I AM NOT ONE OF YOU.

At least that’s what you’ll tell yourself.

You’ll say I’m a monster. A sicko. A deranged killer.

But I am no monster, I am no sicko, and I am not deranged.

I am simply a man who happens to enjoy murdering people in the most violent of ways.

So don’t bother reading this if you have a weak stomach, get easily offended, or are simply not interested in the best way to dispose of a dead body.

(It’s pigs, by the way. They eat ANYTHING.)

My name is Gerald Brittle. I am a serial killer. And this is my memoir.