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RETRIBUTION:: Journal of a Serial Killer
McKinney, Texas. 1977.
Trace M. Sterling was 15 years old when he was convicted of a "Assault with intent to do bodily harm." He was sentenced to eleven and a half years in prison. Three to be served in a Juvenile Correction Facility, and the remainder to be served in an adult prison.
Upon his release in 1986, he set about getting retribution against the people who convicted him of what he calls...Honorable Retribution."
. . . “Do you recognize me, Ms. Perrotte?”, I asked, as I slid the knife blade under her dress and began to cut it open.
She nodded her head ‘No’.
“Let me tell you a story, Ms. Perrotte,” I said, as I cut more of her dress. “In 1977, they called you into jury duty to hear a case. A case involving a young man, of whom was on trial for attempting to maim or kill a man.” I now slid the blade further down until it cut her dress completely open to reveal her bra and underpants. “You were on the jury that convicted this young man.”
By the look on her face, I could tell she was trying to remember.
“That’s right, Ms. Perrotte,” I said as I placed the blade against her cheek. “I was that young man. My name is Trace Sterling.”
She began to struggle at this point. She now knew who I was, and the fear was now showing on her face. I applied pressure to the blade and drew it down her cheek. Blood started trickling from the cut. She started screaming and thrashing, trying to escape. I placed the knife blade on her chest and, once again, applied pressure. I sliced her chest down to her navel. I didn’t go too deep. Just enough to make her bleed a little.
Then, I placed the blade on her left leg just above the knee. I applied enough pressure to watch the blade slice into the skin as I drew it upwards to her hip. The blood was running out of her leg. She was thrashing wildly now. Pretty wildly for an old lady if I dare say. I repeated the same movement on her other leg.
I stood back and admired my work. Nice and bloody. I added a little more touch to her.
I read that if you get a cut on your head, that it will bleed a lot, as if you cut an artery. So, I placed the knife blade against her forehead and made a slice from one side near her temple area to the other. The blood began to really flow now. Down the sides of her face onto the pillow. She looked a mess. Lying there, soaking in her own blood.
I realized that I had been there for almost 90 minutes, so I decided ended her misery. I removed the panty-gag from her mouth. She began to plead and beg me for mercy. So, like the God she worshipped…I obliged her.
I placed the tip of the knife against her left breast and pushed down. She heaved a couple times, then went limp. I buried the blade up to the hilt and left it sticking out of her chest.
Trace M. Sterling was 15 years old when he was convicted of a "Assault with intent to do bodily harm." He was sentenced to eleven and a half years in prison. Three to be served in a Juvenile Correction Facility, and the remainder to be served in an adult prison.
Upon his release in 1986, he set about getting retribution against the people who convicted him of what he calls...Honorable Retribution."
. . . “Do you recognize me, Ms. Perrotte?”, I asked, as I slid the knife blade under her dress and began to cut it open.
She nodded her head ‘No’.
“Let me tell you a story, Ms. Perrotte,” I said, as I cut more of her dress. “In 1977, they called you into jury duty to hear a case. A case involving a young man, of whom was on trial for attempting to maim or kill a man.” I now slid the blade further down until it cut her dress completely open to reveal her bra and underpants. “You were on the jury that convicted this young man.”
By the look on her face, I could tell she was trying to remember.
“That’s right, Ms. Perrotte,” I said as I placed the blade against her cheek. “I was that young man. My name is Trace Sterling.”
She began to struggle at this point. She now knew who I was, and the fear was now showing on her face. I applied pressure to the blade and drew it down her cheek. Blood started trickling from the cut. She started screaming and thrashing, trying to escape. I placed the knife blade on her chest and, once again, applied pressure. I sliced her chest down to her navel. I didn’t go too deep. Just enough to make her bleed a little.
Then, I placed the blade on her left leg just above the knee. I applied enough pressure to watch the blade slice into the skin as I drew it upwards to her hip. The blood was running out of her leg. She was thrashing wildly now. Pretty wildly for an old lady if I dare say. I repeated the same movement on her other leg.
I stood back and admired my work. Nice and bloody. I added a little more touch to her.
I read that if you get a cut on your head, that it will bleed a lot, as if you cut an artery. So, I placed the knife blade against her forehead and made a slice from one side near her temple area to the other. The blood began to really flow now. Down the sides of her face onto the pillow. She looked a mess. Lying there, soaking in her own blood.
I realized that I had been there for almost 90 minutes, so I decided ended her misery. I removed the panty-gag from her mouth. She began to plead and beg me for mercy. So, like the God she worshipped…I obliged her.
I placed the tip of the knife against her left breast and pushed down. She heaved a couple times, then went limp. I buried the blade up to the hilt and left it sticking out of her chest.
234 pages, Kindle Edition
Published December 6, 2022
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