Inside the Mind of BTK

214 INSIDE THE MIND OF BTK
Over the course of the next sixty minutes, he stripped himself,
then pulled on a pair of panty hose, pink panties, and a bra, complete
with padding. He bound himself in nylon straps and began snapping
pictures of himself. Thirty minutes later, he’d finished wrapping his
entire body in plastic. He eventually reached orgasm after being forced
to “fight for air.”
Afterwards, he remarked that the plastic was only part of the reason
he experienced a “most satisfying climax.” What really excited him
was the notion of pulling off this stunt at the office, surrounded by
his coworkers, and managing to knock out this entire fantasy (complete
with the snapping of a handful of Polaroids) during his sixtyminute
lunch break.
This was a fertile period for Rader’s journal writing. With no one
to turn to and years since his last kill, he dumped his thoughts onto
the pages of his diary with furious passion. In November 1990, he
wrote a short entry about standing in his house and watching “the
blonde next door” gather evergreens from her yard for a holiday
wreath. He loved the shape of her “butt” in her blue jeans. Later that
day while taking a shower, he shut his eyes and masturbated as the
fantasy of what he intended to do to her danced on the back of his
eyelids.
Two days later he was combing through the Wichita Eagle, looking
for pictures of women that he could use to “fit the sequence” of a
fantasy he’d had the morning before. This one involved a girl between
the age of seven and eight with “a nice firm ass.”
In his mind, she was bound on a bed and petrified with fear. The
“bogeyman,” it seemed, had claimed another victim. Her name was
Kirsten. When Rader climbed into the shower, he still didn’t have all
the details of the attack worked out, but by the time the water hit him
and he covered his body with soap, the images began to come to him.
He had wrapped tape around her ankles and hands, then whispered,
“Hi, I’m the bogeyman.”
He sodomized her, then looped a nylon garrote around her throat
and quickly got down to the business of strangling her.
All of this fantasy killing was detailed in his journal. Then he
wrote about how he made the fantasy into a graphic representation.
It took a bit of searching, but he finally located a photo of a model
from an ad that looked like it would do the trick. He cut it out, laid a
piece of paper over it, and went to work tracing the outline of the little
girl—although unlike the ad, his picture, which he titled “Boogie