It was a stormy October Evening. I made myself a nice cup of tea and sat down in my favorite chair to read Stone Carvers latest book. I got the recommendation out of this month’s edition of Writers Magazine. Stone Carver has always been my favorite Novelist.

I must have dozed off, because I was awakened by footsteps walking around upstairs. This would be nothing odd, if I wasn’t living on my own, you see.

At first, I figured it might have been just my imagination. I took a sip of the now cold tea and concentrated on the silence in the house.
After five minutes I heard the footsteps again, this time they seemed to be walking around in the room I call my office, though it’s nothing more than just a table with stacks of old bills, newspaper clippings and pens and pencils cluttering it up.
I got up and walked into the kitchen to grab the 2×4 I kept behind the cellar door.
Nothing ever happens out here, not of any serious nature anyways.
Maybe kids letting the chickens out of Farmer Bens coop, or some Fox trying to find dinner for himself and his family, but nothing more than that.
I slowly walked up the stairs. Halfway to the top I stopped again and listened.Once again, silence had fallen over the house.
At first I reached around the corner to turn the bathroom light on, as I looked around I nothing unusual, even that pile of dirty laundry I’ve been meaning to get to was still piled next to the bathtub.

I shut the light back off and went towards my bedroom. Once again I turned on the light. I stepped inside and noticed a pair of muddy footprints leading towards the balcony door.
All of the sudden I heard a loud crash. I raced to my window and saw that a tree had fallen onto the shed. “Great!”, I thought, ” I’ll have to call Mr. Linden and have him fix the roof again!!”.
During last years big storm my small Oak tree had crashed into the roof and he was nice enough to fix it for me and save the cost of having a professional come out here to do it. He told me if I needed any other roofing work done, to just give him a call. He used to run his own roofing company, but he’s 75 years old now, and the work had gotten to be too much for him. He only did smaller jobs for a friendly neighborhood service. He didn’t even expect to be paid for it, but everybody gave him whatever they could afford anyways, just as a little thank you.

But now back to my unusual story.

I went over to the balcony door and slid it open. The wind was blowing strong out there and it took me a second to decide if I should step outside. I turned around to make sure no one was behind me inside the room. My eyes scanned the room very quickly and there I saw it, on my mirror, in small but still very readable letters it said: “Sory four dizturbink you”. It looked like it was written in permanent marker. “I will check that out later,” I told myself.

I went outside and looked over the railing into my yard. I saw something moving in the bushes. I quickly went over to the steps leading down and walked over towards the spot that I really haven’t been tending to since my arthritis has been getting worse.

I stopped for a brief moment and listened to any noise, but the wind was gusting so hard, tossing leafs off the trees, moving everything that wasn’t tied down. It was really hard to make out anything, I moved closer towards the shrubs and heard a faint but distinct to make out: “EEEEK!!!”.

“Who goes there?” I yelled into the blustery weather. “Me!” I heard a thin, tiny voice answering me.

“Come out now before I whack you over the head with this chunk of wood”

“Please don’t hurt me! Promise me you won’t hurt me!” I heard the leafs crunch in the undergrowth.

“I won’t hurt you unless you try something unwise.” I lifted the 2×4 a little higher.

The bush began to move a little harder now and I heard more leafs crackling. When I saw what stepped out of there I dropped my makeshift bat and my mouth stood open for a moment.

“Wha-what are you?” I finally said. I was looking at a two foot tall person, no, not a person, it looked like one of them dwarfs out of my granddaughters fairytale books, but without cloths. It had pointy little ears, and its eyes looked like those of a bird, maybe an owl.
It had greenish skin from what I could make out with the little bit of light that the kitchen window let stream out.

“I’ve been living here for years,” it said. “My name is Mico. I got scared of the storm and thought you were asleep. I only wanted to hide in that big room with the paper mountain until it was over. When your wife was still here she always let me stay up there during the bad weather.”

“You mean Vicky knows about you?” I said in disbelief.

“Yes” little Mico said. “She knew the others too, but they have gone up into the woods when she left in that big noise making machine. She said she would be back in a couple of months because her mother had fallen sick and she was going to take care of her. She has been gone for so long now. Will she come back?” he asked me.

“Uuum, yes she will, her mother is still not better.” I answered quickly.

I started to notice how cold it has gotten in the rain. I was a little weary of what to do next, but I decided if this little “thing” knew so much about my Vicky it can’t be anything bad. Vicky was a little ‘off” as some people would put it, always daydreaming and talking to the plants out in the yard, but she wasn’t crazy. And if she was, and it had rubbed off on me, then it is too late now anyways, i thought.

“Ok, I’m getting cold out here”, I said to the creature, “why don’t we go inside and warm up a little bit. I will have to make a phone call and you can sit in there and tell me a little more about yourself.”

That must have been just what he (or was it a she?) wanted to hear, because it ran ahead as fast as it’s little feet could carry it and then waited under the overhang right outside the kitchen door.

“That door is locked from the inside”, I said. “Let’s go through the Bedroom” and I pointed up the steps.

“No, Mico not want to do that!” it blurted out. “Did you see the mess I left on your fluffy floor already?”

“Okay, stay here and I will be right there to open the door for you” I said as I was heading up the stairs. I didn’t want to make it a bigger mess either, since I don’t have a clue on how to clean carpets at all. Vicky always took care of those things.

I let Mico into the door, and he knew exactly what to do. He wiped his little feet that were just as green as the rest of it’s body, on the towel that sat next to the door.

“I just want to stay here until the storm is gone”, it said. “I will go sit by the paper mountain and wait”, and the creature headed for the stairs.

“Wait” I called after it. “I don’t really think you have to sit up there if you don’t want to anymore. I’m sure Vicky only put you there so I wouldn’t have a fit or something.”

Its big eyes looked at me and blinked a couple of times.

“Seriously”, I said “go over there through that door and sit at the couch.”

Its eyes followed my pointing finger and then looked back at me. “Couch?”, it asked.

I couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, that big poufy looking thing in there, go ahead, go in there, you will know what I’m talking about.”

Micos little feet pitter pattered across the tile floor. Just before he went through the door it turned around one more time with a questionable look.

I had picked up the phone to call my wife. She was in Portland, Oregon to be with her mother who was very sick for the last 3 months or so now. I nodded at Mico, “Go on.” I said.

I dialed the number to my mother in laws house, but the phone just kept ringing. She must be in the hospital with her mom. Sometimes when her mom got really bad, Vicky stayed the nights with her. I hung the phone back up and went into the living room.

“Mico, are you a boy or a girl?” I asked him while stepping into the living room. I didn’t get an answer. I looked towards the couch. Mico was laying on it, flat on his back, mouth wide open, snoring away! I noticed how late it has gotten and I felt quite tired myself all of the sudden.

I unfolded a blanket lying on the floor next to the couch and covered Mico up with it.

“I guess I will find out about you tomorrow” I yawned and went upstairs. As I walked into the bedroom I noticed the writing on the mirror again. “Yes, and I will have to find out who taught you how to spell too”, I thought and fell into my bed, clothes still on, but I didn’t care at the time!

I woke up around 7 am, a bit confused from the restless night I had. I stretched and yawned loudly. Suddenly I heard a small giggle from the corner of my room.
I sat up and saw the little creature    

 ………………………… this is where it stops …………………… I assume I meant to write a lot more than that at the time but must have ran out of ideas, time or whatever it was at the time. 🙂 


Black is beautiful

People misconcep the Color Black, a lot. Black is the color that develops when you mix EVERY COLOR together. BLACK absorbs every color out there, it draws colors towards it, no negativity at all. It’s a shade of the most vivid and constantly changing ocean of eye orgasms.
You see black as Sadness? See it as Happy. You see black as Grief? See it as Relief. You see black as Cold? It’s of the most comforting Temperature you have ever felt. Not only does it absorb and contain every single color in this universe, it also absorbs  “you”. Surrounds you with protection and comfort.
The only reason why black scares people is because they have to rely on only limited senses, which are your hearing, your sense of smell and the most awful one of all … FEELING …. Feeling can be scary, if you aren’t used to it.

