bank building where I would start cleaning by myself until Vince showed up and helped me finish the building, which was usually sometime after midnight.

One day I showed up at the initial bank building and called the office to let them know I, and the crew, were all there and starting work. The person on the other end of the line told me that Vince wouldn’t be meeting me at the second building that night.

When I asked “why” they got kind of short with me and said something like “he just won’t be there, don’t worry about it”. I mentioned the odd interaction to my friend, Ty, and he said “I think that’s because Vince was arrested for murder”. He said as he was leaving his house to come to work his parents had the TV on and he heard a preview of the news that mentioned someone named Vince being arrested for murder.

I called home and told my mom to record the news for me so I could check it out later that night. Fast forward to like 2am when I get home, fix a late night snack and pop in the VCR tape of the news that my mom had recorded, not really expecting to see Vince on there.

Man, I was shocked to see my buddy, Vince, being talked about for not only one murder, but potentially multiple murders.

Vince ended up being convicted of three women but he is suspected of killing 20 plus women in the Denver area from 1978 to 1988. It was surreal to think that I worked alone in an empty building in the middle of the night with a guy that was out there killing people.

In retrospect, one of the scariest moments was when my girlfriend at the time, later to become my wife and eventually ex-wife, came to one of the buildings I was working at to apologize for an argument we’d had earlier in the day.

She was sitting in her car at around 10pm in the parking lot, waiting for me to make a trash run to the dumpster when suddenly, seemingly from out of nowhere there was a guy knocking on her window. She cracked the window and Vince asked what she was doing there.

When she said she was waiting for me he replied “Oh, superstar? I’ll go get him!”. The scary part is that part of his M.O. was to find women alone in parking lots and overpower them.

Another really freaky thing was the time he showed up super late at the second building to help me finish, which I remember distinctly because it was my birthday and I really wanted to get out of there and hang with friends.

When he finally showed up he was acting super weird, like out of his mind happy and really hyper. I’m pretty sure he was coked up, but later, when the newspaper posted the murders he was suspected of, it looks like he had just killed a girl before coming to meet me and finish cleaning the
building. Super creepy feeling.

Username: funcrusher1970

I was working in a very remote community for an NGO. We received a grant for a community led conservation initiative and were looking to hire someone from the village to lead it. There was a perfect candidate we'll call Adrian. Adrian accepted the position and the ngo staff soon began training him for his new role.

I did some days with him and he seemed friendly to me, though he made some pretty raunchy and lewd comments about some women we saw once. Nothing outlandish but enough for me to lose a lot of respect for him. Later that day he started talking about how much he hated his neighbors. Again he said some wild shit but by this time I thought he was just being edgy or having a really bad time.

A week before Adrian was meant to start his new job, his neighbors (an older couple who lived in a raised house on stilts) were cooking dinner together when a hail of gunfire erupted from under the bamboo floor and riddled them both with bullets. The husband and died instantly but the wife ended up in the hospital for a few weeks before succumbing to her injuries.

The police were called, but it took them a few hours to arrive and they found shell casings but that was it. Rumors started to fly immediately that Adrian had done it, but there was no proof so he just kept on like it was all good. The next time I saw him I politely asked him how he was and he smiled and said something along the lines of "I'm happy now that all of my problems are solved" Which was incredibly uncomfortable.

My bosses at the ngo kept him on in the role since no charges were filed against him. For a few months I would occasionally have to take volunteers and interns down to hang out with him and pretend like I wasn't positive that he was a murderer.

After a few months, he approached the head of the ngo and asked if he could have 2 months pay in advance on the spot, bur wouldn't say why he needed it. Adrian's request was refused and he left without complaint. That was the last time any of us saw him, but it came out that the police hadn't closed their investigation and were closing in on him. He left his wife and kids and just vanished.

