💾 Archived View for gemini.spam.works › mirrors › textfiles › groups › CDC › cDc-0271.txt captured on 2023-01-29 at 14:58:11.
⬅️ Previous capture (2020-11-01)
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
_ | \ | \ | | \ __ | |\ \ __ _____________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ _____________ | ___________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ ___________ | | | _/_/_____ | | > > _/_/_____ | | | | /________/ | | / / /________/ | | | | | | / / | | | | | |/ / | | | | | | / | | | | | / | | | | |_/ | | | | | | | | c o m m u n i c a t i o n s | | | |________________________________________________________________| | |____________________________________________________________________| ...presents... Alvin Harper, Teen Killer by Krass Katt >>> a cDc publication.......1994 <<< -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc- ____ _ ____ _ ____ _ ____ _ ____ |____digital_media____digital_culture____digital_media____digital_culture____| The following is a transcript of an interview with teen killer Alvin Harper, accused in the murder of his aunt, Thelma Kidd. Harper is a slightly built youth, seemingly incapable of the crimes of which he has been accused. As is the case with all these type of interviews, the dialogue by the police has been left out, leaving only the words of the suspect. ______________________________________________________________________________ "My name is Alvin Harper, and I make this statement of my own free will. Listen, do you think they're going to send me to prison? God, I'm only 16, but they said they were going to try me as an adult. Oh, shit! What am I going to do? You have to understand, this woman was the most sadistic person I have heard of or met in my life. When Mom died, she stipulated that she wanted me to go and live with Thel. I knew she was an alcoholic, and I know she had been through two bad marriages, but she had always treated me well. I guess you really don't know someone until you live under the same roof. Had I known what she was really like, I'd have surely run away. She used to beat me any time and for any reason. Mom died when I was 12, and life was complicated enough, but she slapped me right after I moved in with her for saying I missed Mom. She said 'She's dead, and it's time you moved on with life. Dead!! Do you understand?!' I just thought I had caught her at a bad moment. but it was only the first in a long string of violent episodes. She was a big woman, as you probably know, 5' 10", and she outweighed me by 80 pounds. I was a real good student up until this tragedy. I was making all A's in my studies, but I wasn't any good at organized sports. She said if I didn't improve my grades in gym, she was going to punish me. That's how she referred to any kind of abuse, as my punishment. Sure enough, when I got my report card, I had a D in gym. She grabbed me by the wrist and twisted it as she dragged me over to the stove. It was one of those electric ones, and she placed my palm on it, then turned it on. You can see the scar. [At this point, Harper holds out his hand. Indeed, there is a large burn scar on the palm.] One time, I forgot to take out the trash, and she came up on me, quietly. She moved like a cat for a large woman, at least when she was sober. Anyway, she snuck up on me and punched me in the ear. My equilibrium was off for nearly a week, and my hearing is still affected from it. This is no isolated condition. It happened with frightening regularity. Why didn't I report her to the authorities? Aren't you listening to me? The woman was dangerous, sadistic!! You know as well as I do that Protective Services usually ends up returning kids to their parents or guardians after the most perfunctory of investigations. And where would I be then? In the hands of an angry sadist. OK, I'm getting to it! So that last night, I was late coming home from school. I tried to sneak in, but it looked like I had lucked out, and Aunt Thel wasn't home. I crossed the kitchen when I felt this stinging on my back, like I had been stung by the world's biggest bee, and I turned to find her holding a belt by the wrong end, so the buckle was the portion that struck me. She swung again, and again, and had me on the floor, with my arm up in a half-hearted attempt to defend myself. When I awoke, I didn't know how long I had been out. It was dark now, and I was bleeding from several gashes on my back. The bitch had left me there on the floor, and it was cold while at the same time the raw skin on my back was burning. Out in the living room, I could hear the TV going, and I saw a half-empty bottle of whiskey hanging from her limp arm. Drunk again, and hadn't even checked to see how I was. That was when I decided to do what I did. I dragged myself up from the floor with a lot of pain. Look at this!" [He lifts up his shirt, and there are several long streaks of bruised flesh, giving an indication of how bad they must have been 10 days ago at the time of the murder.] Anyway, I dragged myself to my feet, and went to the kitchen and got into the utensil drawer. I took out the ice pick and started off into the living room. It was at this time that I almost talked myself out of it. But a drop of blood had flowed all the way from my back to my fingertips, and fell all the way to the floor. I looked at it, and thought if I didn't do something soon, she was going to kill me. As I entered the living room, I could hear her snoring softly. The area around her head was cloying with the smell of alcohol fumes and halitosis. As a heavy drinker, that aroma was not uncommon. Her gums were receding from the constant burning away of skin from drinking straight whiskey, and her breath smelled like