Scientology: A Cult for Rapists and Murderers

🚨 trigger warning 🚨

Welcome back to another episode of me apparently begging Scientology to come for me.

I'll be honest, I had a completely different blog in mind for this week. That one will still be coming, but this particular blog has been swirling in the back of my mind for too long now. And recently, it's been screaming at me. Blame it on the full moon, spooky season, maybe something's in retrograde? For whatever reason, it felt like the time to drop this particular bombshell.

I was a Scientologist for over a decade. For five of those years, I was on staff at one of their largest churches in America, working as an "auditor." Per their definition, an auditor translates to "one who listens." Technically, I was a spiritual counselor specifically trained in the ways of Scientology.

This also means that I was personally responsible for getting some of the worst kinds of people to confess their worst wants and deeds to me.

My biggest takeaway from all of this?

There are so many more rapists and murderers walking among us than we know.

Let's dive in, shall we?

Would you like to buy a copy of Dianetics?

Scientology: A Cult for Rapists and Murderers

When I first got involved with Scientology, and I really want to stress this point, it seemed sane and rational. I was reading the beginning books, taking self esteem courses, being coached on setting boundaries, and going in session to help me feel better about things going on in my life. I hate to say it, but for a brief moment in time... it worked.

There's a quote I feel is especially poignant here, from Daniel Quinn's The Story of B:

"If you drop a frog in a pot of boiling water, it will of course frantically try to clamber out. But if you place it gently in a pot of tepid water and turn the heat on low, it will float there quite placidly. As the water gradually heats up, the frog will sink into a tranquil stupor, exactly like one of us in a hot bath, and before long, with a smile on its face, it will unresistingly allow itself to be boiled to death."

I say all of this to say, the stories that follow are going to sound insane. If any rational person had just walked into any of these situations, they would run away screaming. And rightfully so. I should have run away screaming so many times.

But they never start you with the crazy.

They make sure you are good and brainwashed before they make you lock yourself in a little room, or travel to another state to take them in session while completely isolated, with a known rapist and/or murderer.

These are their stories.

*Names have been changed, not to protect the guilty, but to protect myself.

"This is where it happened"

Kevin

Kevin didn't scare me at first. He worked in accounting, he was in his 50s I believe, but he had a very small frame, and due to cancer and radiation he appeared very skeletal. He had always been cordial whenever we would interact, almost shy and sweet. He worked in the cult, we were co-workers, so I saw him most every day. He would get frustrated when things would go wrong, and he would snap or throw something in a little fit, but it always felt more like someone over-compensating for something.

After taking him in session for months, I got a very different picture of him.

He grew up short and skinny, and we know men can be vicious to those they see as "beneath them." He was shy and awkward, so girls didn't pay attention to him either. This resulted in a very bitter and angry young man.

By the 1970s he was addicted to pornography. The sex shops were... different back then. You could rent a little booth to watch porn in private. And yes, you guessed exactly what was going on in those booths.

This further warped his perception of women. I do not blame pornography for this whatsoever, to be very clear, neither porn nor video games create evil people. But broken people engrossing themselves in violent imagery can create negative results.

I can honestly say I don't know if this man has ever had sex, it never came up in session that I can remember. Women, and sex, became an obsession for him, that never went away. There would be days I would not be able to take him in session because he had stayed awake the entire night before watching porn. There would be times he would watch it non-stop for days on end without sleeping. No breaks. Just porn.

Back in the 70s or 80s, his obsession became dangerous.

He would park along a street, or in a parking lot somewhere, and just wait, and watch.

Then when a women came along that he liked he would follow her. As far as I know, it didn't go further than that.

This went on for years. I still don't know if I ever got the entire story out of him.

But he had a kit in the trunk. Duct tape. Rope. Mask. Knife.

And he was briefly in the Sea Org, before they found out about this and kicked him out. But he was never kicked out of the cult, he just wasn't allowed in the Sea Org anymore.

Natasha

I won't tell her whole story. Even in death, she doesn't deserve that.

Natasha was a sad, lost soul. If memory serves, she grew up in a different deeply religious cult, and was already broken when Scientology found her.

She was trying to make it on her own, and found a man that she loved. She lived with him and his family in a big, beautiful home. The family was wealthy, and she was living the good life working as an in-home caregiver for the aging matriarch.

She got along great with the mother, but her daughter, the sister of Natasha's partner, was apparently not a pleasant woman.

Natasha had been helping the matriarch to get healthy again, but the daughter didn't like that, so she demanded she be taken off the drugs that were helping her.

This left the matriarch's health declining rapidly, and she was miserable.

So Natasha put a pillow over her face one night, until she knew that she was gone.

And then acted surprised the next day when someone else found her.

The cult knew. I was never allowed to tell anyone. She died less than a year after I left. Sadly, she became an alcoholic. Her life was not an easy one, this was but one of many horrific things she had done and gone through. She got drunk one night, wandered out into the freezing night, and passed away in her sleep.

