When I met Samuel Smith in West Haven Psychiatric Hospital to do my interview I was searched rather intrusively, every item I possessed sparing the cloths on my back and my tape recorder was to be held till after the interview. Including my pen and small green notepad and even the pack of gum that I carry for those moments when I'm caught up late with writing and my breath has gone stale. When I questioned why, they warden said "That sicko in there you're so fascinated with, we don't want to give him a excuse to kill you." I was troubled by this, as to the reason for Samuel's MO were never made internally clear, and now even made less clear.
I Entered the white room, three armed guards stood watch as Samuel gave me a smile. A smile that didn't seem natural. I started my tape recorder(I was requested using a digital one but was denied, they said it was "To small and personal"). Before I give you the transcript I'm incline to detail Samuels. His voice had a soft intoxicating sound to it, one that only a spin doctor or the devil himself could possess. Saying that he also had a way of composing himself, a intelligence one could only gain through a detachment of humanity.
Transcript of the interview.
Me: Do you know why you're here Samuel?
Samuel
Smiles again) Because I went searching.
Me: Searching for what?
Samuel: Innocents and Purity.
Me
As calmly as I could) Samuel, you murdered 23 people. What does that have to do with innocents or purity?
Samuel: It was... Inside those people. As I routed around in the guts and glory. The scarlet gore. The velvet red flesh inside the beings called humans. I found deep within. A little symbol, that represented the last of that person. A feather, a watch, a picture, or even a pen. Something they kept within themselves a soul if you will.
Me: Why were you looking for these small personal effects?
Samuel: I was trying to piece together a soul of my own. I live in a world, my world where I cannot feel but only suffer. I felt only jealousy of my family my first "victims" as they felt happiness and sadness. I spoke to man, who said if I desire to find the my "Soul" my happiness and sadness. I was to go searching inside other people.
Me: You do not feel sad about Killing those people?
Samuel: How can I? I lack a soul. Why I do is unknown to me. I do not even have the emotion to want one. Inside its more of a urge. Much like I suppose the sexual one, that those normal people have.
Me: They way you say "souls". It almost sounds if you don't believe in such a idea. Do you?
Samuel: What is God? Nothing but a idea, and same with a soul. An idea to be pure, one that people manifest themselves into their own mind. A physical one they keep inside them. Sometimes behind the heart to hide their feels, other times deep in their bowls because they buried them, and other times in their bladders because they were going to piss them away. Their hopes, their dreams, memories, and fears. Depending on what they were feeling at that moment is the item I receive.
Me: Haven't you ever considered the possibility those "souls" your finding just happen to be items your victims are carrying at the time? That you're just killing them and stealing something?
Samuel: Yes I've thought that might have been it. That I've simply in my deranged state have robbed and killed numerous people for a sentimental knick Knack. That is not the case however, when I charm a women into a ally. Guised with nothing more than acting the part. Plunging my knife into her. I searched that body inside out looking. I remember every murder vividly, and it wasn't in till I cracked her skull that I've found her trinket, or rather now my trinket. They fluid from her head leaking all over it, a pornographic picture, spewing with raw passion. Lust is what I imagine she was feeling before her death.
After this I couldn't bare to stand any more of Samuels stories. I apologized and ended the interview. 4 days later Samuel had escape, killing a fellow patient in the process. The body was torn apart, a small key was found left by the patient. A key that was capable of opening the doors to the cell doors. In the patients dairy, he had talked frequently about freedom. I sometimes question if Samuel had gotten a hold of this persons desire, reached inside and used it to escape. Why leave it though as that was not Samuel's M.O?