Oh August where have you gone

Once again I sit here, amazed at how time flies. Last Post on August 25th? Seems like it was just a couple weeks ago, but I guess not.
It’s been a stressful time, and time does tend to just take flight, before you know it, things have disappeared , people have moved on, and I stand in the midsts of disaster, confused, cold and with 1 or 6 emotions less or ten times changed.
At the same time August seems like forever away, things I have forgotten, faces that have passed, foggy Memories, Foggy Conversations, Foggy Feelings, Foggy Everything.
(ADHD MOMENT) Why does the word Foggy and Forgetting seem so close knit? ….
And onward I go. So what was in August? Hmmm Truthfully I can’t remember. I know I returned to work from my FMLA in August. .. maybe that’s when it all happened. I was at home for 120 days, and that’s all I had to concentrate on, absorb and spit out, rinse and repeat. Now that I’m back at work I have to deal with the “drama” and “changes” there, then return to the dungeon and face a whole other set of “drama” and “changes”. Enough to tear through my thick ass skin and make me bawl at the drop of a dime. It really sucks. I have been broken. I have been “damaged” before but never really broken. It was always fixable, but it’s been a long stretch of dings and other heavy artillery being aimed at me, to leave huge holes where there was once part of me.
For now I have to get going and stick this little Mastermind of mine into his cozy bed, so I can get some form of peace around me. … which won’t last because I still have the big grumpy man here, overshadowing my every move. *le sigh*

quotes from the movie – Ghost Dog

The Way of the Samurai is found in death. Meditation on inevitable death should be performed daily. Every day, when one’s body and mind are at peace, one should meditate upon being ripped apart by arrows, rifles, spears, and swords, being carried away by surging waves, being thrown into the midst of a great fire, being struck by lightning, being shaken to death by a great earthquake, falling from thousand-foot cliffs, dying of disease or committing seppuku at the death of one’s master. And every day, without fail, one should consider himself as dead. This is the substance of the Way of the Samurai. 


 It is bad when one thing becomes two. One should not look for anything else in the Way of the Samurai. It is the same for anything that is called a Way. If one understands things in this manner, he should be able to hear about all ways and be more and more in accord with his own.


If one were to say in a word what the condition of being a samurai is, its basis lies first in seriously devoting one’s body and soul to his master.


It is a good viewpoint to see the world as a dream. When you have something like a nightmare, you will wake up and tell yourself that it was only a dream. It is said that the world we live in is not a bit different from this. 


Among the maxims on Lord Naoshige’s wall, there was this one: “Matters of great concern should be treated lightly.” Master Ittei commented, “Matters of small concern should be treated seriously.” 


Even if one’s head were to be suddenly cut off, he should be able to do one more action with certainty. With martial valor, if one becomes like a revengeful ghost and shows great determination, though his head is cut off, he should not die


There is something to be learned from a rainstorm. When meeting with a sudden shower, you try not to get wet and run quickly along the road. But doing such things as passing under the eaves of houses, you still get wet. When you are resolved from the beginning, you will not be perplexed, though you still get the same soaking. This understanding extends to everything.


There is something to be learned from a rainstorm. When meeting with a sudden shower, you try not to get wet and run quickly along the road. But doing such things as passing under the eaves of houses, you still get wet. When you are resolved from the beginning, you will not be perplexed, though you still get the same soaking. This understanding extends to everything.


 Our bodies are given life from the midst of nothingness. Existing where there is nothing is the meaning of the phrase “Form is emptiness.” That all things are provided for by nothingness is the meaning of the phrase “Emptiness is form.” One should not think that these are two separate things. 


