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Our episodes deal with serious and often distressing incidents. If you feel at any time you need support, please contact your local crisis centre for suggested phone numbers, for confidential support and for a more detailed list of content warnings, please see the show notes for this episode on your app or on our website. Today's episode involves crimes against children and won't be suitable for all listeners. Test a rtf properties created Thursday, february 10, 2005 at 6:05pm Monday, february 14, 2005 at 2:47pm 1111868 christ lutheran church christ lutheran church park city community public library last saved by dennis. For as long as Dennis Rader could remember, he had what he referred to as a little monster inside his brain. He said it featured heavily throughout his childhood memories, appearing in many frightening forms. Rader visualised the monster in shadows wallpapers, rugs, wood grains, clouds, trees and buildings. Seeing it filled him with fear. But he also experienced another, stranger sensation, a tightness in his crotch. In Rader's words, those moments imprinted onto his adulthood like the programming of a computer chip. Dennis Rader was born in March 1945, the first of four boys to high school sweethearts who married young. Although his mother was at times distant and neglectful, partly due to untreated postpartum depression, Rader was surrounded by the love and support of his extended family, community and friends. His strict but decent father worked hard to provide the family with a stable home in Wichita while fostering their strong connection to the Christian faith. Rader routinely attended church and Sunday school and participated in Bible study and prayer. Once, during Mass, Dennis Rader experienced what he believed to be a moment of enlightenment. He said he felt the Holy Spirit moving through him, compelling him toward noble pursuits such as community service and personal development. He became an altar boy and joined the Boy Scouts, maintaining an outward appearance of goodness throughout his youth by abstaining from cussing alcohol, drugs and promiscuity. His religious devotion was so deeply ingrained that hearing other boys take a God's name in vain brought him to tears. Though he tried to nurture his so called holy Spirit, the little monster within Rader never went away. One of his earliest memories of its presence was when his mother became stuck after her wedding ring caught on a sofa spring. Seeing her in distress excited Rader, producing the strange erotic sensation in the pit of his stomach and groin. The same troubling feeling resurfaced when his mother started panicking at the top of a Ferris wheel. Raider's mother inadvertently played a pivotal role in his sexual development as he came to realise that he found the idea of people being trapped and helpless thrilling. Through the Boy Scouts, he became skilled at tying a variety of knots, with the clovehitch being his favourite. He experimented with tying his wrists and ankles together with all manner of bindings, including string, tape, twine, ropes, cords, straps, leather belts and chains. He restrained himself to beds, doors, clothes, racks, beams and trees, tried out gags and nooses, and even put a plastic bag over his head, all for the purpose of sexual gratification. Rader claimed that his mother's infrequent use of corporal punishment aroused him further forming his belief that violence and sex go hand in hand. Her comfort and affection whenever Rader experienced pain or distress resulted in another one of his sexual obsessions, sadomasochism. He also discovered that he enjoyed wearing women's clothing. When he started pleasuring himself while dressed in his mother's nightclothes and underwear, Rader described a complex relationship with his mother. He insisted he loved her, yet blamed her for much of the trauma he carried throughout his life. One day, when she mistakenly accused him of stealing, the humiliation and shame he felt marked the beginning of his impulse problem. Rader became easily provoked when stressed or frustrated and couldn't control his temper. His eruptions were so explosive they left him drenched in sweat. Any criticism, especially when he considered it unjustified, stoked a deep seated resentment and a craving for retribution. This led Rader to focus more on action than on consequences and learn to keep secrets rather than face repercussions. Lies became a defensive strategy he relied on to maintain control while feeding him a smug sense of superiority. Over time, Dennis Rader's behaviour escalated to include spying on people, peeping through windows and breaking into houses. In his opinion, the little monster went too Far when it compelled him to start a fire that threatened nearby homes. Though Rader managed to extinguish the flames before anyone was harmed, the sense of grave danger both terrified and excited him. He reproduced the feeling by torturing animals, mostly cats, finding it exhilarating to exert complete control over a powerless creature. For Raider, the power to command life and death was the ultimate pleasure. When Rader heard the real life story of a man who had strangled his girlfriend to death, he felt sexually aroused. It led him to consume and