In the depths of my insatiable thirst for the macabre, I found myself ensnared in a labyrinth of True Crime tales and the twisted exploits of A-list serial killers. “Binge” doesn’t suffice to capture the voracious hunger with which I devoured every shred of depravity. I delved into a cesspool of darkness, scavenging through crime scene reports, haunting photographs, and chilling autopsy reports. I spared no detail, for I craved the raw essence of human savagery.

Among the myriad pathologies and methodologies of these predators, one name resonated with an eerie allure: BTK. Behind the façade of a mundane suburban existence lurked a sinister artist, crafting his atrocities with a meticulous hand. His modus operandi, though abhorrent to most, held a perverse beauty, drawing me deeper into his twisted world.

“To BTK or not to BTK” serves as a testament to my morbid fascination with this dark artistry. Dare to entertain the unsettling question: “What if?” regarding his heinous deeds.