It is said that what is called the Spirit of an Age is something to which one cannot return. That this spirit gradually dissipates is due to the world’s coming to an end. In the same way, a single year does not have just spring or summer. A single day, too, is the same. For this reason, although one would like to change today’s world back to the spirit of one hundred years or more ago, it cannot be done. Thus it is important to make the best out of every generation. 


There is surely nothing other than the single purpose of the moment. A man’s whole life is a succession of moment after moment. If one fully understands the present moment, there is nothing left to do, and nothing else to pursue.


Ahmad Suradji May 21 2009

was a serial killer in Indonesia. Suradji, a cattle-breeder born in 1951, was executed July 10 2008. He was also known as Nasib Kelewang, or by his alias Datuk. He admitted to killing 42 girls and women over a period of 11 years. His victims ranged in age from 11 to 30, and were strangled with a cable after being buried up to their waists in the ground as part of a ritual. Suradji was arrested on May 2, 1997, after bodies were discovered near his home on the outskirts of Medan, the capital of North Sumatra. He buried his victims in a sugarcane plantation near his home, with heads of the victims facing his house, which he believed would give him extra power.
He told police that he had a dream in 1988 in which his father’s ghost told him to kill 70 women and drink their saliva, so that he could become a mystic healer. As a sorcerer or dukun, women came to him for spiritual advice or on making themselves more beautiful or richer. His three wives—all sisters—were also arrested for assisting in the murders and helping to hide the bodies. One of his wives, Tumini, was tried as his accomplice. The trial began on December 11, 1997, with a 363-page charge against him, and although Suradji maintained his innocence, he was found guilty on April 27, 1998 by a three-judge panel in Lubukpakam. He was sentenced to death by firing squad and executed on July 10, 2008 .

Andrei Chikatilo – May 21 2009

Andrei Romanovich Chikatilo (Russian: ; October 16, 1936 — February 14, 1994) was a Russian serial killer, nicknamed the Butcher of Rostov, The Red Ripper or The Rostov Ripper. He was convicted of the murders of 52 women and children, mostly in Rostov Oblast, Russian SFSR, between 1978 and 1990 (some victims were murdered in other regions of Russia and in the Ukrainian and Uzbek SSRs).

Early life

Andrei Chikatilo was born in the village of Yablochnoye in the Ukraine. When the Soviet Union entered World War II, his father was drafted into the Red Army. Chikatilo had to share a bed with his mother. He was a chronic bed wetter throughout his childhood, and was beaten by his mother for each offense.
The war years were traumatic ones for Chikatilo. During the Ukrainian famine, Stalin forced Ukrainian farmers to hand in their entire crop for statewide distribution. Mass starvation ran rampant throughout Ukraine, and reports of cannibalism soared. Chikatilo’s mother told him that his older brother Steppan had been kidnapped and cannibalized by starving neighbors; it has never been independently established whether this actually happened. During the war, Chikatilo witnessed some of the effects of Blitzkrieg, which both frightened and excited him. In 1949, Chikatilo’s father, who had been captured by Nazi soldiers, returned home. Instead of being rewarded for his war service, he was branded a traitor for surrendering to the Germans. During late adolescence, Chikatilo discovered that he suffered from chronic impotence, worsening his social awkwardness and self-hatred.
Chikatilo was an extraordinary student, and set his sights on Moscow State University, where he hoped to achieve a law degree. Chikatilo failed the entrance exam, however. After finishing his mandatory military service in 1960, he moved to Rodionovo-Nesvetayevsky and worked as a telephone engineer. Chikatilo’s only sexual experience in adolescence was when he, aged 18, jumped on a 13-year-old girl (his sister’s friend) and wrestled her to the ground, ejaculating as the girl struggled in his grasp.
In 1963, Chikatilo married a woman to whom he was introduced by his younger sister. The couple had a son and daughter. Chikatilo later claimed that his marital sex life was minimal and that he would ejaculate on his wife and push the semen inside her vagina with his fingers. In 1965, their daughter Ludmila was born, followed by son Yuri a year later. In 1971, Chikatilo completed a degree in Russian literature by a correspondence course and tried a career as a teacher in Novoshakhtinsk. His career ended after several complaints of attempted molestation. He eventually took a job as a clerk for a factory.

