My son is a mass shooter

I know my son is a mass shooter, or will be soon, and I don’t know what to do.<br><br>My son is dark. He is the blackest of black holes, sucking all the life out of things around him. He drains the color from the world, and radiates a constant, low level, menacing ache of pain and hatred. He has done bad things, things I don’t want to think about and don’t know how to help.<br><br>When he was 6 we found books in his room about the mass shooters, written from their perspectives. When he was 12, we found a compendium he had compiled, of mass shootings. Date, place, location, how many were killed, how many injured, who carried it out. When he was 17, a few months before his 18th birthday, we found a detailed, well-written, well-researched, step-to-step guide on how to carry out a mass shooting. Shootings previously committed by people at the elementary, middle, and high school he attended. How to acquire and make firearms. How to disable surveillance cameras. How to avoid capture. How to wear gloves to prevent leaving prints on the guns. How to use back packs, landing strips, and mailboxes to ship the guns out of the state/county/district/ city after the fact, to places he previously sent parcels to. How to disable tracking. How to destroy communications towers to prevent emergency responders from being guided to the scene. How to stay under cover after the fact. How to prevent co-conspirators from being interrogated by the police. How to recruit co-conspirators who would not cooperate with police investigations. How to recruit co-conspirators from prison, and keep them silent by paying their debts, and how to legally do that. How to peacefully settle disputes with the police if captured. How to negotiate with the police through media reporters, from jail. How to get news reporters to advocate for you. How to write letters from jail that don’t sound like the writer is crazy. How to sound articulate and smart from behind bars. How to sound confused and interested in counseling from behind bars. How to feign insanity and get kicked out of mental health evaluations. How to talk to followers on social media without advertingly admitting to being the leader of a group. How to create new social media accounts that cannot be traced back to each other. How to make “opsec” and “krypt limburg” and other such things to obscure the connection of them all. How to keep them all on the same team without saying so. How to get guns without background checks. How to get barrels and attach them to firearms to make them fully automatic without leaving signs that you have done so. How to remove gun powder from tools and work benches and floors without leaving a trace. How to destroy permanent records of parcels shipped, so it cannot be tracked back to him. How to write letters and e-mails that cannot be traced back to him. How, after the fact, to donate money anonymously to charity, to appear heroic and kind and sad. How to get his story told in as many ways as possible. How to get his last name in as much of the story as possible. How to write his name in big letters in multiple parts of the story. How to mention his birth date a lot, and how to mention his birth place a lot, and how to mention his middle name a lot. How to mention his age, and trip over himself to understate his intelligence.<br><br>He is my son, and he is going to be a mass shooter. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to help. I don’t know why some people escape their sons, why some children can be as bad as this, and some parents can just escape, leave, drive away, escape into the world and never look back. How? Some people escape their children. Why didn’t we? What is wrong with us? I don’t know.<br><br>When I try to talk to my son about this, he laughs at me. He says the most deranged, disturbed, messed up shit I’ve ever heard. He says he will shoot up the local children’s hospital, on the day of the next major terror attack in the news, so the town doesn’t think it’s him. He says he’ll shoot up multiple places, in multiple towns on the same day. He says he’ll shoot up the wedding at the hotel, the shooting will bleed into the reception. So many people will die. So many women in their wedding dresses will be shredded by bullets. So many children will be shredded by bullets. He says he’ll shoot up the place where my wife volunteers. He says he’ll shoot up the places his siblings go. He says he’ll shoot up the places I go. He says he’ll shoot up a baseball game. He says he’ll shoot up the elementary, middle, and high schools he attended. He says he’ll shoot up the board of chaperones on the school bus, and all the children. All at once. He will start at the pick up stops, shoot up all the children on the bus, then drive to schools and other places. He will aim for the children. He says the most fucked up, deranged shit I’ve ever heard. I try to warn people about what he is going to do. I go to the police. They tell me to keep him at home, to keep an eye on him, to keep the guns away from him, to monitor his behavior, to get mental help for him. They don’t take me seriously. They don’t do anything to help. They don’t take my son to mental help. I try to get him committed, the system doesn’t work. The judge rules against me. The system is stupid. It’s designed to let them go. I try to get him an appointment with a child psychiatrist. It takes two years to get an appointment. I try to get him a job, to keep him busy, to pay his tuition, to get him mental help through the EIC program. He won’t get a job. He won’t give his social security number. He won’t talk to the counselors. He won’t do any help. I don’t know what to do.<br><br>I’ve tried to help him. I’ve tried to prevent him from doing what he’s going to do. I’ve gone to the police. I’ve tried to get him help. I’ve kept him at home, and fed and sheltered him. I don’t know what else to do.<br><br>I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know why he’s so dark. I don’t know why he’s going to do what he’s going to do. I don’t know why he hates children and women so much. I don’t know why he’s so angry, and how to help him with that anger. I don’t know why I didn’t escape him. I don’t know why I’ve stayed with him. I don’t know why I’ve helped him. I don’t know what else to do.<br><br>I’ve tried everything. I’ve gone to the police, and the mental health system, and the school system. I’ve tried to get him help, I’ve tried to prevent him from doing what he’s going to do. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.<br><br>My son is going to be a mass shooter. I don’t know why. I don’t know how to stop him. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know why I’ve stayed with him. I don’t know why I’ve helped him. I don’t know what else to do.<br><br>He’s going to shoot up a children’s hospital. On the day of the next terror attack. So the town won’t think it’s him. He’s going to shoot up multiple places in multiple towns on the same day. He’s going to shoot up the wedding at the hotel. The shooting will bleed into the reception. So many people will die. So many women in their wedding dresses will be shredded by bullets. So many children will be shredded by bullets. He is my son, and he is going to be a mass shooter.<br><br>I’m sorry. I try to help him. I try to prevent him from doing what he’s going to do. I go to the police, and the mental health system, and the school system. I try to get him help, I try to prevent him from doing what he’s going to do. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.<br><br>I don’t know why he’s so dark. I don’t know why he’s going to do what he’s going to do. I don’t know why he hates children and women so much. I don’t know why he’s so angry, and how to help him with that anger. I don’t know why I didn’t escape him. I don’t know why I’ve stayed with him. I don’t know why I’ve helped him. I don’t know what else to do.<br><br>Opinions and advice is appreciated.