ICEMAN KILLER YOU MAD ME MAD TRIAL

ICEMAN KILLER YOU MAD ME MAD TRIAL

But it’s been years since Kuklinski was first apprehended and with all of the publicity that his trial received, I found it hard to believe that these tapes had yet to surface in one form or another.

Of course, the FBI is infamous for denying that this sort of stuff exists (they’re the same agency that claims there’s no such thing as snuff films and we all know that’s a bunch of bullshit). The storage compartment itself was even noted on their search-invoice, but FBI officials insisted that they never recovered the tapes in question. But when the FBI raided the home after his arrest, no such box of tapes was found. You want to scream, but every time you try, one of them digs inside your mouth and starts to chew on your tongue.īut here’s the part that I could never quite swallow: Kuklinski claimed he had kept copies of the camcorder footage in a box stashed in a hidden storage compartment in his house. They go for the softest parts first: eyes, lips, genitals. Then the others realize you’re not going anywhere and, all at once, the rest will swarm you. It’s painful, but nothing you can’t survive. At first, only a few of them will venture forth to start nibbling on your arm or an ear. He would then leave a camcorder on a tripod - a nice one with motion-detection and a night-vision lens - there to record the whole thing, so the client who had ordered the hit could appreciate the process in all its gory detail….Īs the rawhide dries, its grip on you grows tighter and tighter until you can barely breathe, which is almost a blessing by this point because at least you can’t smell the stench of the rats as they begin to approach you. He would wrap his victim up with strips of it until they were completely immobilized. Knowing that rats were omnivores and scavengers by nature, Kuklinski discovered that he could get these big fuckers to eat just about anything as long as it stayed still enough hence the wet rawhide.

How big? Picture a big rat… They were bigger than that. Next he would strip his victim naked, bind them in wet rawhide, and then cover them in cow’s blood before leaving them at the mouth of a secluded cave that Kuklinski had discovered when he was just starting out as a hitman.Īs with most of the caves in this part of Pennsylvania, Kuklinski’s cavern was home to a particularly nasty variety of Rattus Norvegicus, which is Fancy Pants for “rats.” Big fucking rats. Kuklinski’s specialty was “making them suffer.” And how he did this was simple: He would abduct his target, incapacitate them with either chloroform or sodium pentothal, and then drive them deep into the Pennsylvania wilderness. Like with the case of infamous hitman Richard Kuklinski or, as he’s better known, “The Ice Man”. Of course, there are some things that are so inherently fucked that I can’t let them go, no matter how much I write about it. More importantly, I can reason with them. I put them in the form of a story because that way I can control them. I try to give the horrors of the real world a narrative. Let’s be honest it can get pretty dark out there at times and whenever I come across something particularly disturbing, writing about it is basically my security blanket. So why does every story that I write resemble a sleep aid-induced nightmare a mad man might have after eating a lot of weird cheeses? The simple answer? Because horror is how I make sense of the world. I’m always cracking jokes and I’m usually the first one to remind others not to take things too seriously. As a person, I am generally a pretty cheery motherfucker. People think because I write scary stories, that means I must be some kind of twisted bastard who spends all of his time sitting around dreaming up horrible things and the truth is that’s only half right.

Iceman killer you mad me mad