My ex-boyfriend is a serial killer

**Note: I’m sure I’ve posted this somewhere else on Reddit at some point in time. It’s just a weird story so I thought I’d share it here.**<br><br><br>My first serious boyfriend was a total sweetheart. He was nice, attentive, and made me feel safe and protected when I was with him. The whole nine yards. He was a little older than me and had been around the hit for a while so he was pretty savvy. Sometimes he’d tell me little tips and tricks about life and how to look after myself in certain situations. I kind of wish I’d paid more attention to most of it, because it ended up not being very useful in the long run anyway.<br><br>We were together for about 3 years, and I grew to trust him more than my own family. He was like a best friend to me. I’d do anything for him and he the same for me. When we broke up we both agreed it was because we wanted very different things from life. He wanted to travel, and I wanted to develop a career. It wasn’t a messy breakup. I still loved him, but we both agreed that we wouldn’t be happy if we stayed together, and that we owed it to ourselves and to each other to break up.<br><br>We stayed in touch and remained good friends. I went to visit him on and off when he lived a few hours away from me after he got a job there. I still cared for him a great deal, but I no longer felt any romance towards him. I wasn’t sure, but I just think that maybe the breakup made me see him in a different way or something. We had both moved on, but we were still friends.<br><br>One day I received a text from him that I will never forget. It was 3 words: “I’m in trouble” He told me he’d always wanted to be a police officer because he was a very selfless person and always wanted to do something that would help the community and look after people. I’d known that growing up, his father was a cop as well. The text continued that he wanted to join a more elite police task force that dealt with more serious crimes, like murder. In order to do that he had to work with people who were considered to be potential “good” serial killers, who had committed murders in the past but were deemed acceptable to become police officers. I was horrified. I did not understand why he thought this was a good idea, and I was angry that he had kept this information from me for so long.<br><br>Over the next few weeks, he kept me updated on the process that he was going through. I didn’t think much of it, but then things started to escalate. He started telling me that the people around him were acting very strangely and he was starting to feel uncomfortable. He was being kept in a locked facility for the duration that he was training. He wasn’t allowed to leave and was constantly being watched and recorded. He didn’t trust anyone and was overwhelmed. He wanted out but didn’t know how to back out gracefully. He didn’t want to be seen as weak, so he stayed in training and came out the other side and was soon about to start as a police officer in the force he had chosen.<br><br>It was a few months later when I received the first phone call. It was from him, and he sounded absolutely terrified. He just kept saying, “I have to get out.” He didn’t elaborate. Now I was really worried. I was still in love with him, and the thought of anything bad happening to him tore me in two. I kept pushing him to tell me more, but he just kept saying he had to get out, and how he couldn’t trust anyone around him and he needed to get out before it was too late. I started to believe that something sinister was going on, and that I needed to help him. I asked him if he had considered going to the authorities, but the answer was no. He didn’t know how high up it went, but he had only been a low level person in the scheme of things.<br><br>I never thought that the things he said would escalate so quickly. I honestly thought it would all blow over in the end and be nothing but a bad memory. And then I started receiving disturbing phone calls from him at random hours of the night. He’d talk about how he’d seen people being murdered in front of him and that he’d been instructed to “clean them up.” He didn’t say where the bodies were taken, but the more I learned just pushed me closer and closer to the edge. I was so terrified of the situation that I started to contemplate running. I thought about leaving the country and going somewhere where I couldn’t be found. But I wasn’t brave enough to abandon him. I knew full well that nobody was going to believe me, and that I’d be considered a loony conspiracy theorist if I went to anyone. I couldn’t convince myself how bad it was until I really heard him properly. And it changed everything.<br><br>I remember it like it was yesterday, because it is forever imprinted in my memory. He called me, and he was trembling. He was in a house, surrounded by dead bodies. He told me the names and ages of them. They were young girls. No older than 18. He said the house was filled with a stench, and he’d never seen anything so horrible in his life before. He’d been instructed to “get rid of them”, but he said he couldn’t. I locked myself in my bedroom and I shook. I knew he had to get out. I begged him to get out. But he’s seen too much. He told me that he couldn’t get out, because they’d follow him. He didn’t want me or my family to be hurt. I told him that we could just run, but he said he’d follow him anywhere. He said he knew that he’d be caught even if he ran for his life. I didn’t want to believe him, and I tried to tell him there was a way he’d be able to get out. He just kept telling me that he didn’t want me or my family to be hurt. And then he hung up.<br><br>I never heard from him again. I didn’t even know where to start. I tried calling him, but his phone was completely dead. I didn’t know how to contact anyone to report this, because I genuinely couldn’t trust anybody. I didn’t want to put myself or my family at risk. I tried to push it to the back of my mind but eventually it was too much. My mental health was suffering, and I knew I had to do something.<br><br>In the end I went to the police. I told them everything. They believed me, or at least I think they did. Maybe they thought I was a crazy conspiracy theorist, and they just sent me on my way. I didn’t really expect anything to come out of it, and it didn’t. I never heard about a missing persons case or anything to do with the things he told me. I just hope that he is safe. Sometimes I wonder if he made it out, or if he’s still trapped in that violent and terrifying place.<br><br>I don’t know how true it is, but I know I got a glimpse into a world that is incredibly twisted. I only hope that nobody else has to go through the same poison as I did. That was the last time I ever heard his voice.