collect crime thrillers, horror films and detective magazines as a form of pornography. And he grew to idolise serial killers. Anything that depicted women being stalked, frightened and harmed was his favourite content. He drew sketches of girls and women he knew, tightly bound and designed dungeons where he imagined torturing them. One of his creations involved sealing a woman in a box that was partially filled with water. Radar would increase the box's temperature, causing the woman to sweat and urinate profusely until she inevitably drowned in her own fluids. He hid his depraved art, pornography collection, bondage equipment and mother's soiled clothing in secret places he called his hidey holes. He had many hidey holes. Some were close by, like the attic of his home. Others were in remote or abandoned locations throughout Wichita. As time went on, Rader's fantasies grew increasingly deranged. One of his favourites involved a victim being tied to a railroad track As a train approached. He revelled in their torment in the face of impending death. The violent fantasies the little monster conjured were like a book Rader could open and read repeatedly in his mind. They served as a form of disassociation, intensifying whenever he felt unsatisfied in real life and shielding him from negative feelings and experiences. To Raider, the monster existed in another world. A make believe realm he called his dark side. He found it difficult to put this part of himself into words. He referred to the intense feeling it evoked as Factor X and believed anyone capable of wilfully harming others possessed some form of it. But because Rader had convinced himself that he wasn't actually hurting other people, he avoided feelings of remorse, self hate or shame. While Rader knew that what he was doing was wrong, he insisted he was unable to rid himself of the little monster inside him. He claimed that he was too embarrassed to ask for help. And although there were warning signs, no one in his life suspected anything was seriously wrong. Dennis Rader was awkward, shy and a slow learner. But other than that, he came across as a relatively normal young man. Rader referred to his ability to switch between the different sides of himself as cubing. He reasoned that a cube can have one side fully visible, face on, while all others remain completely hidden. Cubing came easily to him. It felt as natural as breathing, or like changing hats on his head or shifting gears in a car. It allowed him to attend school, date girls and work a part time job without arousing any suspicion that something was wrong in his mind. Rader liked to believe that each side of his cube existed independently, with none affecting the others. He described it as though multiple different people were living inside his body. In the early days, he didn't act out his sexual fantasies with anyone, nor did he tell anyone about the little monster. As far as he was concerned, it was safely locked away in a secret compartment within him and he felt completely in control. Rader claimed the origin of the little monster was a mystery to him. He wondered if it was because of his mother's smoking habit or the fact that she'd fallen off a horse while pregnant with him. Or could it be because he had low glucose and glycogen levels which caused nervousness and irritability? Perhaps it was worsened by a head injury he sustained in a car accident when he was 17. Maybe there was always something fundamentally wrong with his brain, possibly with the neurotransmitter dopamine associated with pleasure, motivation and focus. Rader was adamant that he hadn't endured sexual trauma or abuse, and those closest to him corroborated that account. Whatever the cause, he often wondered whether the monster would one day lead him down a dark path. After graduating high school, Rader worked briefly before serving a four year tour of duty with the Air Force. Photography became a hobby and he learned how to develop film. By 1970, he was back in Wichita studying electronics at community college. He embarked on a whirlwind romance with a woman named Paula, marrying her the following year and moving to Park City where they became youth sponsors at the local Christ Lutheran Church. During these times, when Rader displayed the good side of his cube, he was primarily seen as friendly, caring and hospitable. At worst, he struck people as humourless. He maintained normal sexual relations with his wife and felt no urge to act on his violent tendencies. Rader said that when life was going well, the little monster inside him seemed to disappear entirely. However, as he approached midlife, he began to sense a shift. Although the monster felt gratified, it was never fully satisfied. One day, Paula was hospitalised following a car accident. During a visit, Rader stopped at a corner drugstore and was drawn to the magazine display where he began flipping through detective magazines. Suddenly, the little monster re emerged and Rader found himself once again consuming crime content for sexual pleasure. He created new hidey holes in his attic, crawlspaces and shed, as well as at his parents home and the local Christ Lutheran Church building. He spied on young women undressing in their homes while fantasising about kidnapping them. He assembled