Carl loved the attention of his Mummy and Daddy, but his best way to attain it was to be naughty. When he was naughty, he was smacked, then ignored again.
The farmers crops would not grow, so one day he left his young wife and child, and he never returned.
When Carl was eleven years old, he was arrested for being drunk in public. By the time he was thirteen, he was in reform school, being tied naked to a post, and beaten and molested. Carl was unhappy.
After more years in several Reform schools, Carl enlisted in the Army, were he was court-martialled and sent to Military Prison for three years. The charge was subordination. The jail was not a nice place.
After his time in military jail he was sent back into the world a young man. He became a petty thief to survive and spent most of his time in and out of prison. On the inside he was beaten and raped, on the outside he faired little better. Carl was sad. To live he had to eat, and to eat he had to steal.
By the time he was Twenty-Three, Carl was arrested on a charge of burglary. The Policeman involved promised they'd let him go if he told them were the jewels were hidden. Carl told them, and they sent him back to prison for seven years. That day, Carl decided he would make his mission thereafter in life, to do as much harm to his fellow man as possible. His mind was made up.
While in his cell for seven years, Carl wrote a long story about a boy who was never given love, and thus never learn to love - who was brutalised and raped in reformatories and prisons throughout his whole life, and whose bitterness had been only made deeper, and whose bitterness had only been made stronger. The boy developed a boundless resentment to the world, and the destructive instinct of retribution.
One particular day, a kind guard found Carls' story and read it. He was scarred and shocked, but also concerned. He decided to find the prisoner who wrote the story.
When the kind guard found Carl Panzram sitting in his dark cell, he asked, "What's your racket?" By this he meant "What are you in prison for?"
"I Reform people…" answered Carl.
The other prisoners laughed, knowingly.
The kind guard was apprehensive. Carl was but a dark silhouette in his cage; a massive shadow, with hulking shoulders and a bald, rock-like head. The kind guard asked what exactly he meant by 'reform'.
Carl answered stoically: "I believe the only way to reform people is to kill them."
The other prisoner laughed again.
Now the kind guard was really concerned. He went to find out as much as he could about the prisoner Carl Panzram. As he searched through the prison files, he was shocked to find that Panzram had a long record of only minor offences. He went to talk to the Head Warder.
The Head Warder of the prison thought the kind guard was a fool. He roared: "These prisoners are dangerous sub-humans, for who I have no sympathy." The kind guard thought the Head Warder was a fucknuckle.
Meanwhile back in his cell, Carl Panzram gripped the iron bars with his massive fists and bent them wide open. His resentment fuelled his massive strength. It took four guards to restrain him before he could escape. They took him down to the basement of the prison.
Carl screamed murderous threats as they tied him to a cement pillar. The guards then beat Carl with metal bars, but he only roared louder. They kicked and punched him, but he only promised them their death. This continued into the morning.
The following day when the kind guard was passing the cells, he saw Carls body bloody and battered, lying naked on the cold cement floor. Carl muttered an acknowledgment, but as another guard past by, Carl summoned all his strength and spat: 'Son of a bitch!'
The guards returned and took Carl back to the torture chamber, where they tied his arms behind the pillar. Another rope was thrown over a high beam and Panzram was lifted up until his toes only just touched the ground. His shoulders were dislocated. The pain was so intense that Carl fell unconscious. He was left like this for twelve hours - a guard checking his heart on the hour so as he wouldn't slip into death.
The next day was much the same. When Carl was put back in his cell, he cursed the first guard that past, promising that he would kill them and nothing but his own death would stop him. The guard took him back to the basement, tied him up and beat him unconscious with a blackjack. But Carl regained consciousness and roared as if possessed by a demon. The guard tried to beat him harder, but nothing could stop the rage that flowed like electricity through his body. He screamed defiance and thrashed like a shark as the guard attacked him with anything he could get his hands on - planks, chairs, even a high-powered fire extinguisher - but nothing could silence him.
The following morning the kind guard found Carls body broken on his cell floor, 'though he was still alive - and his spirit far from broken. The kind guard gave a fellow prisoner a dollar, saying: 'Give this to Carl Panzram'. Later, when the prisoner placed the dollar in Carls hand, he threw in down, thinking it was a joke. When he realised it wasn't, his eyes filed with tears.
That night Carl called out to the kind guard and the two talked through the night. The kind guard realised that Carl had in fact murdered more than twenty people in his life and that his intentions were to murder as many more as possible. He felt that people were no good and did not deserve to live. He felt the same about himself. The kind guard was shocked and saddened, and asked if Carl had ever been loved. Carl answered nonplussed: 'No.' When the kind guard asked if Carl had ever loved anyone else, Carl looked to the floor and answered quietly: "I think I may have once loved a woman on the outside - but I rapped her and killed her."
Carl told the kind guard that he'd even read the great German Philosopher Arthur Shopenhauer while in incarceration, who had only confirmed his belief that life was a trap, a misfortune, in which suffering was the rule and all human life was a delusion.
The next day Carl Panzram was working in the kitchen, washing piles of dishes. The fat cook disliked Panzram - and blew his cigar smoke all over him. The feeling was mutual. On this particular day, Panzram snapped, picked up a huge boiling cauldron, his hands steaming, and threw it over the fat cook, melting him into a screaming, bloody slosh.
Carl grabbed an iron bar and smashed his way through the prison like a typhoon of anger, breaking out and escaping, leaving large parts of the prison aflame.
The first thing Carl did on the outside was steel enough money to sail to Africa. When he got there he hired a boat and six Negroes to accompany him crocodile hunting. However when they were deep in the backwater swamps, Carl murdered each of the black hunters, sodomised them, and fed their bodies to the crocs.
Carl raped and murdered as many people as he could - just as he had decided all those years ago - until he was finally caught and once again imprisoned. This time for life without Parol.
When Carl re-met the kind guard, he thanked him for being 'the only screw who ever did him a favour'. But his opinion on the value of human existence had not changed. The next day the guards found him helplessly lying on the grounds outside the prison, both legs snapped in two. He'd tried to escape by jumping from a five-metre cement wall.
The Head Warder decided that the sub-human Panzram was beyond reform and thus deserved to die. Carl couldn't have agreed more.
On the day of the execution, the Christians pleaded that it was wrong to kill a prisoner, even one as bad as Carl Panzram. But Panzram called them 'bible-backed hypocrites'. He roared at the crowed: "Some of you I've executed. If I live I'll executed some more of you. I hate the whole human race…I believe the whole human race should be exterminated. I'll do my best to do it every chance I get. I've done my duty, now you do yours!"
When the Christians pleaded further that an eye-for-an-eye punishment was not at all justice, Carl laughed with rage. "I believe it is justice, and I am quite sincere when I say that this is the first and only time in my life of battling with the Law that I ever did get justice from the Law. The only thanks that you and your kind will ever get from me is that I wish the whole world had one neck, and that I had my hands on it."
As Carl was led to the platform, he barked at the guards. "Hurry it up, you bastards! I could hang a dozen men while you're fooling around!"
Soon, standing on the board before a society he detested, Carl got his wish. The trapdoor fell, and his neck was broke. The kind guard, who was present at the hanging, remarked: "He was a remarkable man in his fierceness, in his restless mental activity and in his great embitteredness. I have always carried him in my mind as the logical product of our prison system."