Chapter 1:
Why You're Reading This Book

        It's no accident that you're reading this book.
        Nothing in this life ever happens by chance. There's a reason for everything.
        You've picked up this book because you were meant to read it. This isn't chance. It's fate.
        Most people walk right by this book. It means nothing to them. But you were drawn to this book for a reason: It's all about me. And you. And the people I've killed. And the people I will kill, including you.
        Don't think you can hand this book to someone else and have it mean anything. It's not them I want to kill. It's you.
        Years ago, you laughed at me; you called me creep and looked down at me.
        You, and the other scum, treated me badly and scarred me forever. All of you ruined my life.
        Now, it's payback time.
        Congratulations, you made my hit list.

        In fact, you're one of the few people on my list that I haven't killed yet.
        But you deserve to die and I've plenty of time to track you down and kill you.
        I intend to do so soon.

        And, thanks to the cash-upfront deal I signed with this shitty little publisher, I now also have enough money to live on while I come after you and my other remaining subjects.

        Why Manor House Publishing?
        The question should really be: Why not?
        They're the only publisher that didn't turn me down, that didn't reject my idea of a book based on my diary of past recollections, retributions and my completely justified killing campaign.

        Manor House was the only one that didn't insist on meeting me and knowing my real name. And they gave me a nice chunk of cash up front (but I won't be getting any royalties - I can't give them an address to send the money to).

        The publisher asked me to write about my kills, about my life story in as much detail as I care to provide.
Apparently there's likely to be strong readership interest in all of this.
I'm told the public is pretty much always fascinated to get a chance to get inside the mind of killer and see what makes him tick, see if they can unravel the mystery in all this, see if they can figure out who I'll hit next and where I'll strike - define my hunting territory.

        So this book is a hodge podge of stuff I've remembered, things burned into my memory, anecdotes, recollections, thoughts.
        In revisiting my notes and memories I'm reliving the past.
        And it only makes me more convinced than ever that more people will have to die to atone for the wrong they did to me. I believe that deep down, they know they don't deserve to live.

        You know you don't deserve life after your cruelty toward me.
        I'm going to rip the life force from your body and leave your corpse on the ground.
        Your departing spirit and I will stand together briefly and look at your body.
        How will your body look lying on the ground? Peaceful? Grotesque?
        You'll be complete and I'll move on to the next one on my list.
        But I'm getting ahead of myself…

        Obviously my name isn't really I. Murderman. That would be a little too easy for the cops, who have a nasty habit of getting close to me before I move on to my next subject. I have no desire to get caught.
        Murderman is my pen name.
        The publisher doesn't like it and suggested I go with I. Redrum since redrum is murder spelled backwards.

        But the redrum thing has been done before - and I think Murderman gets the point across more effectively.         It's what I do. It's what I am.
        And you're about to learn, personally, how good I am at killing.
        I want you dead. I honestly can't wait for you to die.
        Feeling a cold chill down your spine? Good. Get used to it. It'll soon get worse.

        Despite the Murderman pen name, I don't consider myself a murderer.
        I'm not just killing for the sake of killing. I have a true sense of purpose and legitimate reasons for taking lives.

        With God's help, I'm bringing about long overdue justice. I'm making my half-formed subjects complete by settling old scores and righting past wrongs.

        Only in death can you and the others regain the innocence you once had, before you indulged in your vicious treatment of me.

        I'm performing long-overdue valid retributions, not senseless, cold-blooded murders.
        In fact, I feel a great deal when I kill: Exhilaration, relief, and a rush of pure adrenalin. Sometimes, I've even felt some remorse.
        But I know it's necessary that the past acts of my subjects and the subjects themselves be cleansed from existence. And my mission continues.

        You will soon come to realize that your lack of punishment for calling me creep and ridiculing me has left a void in your own life, an empty place in your soul.
        I intend to fill that void. I intend to complete you by taking your life.
        And I will. I have all the time and money and desire necessary to carry out this task.

        More importantly, I have this book.
        And I strongly suggest you read every word I've written.
        It may save your life.

        Maybe if you read this entire book, you'll get an understanding of how and why I've been pushed by people like you to kill again and again and again. And again.

        And maybe you'll also get to know me and realize what a reasonable person I really am.
        I hope you'll soon come to understand that my actions are nothing more than a very reasonable response to the way I've been treated. I'm actually pretty normal.

        Maybe too, you'll be able to use this insightful knowledge to figure out who I am and what makes me tick.

        Then, maybe you can figure out what to say or do to save yourself and improve our relationship. And make no mistake: We do already have a relationship: Hunter and prey.

        However, this basic relationship could possibly change and become more meaningful (and possibly a lot healthier for you) if you take the time to understand where I'm coming from.

        I have to admit; I might have spared a couple of my tormenters - my subjects - had these people at least remembered me from school.
        But, no sooner did I start feeling sorry for them than my sadness turned to rage. How could they not remember their nasty treatment of me?
        How could they not even remember me at all?
        How could they lie there, bleeding, dying, and just look at me when I asked them if they'd like to apologize for what they did?
        Don't they have any sense of shame, of guilt, of remorse? What's wrong with them?