Mac

Enough sympathy. Let's move on to someone that made my soul throw up every time I heard his name.

My ex was friends with this man. He stayed in our house one night.

Until I made it abundantly clear to my partner that he was not to be let into our home ever again.

I'm still not convinced he didn't do horrific things to my cat. And my underwear drawer. I had my reasons to be suspicious. And my partner called me crazy for it.

He is the reason we choose the bear.

I wish I could remember any specific stories from his past. But he was the kind of man so obsessed with his disgusting self that telling one 30 second story would take over half an hour, and he would be staring at you like he wanted to wear your skin the entire time.

I don't want to yuck anyone's yum. I am not here to kink shame.

But this man was not okay.

Sex was pain to him.

I learned more about sounding from him than I ever wanted to know. But it wasn't in a healthy or safe manner. There would be sharp, dirty instruments involved.

He became obsessive with every woman he encountered. It was even worse with the women who would take him in session. He would write pages and pages about all of the things he "forgot" to talk about in session; which would really just be pages of obsessive writing about her beauty and the disgusting things he wanted to do with her.

He started to do this with me. He later demanded to switch to another auditor. I wouldn't let him fluster me. I forced him to stick to the point and tell me exactly what he did. He didn't like that.

Everything was about sex to him. So everything was about pain to him. Even doing a simple grounding exercise with him, having him look at various things in the room, would result in him becoming "aroused," and going on about "past life visions" he would be having about sexual fantasies, bodies, dismembered parts, and blood. Aroused really isn't the right word. The closest word would be hungry.

I think my brain did me a favor when it grouped all of his stories into one big ball of horrors. He would fantasize about the 11 year old girls at the church. He masturbated everywhere, all the time.

Although I could never get a straight answer out of him, his stories would always change and shift, but I know beyond a shadow of doubt he has absolutely raped multiple people.

And he killed a man over a drug deal gone wrong. He was arrested for that one.

He joined the cult and started going in session with us after he got out of prison.

Jesse

Jesse was a very attractive man. He was in great shape, warm smile, he was friendly, charming, but not cocky. He would put you at ease, it was so easy to have a conversation and joke with him. I even briefly had a crush on him, before the whole truth came out.

He was obsessed with sex and pornography. Unfortunately, he was also deeply confused about his sexuality, and suffering from things that a cult could never properly help him with. A part of him knew that he was born in the wrong body, he was supposed to be a woman, and unfortunately he hated himself for it. It broke my heart for him, and it only served to deepen his fixation on darker and stranger porn. I hadn't even heard of "hypno porn" until him.

My pity for him ended the second his proclivities came to light.

He became obsessed with the pre-pubescent girls at the church, and would fantasize about them sexually.

He met up and had sex with a girl who was still in high school when he was in his 30s.

Oh, and there is an episode of Criminal Minds based on him. They even used his real name. We joked about it in session. The story and themes in that episode are not included above.

Alex

I almost didn't include Alex.

I firmly believe that Alex is a victim of the cult, and of the patriarchy.

There are so many men who may have had a chance if they had been allowed to explore their sexuality in a healthy manner, with consenting partners.

But this man turned into a sexual predator. Hurt people do not have to hurt people.

Even though he was married, with a toddler at home, he would drive around at night in his pick-up truck with only one thing on his mind.

With porn playing on his cell phone, and his private parts pulled out of his pants, he would pull up beside women walking alone at night and pretend that he needed directions.

It was a game to him. He would intentionally leave his cell phone where they could see it, and touch himself while he spoke to them.

He would also spy on his neighbors and masturbate.

We went out for a smoke break during our first session, and he thought it would be funny to point out his truck; the truck that he was just telling me he would drive around in to prey on women.

"That's the one. Ha."

Owen

I had to go in session myself about this man. Repeatedly.

He was in his 70s when I started taking him in session. I would make a point every now and then to casually remind him that he was the same age as my parents. Surprisingly, that never made much of a difference to him.

He was a recluse, living a few hours away from the church. He was also very wealthy; his parents had passed away with a large farm in rural Kentucky, leaving him millions.

Naturally, when the cult found out, they milked him for most of it. Between loans for other people, and endless services for himself, he was treated like a VIP. Unfortunately for me, this meant that I was forced to become his private auditor, and he would pay for me to go and stay in town to audit him full time for a few weeks on end.

Believe me when I say that I had to fight tooth and bloody nail to make sure that I was NOT staying with him, I was staying in a hotel 20 minutes away.

When I say that he was a recluse, that is putting it nicely. He had no friends outside of the cult many hours away, he never left his house, and this resulted in a man who was incredibly self-absorbed while also lacking any semblance of self awareness. He didn't bathe. You could smell him from outside of his house. He came in to the church for session one time, and I couldn't use my room again for days. His toenails were inches long. His teeth were rotting. He may have been "older," but he was also roughly six and a half feet tell, and built like a farmer.

