Raulhac, Cantal September 1, 1905
I killed François at Raulhac.
And I've come to turn myself in.
Bruno Reidal Confession of a Murderer
Reidal!
Follow me!
I want your hands very stiff. No movement.
Lean on the chair.
The picture will be blurry.
You need to help him, please.
Bruno Reidal is currently a young man of 17
Height 1m62
Weight 50.5 kilos.
Breathe.
Slowly.
Close your eyes.
His overall appearance is delicate.
A weak build.
Narrow chest.
Small muscles.
And overall, a thin and puny body.
That should be fine.
Look at the camera!
His gentle and worried expression gives his physiognomy an indescribable melancholy.
To all of us ...
... he seems taciturn, or sly.
The mimicry, as a whole, shows a lack of spontaneity.
We could even say a lack of frankness.
If he hadn't been the first to let us know ...
... that he has the old habit of controlling and hiding his emotions.
"It's when I'm most tormented by my ideas of murder."
He told us
"That I'm at my most calm and quiet."
You know the reason for our presence, don't you?
- You want to know whether I'm ill or not.
- What is your opinion on the matter?
- I'm not mad.
I don't want that.
My comrades who call me mad.
I won't be able to tell them otherwise.
- Excuse me, Bruno, but there is one thing I don't quite understand.
When first commissioned ...
... the experts' report was very clear.
I will read it to you.
Bruno Reidal is abnormal from the point of view ...
... of the satisfaction of the sexual instinct.
A sadist, bloodthirsty, lucid and aware.
But sadism implies neither irresponsibility ...
... nor madness.
So why did you contest this report?
Since he clearly states you are not mad.
- They twisted what I said.
They wanted to make me look like a hardened criminal.
- If I understand correctly ...
... you don't want to be considered either a madman or a criminal.
Is that right?
But there is a reason you're here, isn't there?
You still killed an innocent child.
By cutting off his head.
Do you have anything to say to that?
- Bruno?
Look at me.
They told us you were an excellent student.
And that you were hardworking.
Well, I would like you to perform a task for me.
A task I sometimes ask of those who seem sincere, honest and intelligent like you.
I would like you to write down the story of your life.
Your memoirs, in other words.
I'd like you to express in your own words what's on your mind.
It would probably help us understand you better.
- What must I write about?
- Everything.
You will have to tell the whole truth.
We are not your judges. But we must know everything.
Information about my family.
I was born in Raulhac.
In Cantal.
June 12, 1888.
I remember that during my early years ...
... I lived with my parents, my grandparents ...
... as well as my brothers and sisters.
My parents were married in 1871.
My father was 32 then.
My mother 25.
From this marriage, six children were born.
All of them survived.
Marie, the oldest of my brothers and sisters ...
... she's 34 now.
She had 4 children.
The first died at Raulhac.
At home. He was a few months old.
The second, Antoine, lives in Paris and runs a restaurant.
In 1900 he had thoughts of suicide and persecution.
You can sit down.
The Lord Jesus showed us God's love for children and the little ones.
“Let the little children come to me."
Third child, Joseph.
Currently he's a soldier in a regiment of the line.
He fought with his classmates.
And beat the animals.
We believe Jesus died. And rose again from the dead.
Likewise we believe, God and his son will take those who have fallen asleep—
Eugénie, 23 years old.
She is not married and still lives with my mother in Raulhac.
She was anaemic.
She had nervous attacks and quite serious illnesses.
The youngest, Jules, is thirteen.
Cheeky and sneaky.
For him, the end always justifies the means.
My mother, Marie Ramond. Born August 15, 1846.
She was, apparently, headstrong in her youth.
She is easily irritated.
Very thin-skinned and very sensitive.
Give me your knife.
Look! Do you think we should peel it so thick?
When she hit us, it was always with violence.
She rarely gave us hugs or kisses.
"You will do precisely,"
She told us,
"what you say you don't want to do."
“I learned early to work and to suffer.”
"So will you!"
Right, go and put it in the shade, over there.
My father, Jean-Marie.
Born in 1839.
He was a man of medium height, who wore a full beard.
Watch closely. Later you can do it on your own.
Are you watching?
He was smart and had some education.
He had the reputation of being a very decent man and a good smallholder.
I remove the knots ...
... so it's nice and smooth ...
... and afterwards, to finish it off, you can carve a little beading.
Makes it more comfortable.
He frequented the inns.
At home he often drank brandy.
Here, it's for you.
Go on, try it!
I don't know exactly what illness he had, or which one killed him.
He punished us sometimes, but less violently than our mother.
Does that make you happy? - Yes.
It makes me happy. - Good!
He was more gentle ...
... and I believe more loved by my brothers and me.
It's hot today.
One day ...
... it was clear and the sun was hot for the time of year ...
... I went to tend our cows in a field.
All I had with me was a cap.
And no doubt I had to stay bareheaded for a while.
After the sunstroke—
Look at me.
I stayed in bed for two weeks.
I don't know if I was delirious.
What is certain is that I was very ill.
Does that hurt?
So ill that my parents were afraid I was going to die.
It's quite certain it was not as a consequence of this illness ...
... that I had my first thoughts of murder.
I had already had them during the previous winter.
