Sobriety Broken

1 ~ Addiction

15 years ago, our daughter was killed.

Adeline Rose, that was her name.

Ever since I can remember, I knew I wanted to be a husband. A father. I wanted to be someone's entire universe, and I wanted someone to be mine.

I didn't have a great home life as a kid. I never knew my father, my mother was a self-destructive and emotionally abusive alcoholic with an expiration date due to her cancer, and she didn't exactly know how to pick viable male role models for her boyfriends.

She dated an abusive piece of shit that nearly killed the both of us, and successfully killed my little sister. She dated a man that seemed decent for a few years, until he got ahold of the object of his pedophiliac desires; me. She dated a man who killed another man over a vendetta against a female. Finally, right before she died, she dated a wonderful man.

I think in a way, all of these events made me want to be a husband and a father even more. It gave me this burning desire to provide to someone the things I yearned for as a kid; love, compassion, loyalty.

I was about 15 when this man came into our lives. This man in an ex-biker, ex-drug dealer, and an ex-murderer. While not sounding like a winner on the surface, the men he murdered in cold blood were pedophiles and baby-killers. After hearing my story, he decided to kill both of my abusers. He wasn't at all shy about the fact that he was going to do it. He offered for me to come along even.

At first the thought made me shutter. I let him kill my first abuser all on his own, being that I was so little I barely remembered almost being killed in the first place, I didn't exactly have a high ranking grudge against him enough to watch him be brutally tortured. 

Then he informed me he was going to kill my molester. That's when my addiction started. 

My addiction to murder.

I decided to tag along. I had absolutely no problem with watching that man suffer the way I did. I actually had a craving to witness the event. He told me I wouldn't have to be involved, I could even step out if I needed, and he also offered the option to take some of my own aggression out on him, and assist with the murder.

We arrived at the man's house late at night, around 11:30 or so, on January 17th of 1994.

The murder took place similar to something you might see on television.

We started by cutting the main power line to the house, making sure it would be absolutely pitch black in case anyone were to see us. We used various tools to break the door knob to the back door of the house and open the door, instead of kicking it in to be sure we were undetected. We went through the house looking around to be sure that there was no one else in the house, and there wasn't.

We marched and searched through the rest of the house until we found the man asleep in his bed.

His room was terrifying.

There were clothes scattered everywhere. Some were his own, and some appeared to be the clothes of children. Bikini's from little girls, t-shirts and underwear from little boys.

He had little decoration in the room. No wall coverage, no bed frame, just a mattress on the floor. Not even any sheets.

The hygiene in the place was atrocious. The toilet connected to the room is so stained and destroyed, it almost looks like it is meant to be a pale brown and green colour.

Among searching the room I found a photo album.

In the album there were many scarring pictures.

He had photos of him raping children, children sleeping with each other, children naked by themselves, and to my surprise, pictures of him raping the bodies of bloody and dead children.