        But you'll have an advantage over these dead people: Even if you don't know me now, you will by the time you finish reading this book.
        That may give you enough crucial information to save yourself.
        At the very least, if I do kill you, the experience will be a lot more meaningful for both of us.

        You probably already have an idea of who I am. And by the time you finish reading this book, you may feel you know for sure.

        It doesn't matter if you figure out my identity. The police will only laugh at you if you tell them your life is danger, and         then hand them my book as evidence.

        The funny thing is, your life really is in danger. But by the time anyone takes you seriously, I'll be very, very close to where you live and the end of your life will be at hand. At my hand.

        But don't expect me to come right out and tell you who I am.
        Police in several jurisdictions are investigating some of my past retributions (cops call them murders), and I actually physically bumped into a cop at one of the retribution scenes.
        Although I was able to easily talk my way out of it (I guess I don't look all that dangerous; I look pretty normal, average), I don't feel comfortable having the police so near to me, asking stupid questions, so I began moving around a lot.

        Thanks to the advance cash I received from Manor House Publishing, I have more than enough money to keep moving and stay one step ahead of the cops while I pursue my destiny and take the long overdue revenge I'm fully entitled to.

        This revenge is necessary for myself and my subjects. I need it to regain lost self-esteem.
        You and my other subjects need it to atone for past wrongs, and what could be nobler than you giving up your life to compensate for your evil past behaviour?

        Sometimes I think the cops are going to suddenly see the big picture.
        But most cops, like most people everywhere, are actually quite stupid. They can't patterns, killing strategies. They can't see the forest for the trees.

        But sometimes the cops get close.
        It's like they're right beside me sometimes, breathing my air, looking inside me.
        But that's probably just a feeling. They don't know what's going on. Otherwise, they would have found me and stopped me a long time ago.

        I'm not worried. I like to use a variety of methods for scoring each kill, so there's no pattern and the cops likely have no idea that my retributions are the work of one individual.
        But while I'm not worried, I'm not going to make it easy for anyone to find me.

        I expect you'll finally figure it all out when it's too late.
        It's funny, I can actually picture you crossing the street and suddenly putting it all together and realizing who I am - only to find me standing in front of you, or behind you, with a knife or a sharpened screw driver or a gun. It's the last thing you'll ever see.

        I've been watching you for some time now. For me, that's normal. I like to take my time before making the kill.
        Sometimes I'll even endeavour to prime my subjects with phone calls or "chance" meetings to let them experience a steady build-up of terror before I complete them.

        But maybe I won't have to complete you, after all.
        Maybe you'll find something in this book that will reveal a way you can save yourself.
        A grovelling apology won't be nearly enough. It won't do it.
        But it's a start. I don't know what else might make a difference. I don't know what might be enough to spare you from the fate of my other subjects.
        But perhaps you'll be able to figure it out for yourself once you read my story.

        You'll want to read quickly: I'm already in town - and I know where you live. I may even be watching you read this book right now.
        We'll meet soon, I promise you.

        My story is taken from entries in my diary, recollections, thoughts and anecdotes, experiences painfully burned forever in my memory.
        These are my reflections on the things that shaped my life, made me who I am today.
        Yes, my life of pain is laid out before you in the pages of this book.

        I haven't included everything.
        But there's enough in this book that you'll probably recognize both of us.
        All I'm feeling right now is a gnawing hunger, an all-consuming, overwhelming desire to make you dead.
        I know you better than you know yourself and I want to kill you so badly I can hardly stand it.

        You bring this out in me. You know you do.
        Or maybe you don't realize how much teasing and ridicule of a child can forever adversely affect their self-esteem, cause         real and lasting damage to their psyche.
        But ignorance of the implications of your actions is no excuse. At least it's not an excuse that will save your life.
        You'll have to do much, much better than that.
        You're going to have to figure out who I am and why I want to kill you.
        Then you're going to have to try and figure out a way to stop me or find a way to get me to change my mind.

        I'll be frank with you: You make me want to kill, and I am driven to be near you, to draw ever closer to you, to watch you more intently, to move in slowly and carefully for the kill.

        I can almost taste your blood as it splatters against my mouth. I hate it when that happens, but it always does when you work a knife or a sharpened screw driver at close quarters.

        Can you imagine our meeting?
        I can almost hear your partly muffled screams, your rasping, dying gasps as the last breath of life leaves your collapsing body.

        Maybe you'll find a way to save yourself.
        Or you can die trying.
        I don't really care one way or the other right now.

        But if you're even the slightest bit interested in the slim possibility you may be able to save your own life, I suggest you keep reading…

Learning to kill

You take something living
Then you kill, make it dead
Yes, practice makes perfect
It's easy if you try

If you're not learning to kill
You may be learning to die
We all make choices
Help me to decide
If you should live or should die

Teacher has a lesson
What a thrill, what a thrill
Now I'm really learning
I'm learning how to kill

And now it's really easy
Doesn't bother me at all

Teacher has a lesson
What a thrill, what a thrill
Now I'm really learning
I'm learning how to kill