what he called his hit kit, a collection of items that would help him carry out an abduction, including tools, bindings, knives and handguns. He drove around in search of abandoned and remote locations where he imagined himself carrying out torture. Despite these urges, Rader managed to avoid the temptation to act on them. It wasn't until the economy faltered in late 1973 that he said the little monster took full control. At age 28, crushed by the loss of his job, Rader finally, quote, went to the dark side. Weeks later, in January 1974, Dennis Rader murdered Joe, Julie, Josie and Joey Otero. He didn't expect Joe to be home and intended to, quote, quickly dispatch Joey before taking his time with Julie and Josie. Although events didn't unfold exactly as Rader intended, he said he was proud of what he'd managed to accomplish. Afterwards, he described feeling as though his brain was on fire, like his head was caught in a tightening vise. He destroyed all of the items he used in the killings except for the blood stained Air Force parka he had worn and the wristwatch he'd taken from Joe Otero, fully expecting the police to show up and arrest him at any moment. But Rader soon realised that he had somehow gotten away with it. He journaled about the experience and began clipping newspaper articles about the crime, storing them alongside the blood stained Parker in one of his hidey holes. Rader resized Joe's watch to fit his wrist and wore it occasionally, justifying it to himself by thinking he needed a new one anyway before finally throwing it into a creek. With little improvement in Rader's daily life, the little monster craved the rush of killing again. Rader said his good side tried to dissuade him, urging him to consider the Otero murders as just a bad day and move on with his life. But in Rader's words, the other part of me overrode the good sense. He told his wife that he was working late on personal projects or visiting the library, while instead driving around stalking potential victims. On several occasions, he prepared to carry out another attack, only to have his plans thwarted at the last minute. Three Months after the Otero killings, Rader murdered Katherine Bright. This time, he felt neither pride nor sexual gratification during or after the crime. It was his first close call, an unmitigated disaster that left him completely rattled. Although he had felt prepared beforehand, the attack was riddled with critical mistakes, including the unexpected presence of Katherine's brother, Kevin. While Rader intended to rape Katherine and had no plans to stab anyone, he said he lost control, calling it a, quote, total mess. When Kevin escaped, Rader was certain this would be the moment that led to his arrest. He fled home, washed up, hid Katherine's stolen driver's licence in one of his hidey holes and waited for the police. But days, weeks and months passed without any visits. Kevin Bright had provided a fairly accurate description of Rader, but the side of the cube that people knew, his good side didn't match Katherine's killer, so no one suspected him. Rader continued his ritual of documenting his crimes and collecting relevant newspaper articles, relieved to have evaded capture yet again as his good side. Rader said he prayed repeatedly, pleading for the Lord's help and asking, why me? But the hesitation was fleeting and he ultimately lost no sleep over his actions. He viewed his victims as mere objects, existing only to fulfil roles in his twisted fantasies. Raider was plotting his next strike when his plans were unexpectedly disrupted by three men who falsely confessed to the Otero killings. Although this presented Rader with the rare opportunity to wash his hands of the crime entirely by letting others take the fall, he couldn't shake the thought. I wanted credit, not someone else. Sitting at his typewriter, he drafted a detailed confession letter. Although he was fully aware that its release could lead to his capture, his desire for recognition outweighed any instinct for self preservation. After much deliberation, he settled on a moniker, one that he felt conveyed power and instilled terror. Bind them, torture them, kill them. Btk. To Rader, the name wasn't entirely accurate. He felt the T was somewhat misleading, since he didn't believe he had truly tortured anyone. In his view, bondage didn't count as torture. And when he decided to kill, he said he aimed to make it quick, despite evidence proving otherwise. According to Raider, the K in BTK was also largely irrelevant. He claimed that he killed his victims solely to eliminate them as witnesses, to avoid punishment. Only the B mattered to him. In his journals, Rader described binding his victims as a moment he, quote, could live in for years. Rader was elated when the police responded to BTK through the papers, but he chose not to reply, suspecting it was a trap. Meanwhile, he kept blending effortlessly into the community. As Wichertons grappled with the horror of BTK's brutal murders and began protecting themselves and their families, Raider spotted an opportunity. Ironically, he took a job installing security alarms, giving him access to people's homes and the chance to study potential targets up close. He also enrolled in an Administration of Justice course at Wichita