Once Adrian had been gone for a while his wife started telling everyone he was a total drop kick and had definitely committed the murder. We all knew it before but that really solidified it. I left the ngo a month of two later and forgot about it until I saw on Facebook last year that his wife had been found strangled in the mangroves near her house.

It's a tiny village with pretty much 0 crime before that happened. I am absolutely positive Adrian came back and killed his wife for talking and I hope they find him and bring him to justice someday.

Username: saynotosealevel

When I was younger and dumber, I got a DUI. Long story short I had a myriad of other charges that were ultimately dropped in exchange for me entering a guilty plea for the dui of which I would serve a total of a 45 day sentence broken into 3 day "weekends".

Quick side note, with hindsight being 20/20 I would highly recommend just getting a sentence like that over with instead of prolonging the experience over 3 months time. I was to report to a facility in Charlottesville, VA.

Because of my unusual sentencing of weekends being served Sunday through Wednesday each week I stayed mostly in a holding cell by myself. You begin to notice patterns and routines of staff and the facilities around you. I noticed after a few weekends that across from me was the same inmate every time and it appeared he was there permanently for the purposes of segregating him.

He seemed to sleep all the time so I never really saw him but when he would be pulled out to shower or go to medical. Never really thought much else about until one day I asked for some reading material and the correction officer looked around and then asked that inmate if he was done with his newspaper so I could read it.

When the C.O. handed me the newspaper the inmates name was on the paper and a note was tucked inside. Lo and behold directly across from me was a local celebrity of sorts, Jesse Matthews. Convicted and accused of the abduction, rape, and murder of several young women all over Virginia. Many of these murders and abductions went years without being solved.

The note he wrote asked me the usual questions of Who are you, where are you from, and why are you here? He also asked me for input on the tv schedule and wrote down a list of the programs he did not want to miss but was otherwise open for input on the other time slots.

I had no real way or desire to exchange my personal information with this 3x convicted capital murder convict. But he would still send his paper over to me every day most always with notes, a kool aid packet, or a sketch of some sort in the folds.

I was there the evening he returned after being convicted of the second or third murder and I had seen earlier that he was handed down an additional life sentence + 100 years or something like that. And to picture this you need to picture him, here comes a shackled 6'7"+ giant black man with dreads down to his back. Convicted murderer, rapist, abductor.

The c.o. asking him if he want his dinner tray. He sighs and in voice at the exact pitch of Cleveland Brown Jr. say "No. I'm going to eat cereal and just wanna watch cartoons." With that the C.O. shuts his cell door. Walks over to the t.v. and puts on Cartoon Network for the rest of the evening.

Username: Jescobeck

I don't know if he was a serial killer, or became one or what happened to him and I forgot his name so I can't check up on it...but... I used to work in an office with shoulder height cubicles.

My cubicle was across the aisle from this guywho worked on my team. His cubicle was a double wide and opened up to where nothing blocked us from each other other than the open aisle.

First he started like any other normal temp (we were all temps to hire) but there was odd things about him. Dress code was business casual and he usually was full business.

He never decorated his cubicle, which was weird because while he is a man and they don't often put up sentimental things, he did have a wife and a newborn son so you'd think there'd be anything....nope. I mean odd, but still can be normal.

Eventually he started showing up to work later and later every time and he'd go out to his car for lunch and stay out there longer and longer. He always carried a briefcase but the nature of our job was entirely digital on our work computer. No idea what was in the briefcase.

It started getting very weird when he'd get calls on his personal phone. I could hear him whispering loudly, like argumentatively, before slamming the phone down on numerous occasions. Then he'd get calls on his work phone and he started to take them while crouching under his desk....which was double weird because I was the only one who could see him and it did nothing to muffle his voice if that's what he was trying to do.

"I can't do that yet"
"I told you I don't get paid until Friday"
"I can't give you everything"
"I'll have it when I have it!"
Some of the things I overheard. I assumed drugs or gambling debts. Maybe both.