Beginning of the murders

In 1978, Chikatilo moved to Shakhty, a small coal-mining town near Rostov-on-Don, where he committed his first documented murder. On 22 December, he lured a nine-year-old girl to an old house which he had secretly purchased, and attempted to rape her but failed to achieve an erection. When the girl struggled, he stabbed her to death. He ejaculated in the process of knifing the child. From that point, Chikatilo was only able to achieve sexual arousal and orgasm through stabbing and slashing women and children to death. Despite evidence linking Chikatilo to the girl’s death, a young man, Alexsandr Kravchenko, who had served the sentence for rape and murder before, was arrested, tried and confessed under torture. He was sentenced to 15 years of imprisonment (the maximum possible length of imprisonment at that time) but under pressure of victim’s relatives he was retried and eventually executed for the crime.
Chikatilo committed his next murder in 1981, when he tried to have sex with a prostitute Larisa Tkachenko in a forest. When Chikatilo failed to achieve erection, Tkachenko began to mock him. Chikatilo became furious; he stabbed and strangled her.
Chikatilo did not murder again until 1982, but in that year he killed several times. He established a pattern of approaching runaways and young vagrants at bus or railway stations, enticing them to a nearby forest, and killing them. He did not kill again until June 1983, but he killed four before September. These victims were all women or children. The adult females were often prostitutes or homeless women who could be lured with promises of alcohol or money. Chikatilo would typically attempt intercourse with his adult female victims, but he would usually be unable to get an erection, which would send him into a murderous fury, particularly if the woman mocked his impotence. He would achieve orgasm only when he stabbed the victim to death. His child victims were of both sexes; Chikatilo would lure them to secluded areas by promising them toys or candy.
Six bodies had been uncovered by 1983. A Moscow police team, headed by Major Mikhail Fetisov, was sent to Rostov-on-Don to direct the investigation. Fetisov centered the investigations around Shakhty and assigned a specialist forensic analyst, Victor Burakov, to head the investigation. The police effort concentrated on mentally ill citizens and known sex offenders, slowly working through all that were known and eliminating them from the inquiry. A number of young men confessed to the murders, although they were usually mentally handicapped youths who had admitted to the crimes only under prolonged and often brutal interrogation. One under-age homosexual suspect committed suicide in his detention cell. In 1984, another 15 murders took place. The police began additional patrols and posted plain-clothes men at many public transport stops.

Arrest and release

Chikatilo was identified to have behaved suspiciously at a Rostov bus station. He was arrested and held. It was found he was under investigation for minor theft at one of his former employers, which gave the investigators the legal right to hold him for a prolonged period of time. Chikatilo’s dubious background was uncovered but provided insufficient evidence to convict him of the murders. He was found guilty on other matters and sentenced to one year in prison. He was freed in December 1984 after serving three months.

