Did I ever tell y’all about the time I discovered my uncle was a serial killer?

I was 12,and playing in an abandoned car in my uncle’s backyard,looking at old Black Tail magazines and whatnot. I come across this trash bag filled with white,bloodstained,men’s & women’s left shoes.

So I go ask my uncle what’s up with the weird bag fulla dirty shoes(blood dries brown,I didn’t know what it was & what I’d actually discovered until a few years later)and without looking at me he just sternly says “No...”

It wasn’t until HS that I realized “Holy. Fucking. Shit! That was blood... Those were trophies... This muthafucka is,or was,a gawdamned serial killer!”

Never captured. Never suspected or in any trouble with the law(as far as I know). He was a truck driver(extremely cliché). Had a wife & kids. Shit was wild.