Then he started turning around in his chair and just staring at me. Dead look in his eyes, like he was looking through me. Wasn't watching me just... Staring. This happened many times and I was still a teenager so I pretended to not notice him.

That's when the yelling started. He'd start muttering things under his breath, slamming his supplies around, jerking around in his chair, yelling randomly and getting extremely upset over seemingly nothing. Our job was literally cutting and pasting messages from one platform to another. There was no stress.

Until one day a client of ours wasn't showing for a planned event they'd requested where they gave us their vehicle for the value back to pay off their note. So he took it upon himself to call her (not our job) and demand she meet with our agent as soon as possible.

Well later she called our other client who then called our team and wanted to know why we called her. Turns out her husband had just died and they were going through a bankruptcy and his call really upset her. Another team member said "wow that had to have sucked for her.

You lose your husband, your house and now your car" and this guy LOST it. He started an argument with her about how he did nothing wrong. She kept reiterating she never said that, just that it sucked for the lady and he kept going and getting louder and louder before he stormed out.

We both sat down with management and he was fired the next day. So maybe he wasn't a serial killer or a killer at all but extremely volatile and absolutely dangerous I think. Wish I could remember his name.

Username: mindiimok

I was on a university exchange programme with some friends, and we were all staying at different student halls, but I was the only one with a Studio (and so a bit of space) so my place became the de facto place for us to gather and hang out on weekends and stuff.

One night everyone came over and we just watched Netflix until late, and then everyone left. I was tidying up and suddenly occured to me that one of my friends had quite a bit of a walk back to her hall, her route meant she would be walking alone, and it was quite late- maybe I should walk her back? I could still catch up with her so I ran out after her.

Okay then followed a mildly humorous episode where she thought that I was a serial killer / stalker (my keys were in a lanyard around my neck bouncing as I ran and she thought I was a killer who was menacingly jangling his keys) but that’s not the point- it’s what happened on my way BACK.

It’s a small city, and my hall was on a major street, but this late the streets are EMPTY and I mean empty- no cars, no pedestrians, which is why I immediately saw the man. Some mapping: my building is on the right hand side of a street, and just before the building is a traffic junction, where the side road (a slope leading up the hill) meets the main street.

Picking his way down the slope is this man wearing a mask- not a surgical one, a full-faced hard plastic mask. It was white and had the barest implications of human features. I still remember it had blue marker drawings on it. He’s also wearing this ratty jacket with a whole bunch of stuff strapped to / hanging off it. He looked pretty much exactly like a slasher movie character cosplay except it wasn’t really near Halloween.

I also noticed that given our current speeds and trajectories, we’re going to meet at the traffic junction. There is no way to avoid him unless I turn around, cross to the other side of the street, or start running. In all cases he’s going to notice that I’m avoiding him and if he’s a slasher, what if that sets him off? My brain was screaming DON’T DRAW ATTENTION, BE NORMAL. Which is why I did probably the stupidest thing next.

I kept walking, and when I passed him, I saw him stop and turn his head to follow my path. So I said “Hey man” as nonchalantly as I could, and kept walking.

I SWEAR HE FREAKING GROWLED. I tried to keep my pace steady the remaining 10 meters or so until I reached my building. I damn near skipped up those stairs, and triple checked every lock between him and my room. Never saw him again.

Username: fuyuame

I took one on a test drive in a BMW M6. Todd Kohlhepp, was hanging out in the service department one morning waiting in his BMW to be serviced when my GM struck up a conversation with him, and then asked me to take him for a ride in the M6 he was driving as his demo.

It was a cool morning and there was a little mist on the roads, so when I went through an S turn on our test drive route, I had the traction control off and drifted the car through both turns sideways. Todd said wow, and asked me if I was a race car driver. I offered to let him drive and he said no, that he had really seen all he needed to see.

It was a pretty uneventful encounter. I do remember he was wearing like sweatpants and flip flops that day. I do have a very attractive female friend that’s in real estate who had an more bizarre
encounter with him.