State University, where he learned a great deal, including how to cover his tracks. He was delighted when the forensic pathologist who had autopsied BTK's victims spoke as a guest lecturer. In late 1974, Rader found out he was going to be a father. He was overjoyed by the news, and his dark side went into remission. As a result, over the next three years, he was too busy parenting, working and studying to act out again. Even so, he said, the little monster never truly went away. Although Rader didn't commit any murders during this time, he remained on the prowl, aware that he wasn't completely done with killing. By 1977, Rader had become a father for a second time. He said the little monster was growing restless, but nothing came to fruition until March. That month, he visited the home of a woman he had met at university, intending to kill her only to find out that she wasn't home. Going against everything he had learnt from the botched murder of Katherine Bright, Rader impulsively decided to visit a nearby house where Shirley Vian lived with her three young children. As expected, with no plan in place, things quickly went awry. Rader said he had to rush to kill Shirley to secure his escape and reluctantly left her children alive as witnesses. He braced for the moment he would be placed in handcuffs. But the police didn't even connect Shirley's murder to btk. Rader considered himself lucky to have gotten away with all his murders so far, given that none of them had gone according to his plan. His luck almost ran out when his wife discovered a draft version of the Shirley Locks poem that he intended to send to the press as a confession to Shirley Vian's murder. Thinking quickly, Rader claimed it was part of a university project on the BTK murders. His wife seemingly accepted his explanation despite having murdered six victims. At this point, Rader said he was disappointed in himself. He vowed that his next kill would be meticulous, leaving no room for error, interruptions, distractions or witnesses. In December 1977, he targeted Nancy Fox. In Rader's view, absolutely nothing went wrong. He had finally carried out what he considered The Be the Perfect Murder. After that, Rader enjoyed Christmas with his family. Then in early 1978, he recommenced BTK's cat and mouse game with the police by writing poems confessing to the Vianne and Fox murders. His decision to include poems in his correspondence was a nod to childhood memories of his beloved grandmother reading poetry to him. Rader stopped short of openly admitting to Katherine Bright's murder, needing to distance himself from Kevin Bright's witness account. Vague allusions to it were enough to provide the recognition he craved. Communicating as BTK became an addictive power rush for Rader, like walking on a knife's edge. He sought more than mere notoriety. He wanted to turn BTK into a timeless mythical legend. Like a werewolf. His fantasies became more grandiose and egocentric as he visualised his victims becoming his slaves in the afterlife. Raider continued cubing in his day to day life while the little monster simmered inside him like a dormant volcano. When the feelings of Factor X took over, he went back to stalking women, breaking into homes and sketching lewd and violent art. He donned feminine clothing and handmade masks, asphyxiating himself and rigging himself in bondage, sometimes in the clothes and lingerie he had stolen from his victims. Occasionally he documented these acts with his camera. One day, Rader's wife Paula returned home unannounced to find him in front of a mirror, tied up in one of his contraptions while observing a woman who lived across the street. This was only one of two times Paula saw the dark side of her husband. The second time she accidentally walked in on him in bondage and exploded into a fury. Embarrassed and ashamed, Rader slept on the couch as Paula contemplated separation. Her greatest concern was their children, but she also worried about the reaction of their local community. Rader was seen as the epitome of a wichiton citizen. A proud church going family man and helpful neighbour who was also by that point a dedicated boy scout leader. If his private interests became public, the Rader family's carefully cultivated reputation would be irreparably damaged. After seeking guidance from a professional and reading a self help book on sexuality, Paula gradually became more understanding. While she eventually accepted Rader's fetish, they never spoke of it. Aside from her warning that if she ever caught him again, she would file for divorce. Rader learned to keep his fetishes out of the family home. Sometimes he used hotel rooms to test out various auto asphyxiation devices he built. He would also drive to the rural outskirts of Wichita dig holes resembling graves and lower himself into them, wrapped head to toe in plastic. The danger of accidentally killing himself while performing these inherently unsafe acts was all part of the THR. In April 1979, Rader failed to kill his next intended target, Anna Williams. Yet he made the most of the incident by sending a chilling poem about it to both Anna and the press. Everyday life inevitably got in the way, and he didn't strike again until April 1984, when he made what he considered a bold move.