19 People Who Encountered Serial Killers

16.

“This was a few years ago now, maybe 2019? I worked in a bar and there was this guy who’d come in occasionally with his family (parents and siblings), I think he was about 25. Really nice guy — we had immediate chemistry. He was in the army and he was home and visited my work and I was just finishing my shift. He asks if I felt like going for a few drinks. He wasn’t a complete stranger and the other staff knew him, so I agreed. We went to a cocktail bar nearby and then he suggested going to his for a few drinks — he had a bar in his house. My first mistake was agreeing, but when I was 19 I was just happy to go along with things.”

“Anyway, all’s going good. We’re getting along fine and having a good night. but the more he drank, things began to change. He was telling me horrific stories about things he’d seen while serving. Through the night, the look in his eyes began to change. I suppose it sounds cliché, but there’s no other way to describe it. He had a bit of madness in them which he previously didn’t have. He was giving me loads of drinks and started offering to buy me drugs (I declined). i started to feel uneasy and texted my best friend saying I didn’t feel right. He lived around the corner and said if I needed to leave he’d meet me.

I’m timing when I’m going to leave. It’s, like, 5 a.m. at this point. I was going to be polite and finish my drink then thank him and head out, meet my friend then go home. Then he starts talking about killing people, and how he would go about it.

He tells me that he would meet a girl, get to know her, and make her feel comfortable and like he wasn’t a threat. Then he’d take her out for drinks and back to his for more, and get her really drunk. Something clicked for me at this point that this was EXACTLY the things he’d done with me thus far — except I (thankfully) can handle my drink so I wasn’t drunk. At this point, he looked completely different. Like, his face had changed completely. He looked so sinister. He told me about how he’d do the deed (the knife he specifically showed me when we first got to his, his favorite cooking knife apparently) and how he’d cover the room we were in with plastic so that nothing had evidence on when he went to work dismembering. When I asked what he’d do with the body parts, he pointed out the oil drum he had in the back garden and smiled smugly.

Everything in my body was screaming at me that I needed to leave, so I texted my best friend and literally sprinted out. he cussed me out as I did and slammed the door so hard it shook. My friend held me while I sobbed. I got in at about 6:30, and blocked him on everything.”

—u/smallcuppabrew