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.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |