In full - 'Killing Darci', the document found on murder accused Graham Dwyer's laptop that judge deemed unfit for public to listen to in court
American woman Darci Day gave evidence this week at the trial of Graham Dwyer who denies the murder of Elaine O'Hara.
She told how she came into contact with him through a fetish website. The following day the judge cleared the public from the court when a document entitled Killing Darci taken from a hard drive at Dwyer's home was read out in court.
Here we reproduce the document read into evidence in full - NOT SUITABLE FOR UNDER 18s as it contains material of graphic nature.
Months had gone by and soon the day would finally arrive.
From the first email I knew this one was special. I had always fantasised about killing ever since I was a teenager and I got hard every time I had a knife in my hand, wielding the power knowing that I could decide who lived and died, just like my hero, God.
Every time I made love, every time I would come, I wondered what opening a throat would feel like. Every time I closed my eyes I’m wondering how it would feel for a hard cold steel blade to push itself in and destroy everything in its path.
My addiction grew, just like any addiction, and soon I met girls who needed pain and suffering as much as I needed to give it.
Bondage, rape, slashing and stabbing soon became my hobby and acquiring two fine subs over the years and having role play with others.
I was the lucky one I knew there were 100 men like me for every one of the girls I played with. I always managed to win them over, partly because I knew what I was doing and partly because I could show others what I was capable of.
The scenarios grew and grew and I could not satisfy my blood lust. Around the time I considered crossing the line, one of my subs came to me and asked for the ultimate, to help her to die.
This was discussed and planned at length. Ultimately the decision would be hers unless I took the power away from her. But, the trail, the mess… too many lose ends, how many times had our phones been switched on at the same place at the same time?
Now I knew it was in me to do it.
I thought about stabbing a stranger to satisfy my lust for a while. To take a life in return for an orgasm...a video clip I would watch over and over again. A memory I would have in to my old age.
Having been responsible for creating three lives, wasn’t I entitled to take just one? But who?
I considered finding someone suicidal or terminally ill or both. I knew there were many out there, 400 to 500 suicides a year in a small country with four million people.
If someone takes their own life here the insurance will not pay out if death by misadventure is recorded. Why not become a random murder victim?
You get to die, your family do not blame you, but blame me, you are free from the sin of taking your own life and I’m carrying the sin of killing you.
When she first came in to my life I knew her only as Cassie. I would later learn the significance of this name and make me fall deeper in love with her.
Someone who ticked all the boxes: beautiful, young, smart and clear about what she wanted and critically wanting to die the same way I wanted to kill. This was a rare marriage indeed.
For weeks we shared videos, images and worked out the details of how she’d come to me and die in my care and my responsibly. It’s not a responsibility I shouldered lightly; I fully understand the depth of the work.
I had been posting her a few hundred dollars every few months here and there; money transfers could be traced. This did a few things for us: she could settle her debts, tie up her loose ends, give her a clear conscience… freedom from material possession and indebtedness. I was happy to give her this relief, knowing the biggest relief was yet to come.
She had enough for a bus to Boston and a ticket to Dublin and didn’t have to work the last few weeks. She had time to visit her friends and family and spend time with her beloved dog her brother will take care of.
Her departing would cause some pain to her mom, brother and dad... it would fade in time and would be a fraction of pain she carried around in her head 24 hours day.
She came to me with only hand luggage, so as not to arouse suspicion, and wearing the silver chain had I posted her. Soon this chain would be mine again when I removed it from her ruined throat.
No keys… no phone… no wallet, just money and her favourite outfit. Underneath… the special under garments that would soon be blood soaked and in ribbons around her ankles.
She smiled at me and gave me a huge thank you hug at the airport, grateful for what I was about to do for her. She rested her head on my arm all the way to the place I had prepared and gazed at the beautiful, green scenery as we drove through the mountains on the back roads.
The sun was setting as we arrived at cabin; she knew she wouldn’t see another sunset. We did not say much, we had nothing to say. We had prepared everything in the greatest detail; it like watching a movie we had written and directed.
She had a meal that would never leave her body; she tasted her last favourite food and last drink. We were nervous and excited but placid.
I gave her every opportunity turn around. She even had a return ticket, but this is what she wanted. She played with my knife, stroking her skin with it and testing its sharpness. I used her computer to wipe our accounts. She posted her suicide video.
We knew people would be wondering where she was, that story she gave to her family they no knew wasn’t true; she was gone about 12 hours now and they were starting to worry.
When they would see video they would understand. They might realised she went to Ireland but … too late. I was planning to take her clothes, case and laptop to a popular suicide spot, a cliff, and her family might think she was somewhere across the Atlantic and think of her lovingly when they look out over coast of Maine.
It was dark now, there was complete silence, just the wind outside.
Without speaking, she put on her iPod, which was loaded with a play list, carefully chosen. As she pressed play I closed my eyes, knowing the sequence and at which song to start
I carefully undressed and moved my clothes. She did not need to see the shovel, bleach and bags of lime I had stored. I was trying to make this as perfect for her as I could. She knew the cameras were on us.
For the last time we embraced, kissed passionately and made love, in contrast to the brutal rape she would endure, and worse.
I stroked her hair and tears away, trying not to mess her perfect make up. She was so beautiful and perfect. She turned her back to me when we finished and I put on my mask and gloves.
I could hear her fear. I grabbed her arm roughly; she didn’t resist. I tied her roughly on a mattress on the ground, which was lying on plastic. She knew this would be her coffin and she rubbed cheek on it as she squirmed.
She gasped and shook, afraid of what was about to happen.
She knew He was watching and waiting to take her home to see her gran and her old dog. He did nothing to stop the events here. Who wouldn’t want such a pretty angel by his side? I knew she would watch over me and look after me after I killed her.
She was lying on her back all beautiful and sexy, her arms laid out. I sliced her bra open from the middle and marvelled at her magnificent tits. I sat on her thighs.
I would kill her harder if she fought back and she started her last fight, even though we both knew she would lose.
I entered her roughly, she was hot and wet with excitement and… tightened as I raped her and my knuckles whitened as I tightened the grip around the knife in my left hand.
Cameras rolling… she closed her eyes and I sank the knife deep in to her belly, two inches above her belly button. She gasped and cried out. We both looked… blood gurgling. My cock was throbbing harder now … the thrusting of the knife.
I withdrew the knife from her belly. Her skin followed with a bloody slurping sound. A most beautiful perfect oval stab wound.
I stabbed her again harder and again and again, she gasped each time almost in relief as the knife went in and out of her perfect body and her life blood flowed down her sides.
Knowing there wasn’t much time left, I grabbed her hair with my right hand and with the knife in my left we gazed into each other’s eyes and I could feel her orgasm coming. Her breath was quickening now.
I rested the knife on her throat and she could feel the coolness even though it was dripping with blood.
She moaned as I withdrew my cock. Barely able to contain my come, I looked in to her eyes for the last time, pulled her hair back, exposing her beautiful throat.
I pushed the knife deep in to her jugular and as I drew it across, she screamed in pain and orgasm as a jet of dark blood sprayed across my face, ceiling and walls that would soon be in flames.
She was dying now as her orgasm passed, and pulses from her slit throat were weaker and weaker. I could feel her slipping away as her body went quieter and quieter.
As the twitching stopped and she breathed her last, I came deep within her womb, my seed seeking eggs that would now never hatch. In my grief I stabbed her over and over again and again all across her chest, her tits.
I stabbed her through the heart and her belly about 20 – 30 times until it was a ruined bloody mess of guts and organs.
After 10 - 15 minutes, I sat beside her holding her hands. She was still warm and leaking blood.
I rolled her on to her front, exposing her beautiful back. I closed her eyes and mounted her again from behind, sinking in to her ass. I rode her hard, stabbing her in the back as I fucked her corpse.
My blade jammed between her vertebrae, breaking off the tip. I slit her throat from ear to ear, higher up from where I had opened it earlier, I reached in and pulled her tongue through the slit, Colombian neck tie.
I lay with her for hours as she went cold. I feel asleep on her body like that for hours.
It was dawn when I woke up and she was stiff and pale. All the blood was crispy and matted everywhere. So much of it I thought at least eight pints.
I removed the silver necklace from around her neck and kept it an old tin box what would soon also contain the memory card from the camera to be kept in a very special place.
I took my last photos and carried her body to the bathroom where I washed it lovingly and carefully. I went over every inch where knife went in. She would have been proud of me and I hoped she was watching me.
I gazed in to her lifeless eyes and gaping throat, I soaked her body in bleach… covered it in lime. All sexy and stabbed, her throat slit.
I tied her body to the mattress and wrapped the whole thing in plastic and carried it to the car. It was a short distance to the spot I had prepared her grave, a place I would visit many times and ask for forgiveness for what I had done.
The Trial continues.