Later murders and the manhunt

Chikatilo found new work in Novocherkassk and kept a low profile. He did not kill again until August 1985, when he murdered two women in separate incidents. He is not known to have killed again until May 1987 when, on a business trip to Revda in Ukraine, he killed a young boy. He killed again in Zaporozhye in July and in Leningrad in September.
The police investigation was revived in mid-1985 when Issa Kostoyev was appointed to take over the case. The known murders around Rostov were carefully re-investigated and there was another round of questioning of known sex offenders. In December 1985, the police renewed the patrolling of railway stations around Rostov. Chikatilo followed the investigation carefully, and for over two years, he kept his desires under control. The police also took the step of consulting a psychiatrist, the first such consultation in a serial killer investigation in the Soviet Union.
In 1988, Chikatilo resumed killing, generally keeping his activities far from the Rostov area. He murdered an unidentified woman in Krasny-Sulin in April and two boys in May and July. In 1989, Chikatilo killed five times between March and August. Again, there was a long lapse before Chikatilo resumed killing, murdering seven boys and two women between January and November 1990.
The discovery of more victims led a massive operation by the police. A part of the operation involved a large number of the force patrolling train and bus stations as well as other public places around Rostov area. Major bus and train stations were patrolled by the police force wearing uniforms. Smaller and less busy stations were patrolled by undercover agents. The intention was to discourage the killer from frequenting the larger train and bus stations, where activities would be more likely to be noticed. This would force the killer to hunt at smaller stations, where the presence of police was not apparent. The operation also involved a large number of young female agents dressed like prostitutes or homeless people. They kept wandering aimlessly in and around stations as well as traveling extensively along the routes where dead bodies were found.
On 6 November 1990, Chikatilo killed and mutilated Sveta Korostik. While leaving the crime scene, he was stopped by an undercover policeman who was patrolling the Leskhoz train station and saw Chikatilo approaching from the woods. According to the policeman, he looked suspicious. The only reason for someone to go into the woods at that time of year was to gather wild mushrooms (a popular pastime in Russia). However, Chikatilo was not dressed like a typical forest hiker. He was wearing more formal attire. Moreover, he had a nylon sports bag, which was not suitable for carrying mushrooms. His clothing was dirty and he had what looked like smeared blood stains on his cheek and ear. The policeman stopped Chikatilo and checked his papers. Having no formal reason for arrest, Chikatilo was not held. Had Chikatilo’s bag been checked, he would have found the amputated breasts of Sveta Korostik. When the policeman came back to his office, he filed a formal routine report, indicating the name of the person he stopped at the train station. Shortly after the encounter, the police found two dead bodies, 30 feet apart, near the train station in Leskhoz. It was determined that one of the victims was killed around the date of the police report filed about this suspicious man near the Leskhoz station. It was the second time Chikatilo was indirectly associated with a murder of a child (the first one was in 1978, when a witness reported seeing a man whose description matched Chikatilo with a girl who was later found dead).

Final arrest and Chikatilo’s confession

Even after the incident, the police still did not have enough evidence for arrest and prosecution. Chikatilo was put on a round-the-clock watch by the police. He was constantly followed and videotaped by undercover agents. On November 20, 1990, Chikatilo left his house with a one gallon flask for beer. Chikatilo wandered around the city, attempting to make contact with children he met on his way. Finally, he entered a small cafe where he bought 300 ml of beer. His behavior toward the children triggered the decision to arrest him when he exited the cafe.
Again, the police had ten days to either charge Chikatilo with the murders or to let him go. Upon arrest, the police uncovered another piece of evidence against Chikatilo. One of his last victims was a physically strong (although mentally challenged) 16-year-old boy. At the crime scene, the police had found numerous signs of physical struggle between the victim and his murderer. One of Chikatilo’s fingers had a relatively fresh wound. Medical examiners concluded the wound was, in fact, from a human bite. Although a finger bone was later found to be broken, Chikatilo never sought medical attention for the wound.
The strategy chosen by the police force to make him confess included one of the chief interrogators telling Chikatilo that they all believed he was a very sick man and needed medical help. The strategy was to give Chikatilo hope that if he confessed, he would not be prosecuted by reason of insanity. Finally a psychiatrist was invited to assist in questioning Chikatilo. After a long conversation, Chikatilo confessed to the murders. Again, confession was not enough to prosecute him. Interrogators still needed hard evidence. Chikatilo volunteered to provide evidence, showing buried bodies that the police had not yet discovered. That gave investigators sufficient evidence to prosecute. Between November 30 and December 5, Chikatilo confessed to and described 56 murders. Three of the victims had been buried and could not be found or identified. The number of crimes Chikatilo confessed to shocked the police, who had listed only 36 killings in their investigation. A number of victims had not been linked to the others because they were murdered far from Chikatilo’s other hunting grounds, while others were not linked because they were buried and not found until Chikatilo led the police to their shallow graves.


