Picking our first victim seemed as right as going to church on Sunday.

Oh, what ecstasy setting fires brings to my body! What power I feel at the thought of fire!...Oh, what pleasure, what heavenly pleasure!

Most fires crackle and pop, but that's not really the fire talking, it's the wood. To hear the fire itself you need a huge blaze like this one, a furnace so powerful it roars with its own wind. I crouched as close as I dared and listened to its voice, a whispered howl of joy and rage.

From all accounts, Ted Bundy had been a good looking and charming man. How many women had he tricked into his van, raped, and then killed?

It doesn't escape him that the rock holding it up is the perfect fit for his fist. Or how easily one of those needle spokes would slide right through the girl's eye like Jell-O.

I knew–though I didn't recognize the fact–that I wasn't all right.