Since my adolescence, I have been fascinated with death. My ‘bizarre’ interest came about when I first got into true crime, via True Detective, whose lurid murder stories and quite often lewd covers (typically featuring women in fiendishly sexist positions) stared back at me from the same racks as Secrets and True Confessions, among others. The first few magazines of this ilk I got free, from my mother’s boyfriend who got them from someone at a rich kids’ camp where he worked as a cook. I bought a couple of them myself years later because I found the stories horribly intriguing. The first true crime I ever read was, of course, In Cold Blood and after that my reading tastes were never the same. Eventually, I stopped reading those trashy V.C. Andrews books and got more into true crime.

From wanting to read true crime – I even harbored delusions of becoming a homicide detective during my teen years – I began to want to see crime scenes themselves. Since this is not exactly easy to do, I had to settle for viewing revolting photos of dead people on the Internet. Back in the late 90s, when I first got hooked on the ‘Net, there was a website with dozens, maybe hundreds, of such photos that were actually sent to the webmaster, often from CSI photographers, morgue workers, and reporters.

Most of these photos were extremely shocking, particularly one of an impaled woman titled ‘Pole Baby’. I am not sure if all of the photos were real or not, but many of them were and they gave me the heebie jeebies. That didn’t stop me, in 2001, from purchasing Death Scenes: A Homicide Detective’s Scrapbook, This collection of old black & white crime photos disgusted me – especially the children murdered by their cunt mothers who usually got away with it by being ‘adjudged insane’ as the detective put it in his notes. I had nightmares about some of the photos.

Now it’s your time to have the nightmares. I have collected some chilling photos of suicides, famous murders, and other gore for your dark amusement. Don’t have a heart attack, stroke, or whatever cuz I can’t be held responsible. You have been warned in the title of this post. Sweet dreams, dear readers.







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