Since he was also a real estate agent, they had meet somewhere and he invited her to come out to his shooting range for target practice. She was completely freaked out when it came out that he had kidnapped that girl and held her in that shipping container on that property as a sex slave after killing her fiancé.

I also went to high school with several people that ended up being murderers later in live. One murdered his girlfriend and hid her body under his house and fled to Mexico where he died in a car crash. Another guy got into dealing drugs and ended up going to prison for murder.

One, who was a good friend of mine, got into drugs and made national news when he murdered his own mom with a samurai sword. He ended up committing suicide by cop when he got pulled over during the manhunt.

Another kid we used to play with, that was a neighbor across the street from us at one point, stabbed a store clerk to death in the middle of the night and got away with about $20. He’s still serving time and reading his prison records sounds like he’s completely crazy and will never get out.

I also had a really sweet person live with our family for a while that was murdered. Zilpha Lowery, was featured on the TV series, Cold Case Files. She had dated and lived with a cousin of mine for many years right before she disappeared.

At one time my father who ran a business brought them into our home when my cousin was working for him. They were there for probably 6 months or so. My cousin was a suspect for a little while since they had recently broken up. Super sad what happened to her because she really was one of the nicest people you would ever meet.

Username: LuckyCaptainCrunch

Was a correctional officer for a few years, dealt several of them. Can't give names, frankly they were just "occupant of cell #XXX" to me anyway, I wasn't there to make friends. They seemed to have one thing in common, they were manipulative.

They usually worked to try to get us to let our guard down and to ingratiate themselves with us. They struck me as kind of creepy, but that could have been more from my knowing what they were in for. I personally believe they were all clinically psychopathic as well, but I only know directly that one was certified as such.

Their methods were different, one tried to pass himself off as a "regular Joe", asking questions to ferret out info on the guards by talking about sports teams, asking the usual conversational questions, then try to act concerned about our families, if we had kids, etc. Sounded friendly but obvious he was trying to build a knowledge base to use later.

The other tried to pass himself off as a friendly, kind of goofy guy, and he was the worst offender in my book. Spoiler to protect the sensitive readers. >!He was a serial rapist and murderer of toddlers. !<

The last one that comes to mind I found the most interesting, and considered the most dangerous to be around. He was a chameleon of sorts. He had an instinctive ability to "read" people, and adjust his attitude and interaction with them to fit that.

I watched him change his demeanor, body language, and tone of voice almost instantly as he interacted with different people. It was like he was a totally different person each time. We were given a briefing on him when he arrived, for officer safety.

He was a medically diagnosed psychopath, with no conscience or empathy for others at all. He never gave us any trouble directly, but given the opportunity and incentive, would not hesitate to kill without a second thought, to him it was no different than squashing a bug. He entertained himself by manipulating other inmates into fighting among themselves, and tried to do the same with the officers, but far less successfully. As to how it felt being around them? -shrug-

Not really any different than being around any of the other murderers, rapists, and gang members, etc. really. Just used extra precautions here and there as warranted. Frankly they were the easier inmates to manage, and generally gave us the least trouble. It was just part of the job, and interaction with them was no different than any other inmate, either.

Username: Faelwolf

After grandad died we found out he killed multiple people in his youth. For like nothing. He didn’t even do prison for them. He did go to prison fir running over the police officer who was looking into him and reversing over him.

He used to brag how after he did his prison they offered him a job i the police because he had balls. He did 2 years for the police officer and 8 years for tax evasion and theft /fraud. The people he killed didn’t get justice at all

I dunno if classes as a serial killer though was 4 people we know of. He was an abusive father and husband. Also a crook type gangster who would make big money by ripping people off. Laundering money fir drug dealers and old gangsters through his building yards in the 50s and 60s.

He started with a legitimate building company and got greedy. Even in his old age he ripped off his sons and anyone else. Dealt with cash deals. Selling property then refusing to hand over deeds and refusing to admit he took payment.

He still had a building business where he would con people do a half job over priced usually not finish it and disappear with the money. He also sold guns for a while. N who knows what else he was full of schemes.

He also took a cut of anything his sons did. One dealt heroin and he took a cut. The other did property like nightclubs and pubs and the 3rd did similar to him with a building business grandad got payments.

He was a loving grandad though. Funny. Full of stories kind cuddly read us books played with us took us to the coast pocket money etc. Normal grandad stuff he just didn’t look like a grandad. He wore expensive suits lots of gold rings and gold teeth at the back smoked cigars all my friends were nervous if him.

Totally different to what he was with his kids who he belted and beat to toughen them up. Really evil towards grandma while they were together. But us grandkids he was different especially the granddaughters. He would dote on.

When he died there were 100s of people at the funeral. 100s. I wasn’t sure if just were happy he was gone and just checking he was dead. Really surreal funeral some very odd people some shady people and some really nice people.

Was strange to see such a mix. Some had lovely stories of how kind he was back in the day helping people out and their families and how generous he was then others just didn’t want to say.

Username: Crunchie2020

I used to deliver food for a small delivery company in a big city. Wound up becoming the manager. The guy who was the manager before me was moving to a different city, but he was training me for management before he left for the West Coast.

We'll call him "K". K was always floating around major cities in the U.S., but he would only ever stay around for a few months at a time, and then he'd relocate. He was the "caretaker" of a property in my city. The property was a shit hole that should have been condemned.

He would let homeless people crash there rent-free or with very very low rent. He was always hiring homeless people or vagrants to be delivery drivers for us while he was a manager. He said it was to "help them out". All of K's friends were homeless/hobos/prostitutes.

He used to run an unauthorized taxi service on the side, and all of his clients were street prostitutes. His best friend was a vagrant delivery guy, his name was "B". They were inseparable. If they weren't physically together - they were on the phone together. My manager training shifts with K, he'd be on the phone with B the entire 8 hour shift. B worked for a restaurant that my good friend was a manager for.

I became friendly with a lot of the vagrants that K hired to deliver for us, and even some of the down-trodden people who lived in K's property. In the span of a couple months, a lot of the hobo delivery guys that K hired mysteriously disappeared.

A couple people who lived in K's property stopped coming around... Finally, "B" disappeared without a trace. When my friend and I heard that B was missing, we told K we should call the cops. He was very insistent that we don't call the cops. He didnt seem concerned at all that his best friend disappeared without a trace.

I asked my friend who managed the restaurant B delivered for what happened to B. He said he just stopped showing up to work. He also said B had never been late or called out before. A week after B disappeared, K moved to a different city and cut ties with all of us.

There was a lot of other circumstantial details surrounding K that made him look like a serial killer. It got to the point where me and my friend who also knew K almost put a tip in with the FBI. I haven't seen K in over a decade, but I still would bet money on him being a serial killer. Everyone who knew him swears by it too.

Username: BreadKancer

Not me but my mom encountered Samuel Little back in the 70s here in Maryland. She was in her early 20s and out with friends. Thankfully 3 of those friends were guys and in the army.

Her and her 4 female friends had just arrived at a bar that was between Laurel and Jessup but we're still waiting for their 3 male friends who were in the Army. So she was going to wait outside but to the side of the building with one of the girls while the other 2 went in to grab a table.

She doesn't know how long they were outside but she would say it was probably 15 minutes or so when this guy came up to them. My mom said she got bad feelings about him, and because she worked for a government agency back then (and was trained to read people and situations) she grabbed onto her friends arm and started taking steps back towards the front of the bar where the doors were.

She said they only got a few feet when he went to grab my mom. She started yelling to draw attention to the situation but she doesn't feel like people noticed, cared or heard because it was a loud area and even today people love to turn blind eyes to things.

