Henry Lee Lucas
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Henry Lee Lucas might be the most evil killer ever. But it is equally possible that most of his victims are products of his own highly active imagination.
Cindy was 16 or 17 years old, a runaway from somewhere up north, hitch-hiking through the southern United States to nowhere in particular. She was heavily made-up, “very sext and well built, large bust,” according to the scruffy, one-eyed man driving south on the interstate, and that was enough to make him pull over and offer the girl a ride. In the car, she was glad to take his offer of a beer.
“We kept talking,” he wrote later, in his half-literate but strangely vivid style, “and I ask her to slide over beside me and she did. I become to feel of her tittys and she ask me if I like that and I said yes. She was only playing me I could tell so I said I wanted to **** her and she said maybe. I said I was going to stop and get some and she said not yet we’ll have plenty of time and I said no we don’t.”
Cindy shifted away from the driver, towards the passenger door. Possibly, she was going to risk jumping from the car. But just moving away made the driver mad. He reached out his right hand and pulled her back towards him, and put his arm around her neck. Cindy lashed out, hitting at the driver as she struggled to pull free of his grasp.
As the driver fought to control the angry, frightened teenager the car nearly went off the road. Cindy figured a wreck might not be such a bad thing. She made a grab for the steering wheel. That was too much for the driver.
“I rammed the butcher knife into her. She said something but I could not make it out. She fell between the seat and dash next to the door. She stayed like that until I pulled her out of the car and while I was pulling her she began to moan or something.”