Special precautions had to be taken while keeping Chikatilo in prison. Violent and especially sexual crimes against children are taboo in the Russian underworld. Prisoners accused of raping and/or killing children in Russian prisons are usually “cast down” (опущены) to “untouchable” (опущенный) status, sexually abused, and sometimes killed by their cell mates. The problem was complicated by the fact that some of the relatives of Chikatilo’s victims worked in the prison system.
While in his cell, Chikatilo was put under round-the-clock video surveillance. While the suspect often acted bizarrely in front of his investigators, his behavior inside the cell was normal. He ate and slept well. He exercised every morning. He extensively read books and newspapers. Chikatilo also spent a lot of time writing letters and complaints to his family, government officials, and the mass media.

Trial and execution

The Soviet Union collapsed in 1991. Chikatilo’s trial was the first major event of post-Soviet Russia. He went to trial on April 14, 1992. Despite his odd and disruptive behavior in court, he was judged fit to stand trial. During the trial he was kept in an iron cage in the center of the courtroom; it was constructed for his protection from courtroom observers. Relatives of victims shouted threats and insults to Chikatilo, demanding the authorities to release him so that they could execute him on their own. There were many incidents of relatives fainting when the names of the victims were mentioned. Chikatilo made many ludicrous statements; on some occasions, he announced he was pregnant or was being radiated or lactated. Twice, he dropped his pants and exposed his genitals, shouting that he was not a homosexual. He denied some murders for which he had already confessed. On the last day of the trial, he broke into song and had to be removed from the courtroom. When offered a final opportunity to speak, he remained silent.
The trial ended in July and sentencing was postponed until October 15 when he was found guilty of 52 of the 53 murders and sentenced to death for each offense. Judge Leonid Akhobzyanov made the following speech: “Taking into consideration the monstrous crimes he committed, this court has no alternative but to impose the only sentence that he deserves. I therefore sentence him to death.” After hearing the sentence, the audience, made up of victim’s families, broke into applause. When given a chance to speak, Chikatilo delivered a rambling speech, blaming the regime, certain political leaders, his impotence (even removing his trousers at one point) and defending himself by blaming his childhood experiences during the famine in Ukraine in the 1930s. At one point he claimed that he had done a favor to society by cleansing it of “worthless people”. Chikatilo was seen saying something as police removed him from his iron cage and led him away.
On January 4, 1994, Russian President Boris Yeltsin refused a last ditch appeal for clemency. On February 14, Chikatilo was taken to a soundproofed room in Novocherkassk prison and executed by a single gunshot behind the right ear.

List of victims

Chikatilo in film and books

An HBO film, Citizen X, based on Robert Cullen’s book The Killer Department, was made in 1995 about the investigation of the “Rostov Ripper” murders. It starred Jeffrey DeMunn as Chikatilo, with Stephen Rea as Viktor Burakov and Donald Sutherland as Mikhail Fetisov. The 2004 film Evilenko, starring Malcolm McDowell and Marton Csokas, was loosely based on Chikatilo’s murders.
Child 44, by Tom Rob Smith, draws heavily on the Chikatilo story, with the events set several decades earlier during the time of Stalin and immediately thereafter.


Conradi, Peter. The Red Ripper: Inside the Mind of Russia’s Most Brutal Serial Killer. 1992. ISBN 0440216036.
Cullen, Robert. Killer Department. 1993. ISBN 1857972104.
Lourie, Richard. Hunting the Devil. The Pursuit, Capture and Confession of the Most Savage Serial Killer in History. 1993. ISBN 0060177179.
Smith, Tom Rob. Child 44. 2008. ISBN 1847371264. A crime novel loosely based on Chikatilo.
NTV (1997). «Criminal Russia: The trail of Satan». A documentary on Chikatilo’s case produced by a leading Russian TV channel.