And because it was literally my job to take an interest in him, he became obsessed with me.

Part of a Scientology session includes confessing to anything you've been feeling guilty about. While in session, you're holding onto metal cans that are attached to an e-meter; like a lie detector. Depending on how the needle moves, we have to ask certain questions. Can you imagine the kinds of distracting thoughts a sexually starved and obsessed man could be having in a session with a woman he found attractive?

For hours every day, I would have to listen to the horrific fantasies this man was having about me. He would go to sleep at night masturbating and fantasizing about raping me.

Yes, obviously, I reported this. Again. And again. And again. I would refuse to go audit him. Again. And again. And again. It started coming up in my own sessions as something I felt guilty about because I knew I was breaking the rules of the cult by continuing to audit this man.

I was forced to keep going back. I did not have a choice. Because I was a Scientologist, not a weak woman. I was an auditor. We were supposed to be the strongest people on the planet. Surely I was stronger than this. I went back more times than I can count. I was on a first name basis with everyone at the hotel, and the Mexican joint nearby. It didn't matter how hard I fought it, he was a VIP, and we needed the money.

The room that we used for an auditing space was in his library in the basement. I knew exactly the proper escape routes to use. I would set up the room so I had the least amount of steps to the door. I made sure my purse was always on the table directly behind me, with my keys sticking out of the front pocket. I kept a knife right beside them.

Nothing ever happened with him. To me. But he was a ticking time bomb. I have cut ties, I do not know what has happened to him since. But if his heart doesn't give out first, it is only a matter of time before he can no longer stop himself.

The Gnome

I saved the worst for last.

This man is a monster.

He was in his 60s or 70s when I first took him in session. He looked like a harmless little troll, a big goofy smile, always ready and willing to work and go above and beyond. He was hired on staff at the cult, I saw him every single day.

Even though he was convicted of murdering his first wife

To be fair, I honestly can't remember if she survived or not. Because that part of the story wasn't as important to him as the fact that she had insulted his honor.

They were married back when he was a young man, in the late '60s I want to say.

Shortly after they were married, he had to leave town for a while for work. After a week or so I want to say, he returned home looking for his new bride. But she was nowhere to be found.

So he started wandering around town, popping into the local shops to ask if anyone had seen her. He kept hearing stories about her with this man, and that man. Every person he spoke to had a story about her with someone else. Then he caught wind that she had actually left him, and was staying with her sister.

He "flew into a blind rage." But somehow, was calm enough to walk into the local hunting store, and purchase the biggest knife he could find.

Then, he went to her sister's apartment, where she lived with her children. The sister opened the door, he demanded to see his wife. The children heard the commotion and came out to see what was happening.

He then stabbed his wife. Repeatedly. In front of the children. Until he was sure she was dead.

He was arrested, naturally.

But the judge took pity on him. Of course The Gnome was embarrassed, what she did was unthinkable. Who could blame him for what he did?

At least that's how he told the story to me.

He didn't go to prison, but he did spend many years in a psychiatric institute for the criminally insane.

Even after all of this came to light, having been in a psychiatric institute is supposed to disqualify you from Scientology all together in case you're a "plant," and you know murder is bad, he was still invited onto staff.

Eventually, I became his auditor.

He would repeatedly expose himself to me in session. Repeatedly.

After I had reported it enough times that they had to do something, they just asked him about it.

He denied it.

So he was moved to a different auditor, and I was sent to Ethics to be punished for not having control of my session.

Pretty sure I'll just be reading this blog to my trauma therapist in my next session

These are just the worst stories that always stick at the front of my mind when I ponder why women almost unanimously choose the bear.

These men and their actions alone are bad enough.

But why were we exposed to them? Why were there so many of them?

Because Scientology is a haven for rapists and murderers.

Some could even say the same of the patriarchy.

Men like this continue to get away with it and go on to victimize even more women because no one is being held accountable.

In a group like Scientology, they intentionally uncover and record your worst deeds, so that you will think twice before leaving and turning on them. It's a boys club. If one person sounds an alarm, suddenly they're the one in the spotlight.

So everyone goes around covering up for everyone else, and the ones who would dare to stand against them catch the wrath of hell.

Bring it on.

Time's up

Let's Wrap It Up

Well. That happened.

I wish I could say that I had exaggerated any part of that. I wish I could say that I just made it all up for clicks.

But unfortunately, none of my platforms are monetized. And my trauma therapist can attest that yeah... Some things probably went down while I was in the cult.

All we can do now is share the hell out of this blog. We get nowhere by letting Tom Cruise star in blockbuster after blockbuster, while this is what exactly is being funded by those Hollywood paychecks.

We don't end the reign of terror by staying silent. Tell your stories. Get enough truth out there so that they can stop denying that this is a very real problem.

I'm gonna go touch some grass and then hug my knees in the shower for the next business month ✌️