The two of them started to push and kick at him when they finally heard guys running up. It was their male friends who had just pulled in. One of the guys got a punch onto Little, and the sick bastard took off. No one chased him. 😑

She stayed friends with 1 of the guys until her death so I did ask him once why the 3 guys didn't go after him. He said they just wanted to make sure the girls were safe, and going after him could have jeopardized their jobs.

Many years later he said he did regret it but they didn't know he was a serial killer, they just thought he was trying to force himself on to them (which isn't great either).

When he was finally arrested my mom didn't put the 2 together until the news showed a picture of him as he was back then. A few months prior to her death in 2019 she did speak to authorities because they believe he killed a few women in the same area he attacked my mom in (1 he did confess to in PG County).

They asked for people to come forward, so she did and so did the male friend. If her friends got held up for even 5 minutes I might not even be here today. If she decided to go inside the bar instead of wait outside he could've attacked a different woman that night.

Username: DestinyFox1

I worked the night shift in a plant for awhile after high school. A couple of years before I got there a guy had gone nuts and shot the place up then committed suicide in the parking lot. One of the longtime employees told me the story (and showed me chips in the concrete floor from the bullets).

One of the guys I worked with at the plant was this big bodybuilder/biker guy who was very intimidating looking, but was a really friendly guy. He took the majority of my teenage angst with a grain of salt, and would always be sure to help out whenever somebody needed a hand lifting something or figuring out part of the job.

A few years after I left I was visiting another friend who had worked there with me and out of the blue he says "Oh! Did you hear about [biker guy]?"; he went on to tell me the guy had recently had a falling out with his longtime girlfriend because she had been cheating on him. He went to the ex's apartment one night and shot her and her new boyfriend in front of her daughter.

Then he went into the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife and tried to slit his own throat. My former co-worker had recorded an excerpt from the trial on VHS that aired on a local news station and I can tell you it was one of the scariest things I've seen (and I've seen some pretty crazy shit).

He had giant thick scars all over his throat, and his face was completely blank. The look of absolutely no emotion on his face is what struck me so hard, as before he was almost always jovial and emoted heavily with his face.

Not a killer, but a friend of mine was living in some apartments with her boyfriend, and often woke during the night. She thought she heard a noise outside and peeked out the window and there was a guy standing outside her apartment peeking in the window. She called the cops and they arrested the man and later on a cop came up to her and said something along the lines of "You're a very lucky young lady.

This guy is a known serial rapist who we've been trying to prosecute, but have not had enough evidence."; the guy had rubber gloves, rope, a kitchen knife, and condoms in his possession when they caught him. I hear he was released eventually because they did not have enough evidence again because the only crime he was committing was peeping at the time.

Username: [deleted]

In late 99 early 2000 I worked at the Kenworth truck plant in South Seattle. I was like a $7 an hour security guard, checking people in and out of the front gate. Nothing really happened on the job and it was pretty boring. It's where I first started reading Harry Potter.

It's also where I first started playing pokémon with another security guard named Damien. We would just sit in our booth which had a little picnic table in it and just play pokémon our whole shift.

Gary worked there as well. I think he worked in the paint line, but it was a long time ago. I don't remember that detail. I do remember he was super friendly. He was soft-spoken, but would talk to us when he arrived and when he left. At one point he asked us what we were doing when we were playing pokémon. We explained it to him and he nodded with a little interest and went on his way.

Over the next couple days he kept stopping and talking a little more until one day after his shift. He sat down and actually played with us. For the next couple weeks, he would stop and play a couple of matches each day after work.

Like I said, super nice guy. We talked a lot about popular culture, what we were watching on TV and what kind of music we listen to. He was a big Fleetwood Mac guy.

I am with my. He got apprehended about a year later. Quit working at Kenworth by then, and moved back to Eastern Washington. I remember it being on the news and they said his name and showed a picture of him, and I was pretty flabbergasted. I mean, I grew up in the area where he was actively killing.