she ate carrion for breakfast, all the time. Her head was bent slightly forward, and I plunged the ice pick into the back of her neck. It was eerie. Her pelvis lifted off the chair with such force that it jerked the pick out of my hand as she flew out of the chair and landed on her belly on the floor. I thought at first that she was dead, but then I heard her making mewling type sounds. I must have hit some nerve or something, because she seemed to be paralyzed, though she still seemed to have feeling. I poked her in the leg with the ice pick, and sure as hell, she made that mewling sound again. For just a moment, I thought about calling an ambulance. Yeah, you're right. I should have let it go at that. But something just came over me when I realized that she was helpless, and all the old anger from years of abuse. I remember everything, but was out of control of my faculties. I was no more able to stop the next sequence of events than I would be to stop my bladder function. I dragged her limp form to a sitting position. She could barely sit up because of her stomach being so big, but since she was paralyzed, I was able to force her into a sitting position, although there was much creaking of stretched muscles and cracking vertebrae. She looked at me with the same pleading look I had given her when she had beaten me. Her head was lolled over to one side, and a thin run of spit ran out of the side of her mouth. I leaned toward her, smiled, and spit right in her eye. It ran down the side of her face. Then, I took a step back, and reared back and kicked her directly in the center of her chest. She went back and hit her head on the floor. I looked in her eyes. She was awake. Why did I sodomize her? Revenge, I guess. It seemed the ultimate insult to someone who had caused me so much pain. She seemed to be trying to scream, whether in pain or shame, I guess we'll never know. And to be honest, it doesn't matter, as long as it was pain, emotional or physical. No, I guess I wasn't done yet. I dragged her and into the kitchen. As I said, she was a big woman, but I had never felt so physically strong. I draped her fat ass face down over one of the kitchen chairs. [Note: The suspect is becoming agitated as he tells this part of his story.] By this time, I was out of control. I wanted to be sure she was still with me, so I heated up a kitchen knife and applied it to her left nipple, which was hanging over the chair. She had big tits. Not nice tits, but big saggy ones that went with the rest of her big saggy body. Anyway, she was still with me. The heat applied to the nipple brought the loudest noise I had heard from her since she was hitting me with that goddamned belt. I couldn't think of what to do next, and as I looked down at her big fat ass, with the old stained sphincter staring up at me, I decided to finish her in the most vile way I could think of. [Suspect is breathing hard, and flushed. I ask him if he wants to rest. He says no, and we continue.] So, I go to the cabinet and take out the cooking lard. I spread it all over my right arm, up to the elbow. Then I slathered it all over her asshole. I thought about just reaching in and yanking her fucking colon out, but she deserved more than that. At this point, I couldn't let her off easy. So, I spread her cheeks and just started punching at her sphincter. I wondered if the lard would allow my clenched fist inside. I just kept punching as hard as I could, until I lost count. I was caught up in some sort of frenzy, and I just kept punching. I was about to give up, when the wall of her rectum caved in, and my fist slid inside her. Problem was, my thumb was bent back when my arm had entered the rectal cavity, and it was stuck. It felt as if it was badly torn, too. I tried to pull my arm out, but the pain was so intense I couldn't move my arm more than an inch in either direction. So what am I supposed to do? I gritted my teeth and pulled as hard as I could. I could see the blood, probably mixed with her shit, dripping out of the opening of her asshole where my fist was buried. I started to panic, because I was afraid of bile and poison getting into my bloodstream from the open wound. So, I put my foot against her ass, held my breath, and yanked as hard as I could. The last mental reaction I had was to squeeze my hand shut, and as my hand exited her rectum, it closed onto a handful of flesh, and although it was probably the most pain I have ever felt, including the beatings that bitch gave me, I was rewarded with about a foot and a half of that cunt's colon hanging out of her ass. Then, I looked in her eyes. They were still open, but the light had gone out of them. She was dead. I was unsure of what to do then. So, I called you guys. Remorse? No. I feel no remorse." ______________________________________________________________________________ Alvin Harper was convicted of first degree murder, sodomy and aggravated assault. He was found criminally insane, and sentenced to the psychiatric unit of Vacaville Prison in Central California. ______________________________________________________________________________ _______ __________________________________________________________________ / _ _ \|Demon Roach Undrgrnd.806/794-4362|Kingdom of Shit.....806/794-1842| ((___)) |Cool Beans!..........415/648-PUNK|Polka AE {PW:KILL}..806/794-4362| [ x x ] |Metalland Southwest..713/579-2276|ATDT East...........617/350-STIF| \ / |The Works............617/861-8976|Ripco ][............312/528-5020| (' ') | Save yourself! Go outside! DO SOMETHING! | (U) |==================================================================| .ooM |Copyright (c) 1994 cDc communications and Krass Katt. | \_______/|All Rights Reserved. 08/01/1994-#271|