Granted I was not a female nor a prostitute, but there was still this weird aura surrounding the Green River and not wanting to go down there. I remember there was the Oh boy Alberto jerky factory down by the Green River and my dad would like to take us there. Even going there, in the vicinity I would get kind of scared.

To think this is the guy that caused me to get scared then, the same guy I played pokémon with, really blew my mind. Makes me wonder. Who around me today is a serial killer? I just don't know it. I played Pokemon with the Green River Killer.

Username: SkippyBoJangles

I met a child who will become a serial killer one day. I'm sure of it. This was about 10 years ago, so he would be around 15 now. This child was demetented. He attended a preschool I worked at, and he reveled in the suffering of his classmates.

At five years old, the meanest thing one kid can say to another is, "You're not invited to my birthday party this year!" It cuts deep. But this child, the Antichrist, had a malicious sense of humor that you do not see in other kids that age.

We had a child misplace his favorite plushie - it was his world. Poor kid was sobbing, absolutely heartbroken. His mom had gotten him down to sniffles when the Antichrist walked over and said, "I know where your teddy bear is!"

The kids' eyes light up through the tears and he said "You do? Where??" Then the Antichrist sneered at the boy and said, "Oh, just kidding. He's gone." And the other boy's face completely crumpled as his sobs renewed. The Antichrist walked away laughing.

I also saw the Antichrist attack another child. If you have worked with kids or have them in your life, you know the pitch difference between a playful scream and a terrified scream. I was inside helping clean up after snack when I heard a scream from the playground that made my blood run cold. I ran outside to find which kid was seriously not ok.

There was the Antichrist, both hands closed fist wailing on another child he had backed into a corner. Punch after punch right into the face, and the other kid was screaming for his life. I ran over and grabbed the Antichrist by the arms, pulling him off the other boy.

The other boy was too scared to move and was hunched into a ball, still screaming. A coworker ran out to attend him while I held onto the Antichrist as he began kicking the hell out of my shins. I was the one who got in trouble for "mishandling a child in my care."

I knew there was some home stuff going on - his parents were divorcing and his older sister had a severe chronic illness that needed a lot of attention. But damn this kid is going to make headlines some day for the wrong reasons.

Username: findthefish14

Not me but my dad used to work with one. The guy he met was older than a lot of people in the shop they worked in but he was very polite and respectful of the other coworkers. One of the coworkers used to pick on him a lot but my dad and the other stuck up for the older man.

My dad always thought he was a sweet man but then he saw him on the news, arrested for murdering his ex girlfriend, chopping her up to pieces, and scattering the parts all over the place. Police connected two other murders to the man.

My dad said he felt sick to his stomach because he thought he was the most kind, sweet man and to know he was capable of murdering several people and act like nothing’s wrong made him lose a lot of faith in people.

The coworker who picked on him was very pale when he found out, especially since he was sure that he might’ve been his next victim. From what I can tell, all of his victims has some kind of personal connection.

They called him Razor Ramon in the shop and my dad had a hard time finding him or articles because he only knew him as Ramon. He just knew his name and that he’s currently in San Quentin. Cut to last month when he brings it up again because we were discussing death row inmates for something unrelated.

I looked through some and I found someone whose crimes match the one my dad described. I showed him several photos of different guys who has similar names and he picked him out like a needle in the haystack. He recognized the smile on the man’s face because he always smiled when my dad clocked in for work.

The worst thing was that I found several Reddit posts made by one user who was his foster sister. Their mom disappeared but she’s adamant that she witnessed Ramon murder their mom and he was helped by some other people.

I don’t remember her username but my dad did confirm that there was rumors that he killed his foster mom but they couldn’t prove anything. His actual name is Ramon Jay Rogers, although he sometimes went with Raymond. He’s on murderpedia in case anyone wants to look him up.

Username: imbobothefool