Come here! Come here!
At home ....
... same as in all the neighbours' houses ...
... we used to kill a pig every year.
Have you got it?
Pull it.
Slowly!
It'll calm down, it'll calm down.
It'll calm down.
I was happy to see a pig being killed.
Not to see it bleeding, because when we bled it ...
... I ran away from its screaming.
And I was happy because after they bled it they burnt it.
We opened it up and made sausages. We even had a little party.
Do some more of this 'cause there isn't enough.
Joseph, stop tasting, come on.
It'll be good to have a drink.
Here's to the pig!
Yeah, The pig's health!
It was a beautiful pig.
He was really fat.
We killed the pig by bleeding it.
And in my child's imagination ...
'To kill' came to mean 'to bleed'.
Yet one day I heard my parents saying that a man had been killed.
And I thought to myself:
Do we kill men too?
Like pigs?
At night, in my bed, before falling asleep ...
... I pictured myself hurting boys my age that I spent a lot of time with.
It seemed to me that I would give me great pleasure to hit them with a knife.
Not to kill them, I didn't care if they lived or died.
But it seemed to me that I would take pleasure in torturing them.
You seem to be consistently around the middle.
I'm afraid you're never going to leave it.
Second, our dear little trembler, Reidal.
9/10.
What level can you read? - Eleven.
- I couldn't do it.
If only you would work more on your writing, you could be first.
Try to correct this fault. This is illegible.
First, Délorieux Emile.
10/10. Very good. Keep it up.
Open your notebooks, we're going to do some dictation.
Can I play with you? - No, we've got enough already.
When I was ten I lost my father whom I cherished.
For a long time ...
... even at night, while dreaming ...
... even now after 7 years have passed ...
... I cry remembering my mother taking me and another of my brothers to his deathbed.
And telling us:
"Give him a kiss, you poor kids."
"This'll be the last time."
Damn it, Bruno, what are you doing?
Hurry up! Get a move on!
Tomorrow at dawn, when the countryside whitens,
I will leave.
You see, I know you’re waiting for me.
I will go through the forest, I will go across mountains.
I cannot stay away from you any longer.
I will walk eyes fixed on my thoughts,
Without seeing anything outside, without hearing—
I remember that one day at primary school.
The desire to kill made itself felt more sharply.
I will watch neither the evening gold fall,
Nor the faraway sails descending upon Harfleur.
And when I arrive, I will put on your grave—
One of my comrades got up. And I had him in front of me.
Victor Hugo.
- Very good Emile, you can sit down.
My desire to kill him was so strong that I thought, sooner or later ...
I have to satisfy this need to kill, which will give me such great pleasure.
And I thought looking at him:
"You will not grow old."
Your turn, Louis.
- A Sun! You have to get it back!
- Your turn, Pierre.
You're hurting me!
- Stop! Or we'll report you!
Have you ever tortured an animal?
- No ...
I don't think so ...
Oh yes, just once.
I stepped on a lamb in a sheepfold.
- And you killed it?
- No.
- Did you enjoy it?
- No.
If anything I tend to pity them, the poor animals.
- Bruno ...
Have you ever wanted to kill a girl?
- No.
It was from my time at a boys' school that I felt like killing some of my comrades.
- From the age of 6 or 7, then?
- From the age of 6.
- Bruno.
Are you attracted to girls or boys?
- I don't know.
- And do you remember at what age you started masturbating?
- I'd prefer to write that down for you.
Hey, kid!
Do you have some wine?
- I have some milk.
- What? - I have some milk.
- OK, go on, give me some!
Are you all alone here?
- As usual. I was hired out.
- And who hired you?
- The Lacombes.
- The Lacombes ...
- You know them?
- You're not from here, are you?
Where are you from?
- I'm from Raulhac.
- What's your name?
- Reidal.
- Reidal what?
- Reidal Bruno.
One day ...
... I met a shepherd.
He forced me to the ground and began, against my will, to masturbate me.
It's hot, isn't it?
Lie down! - I have to go, M'sieu'.
- I'm telling you, Lie down! - Please stop, M'sieu'!
Stop, please!
Stop!
Let me go!
- Stop struggling!
- M'sieu', please stop, you're hurting me!
- Stop struggling or I'll really hurt you!
I want to see if you're a good mountain shepherd.
Here we are.
Just let yourself go!
That's good!
M'sieu' ...
After a certain time I let myself go, and I came.
Now I knew how to masturbate.
Ah, you're here already!
We weren't expecting you so soon.
Can you see how dirty he is?
Go and wash, and change your clothes!
At first I rarely masturbated. Almost never.
I couldn't ejaculate, and I could only cum with great difficulty.
One day...
... while I was masturbating and couldn't cum ...
... the idea of ​​murder came to me suddenly.
During the following months I masturbated a lot.
Several times a day.
By imagining myself killing some of my comrades.
If I felt the pleasure coming, I used to stop
Then I started again by picturing another comrade.
And I could make the pleasure last 5 to 10 minutes.
In my view, before I could be tempted to kill someone ...
... he had to meet several conditions that I will try to enumerate:
First of all
I had to know him.
I had to have lived alongside him for a while.
He also had to have a nice face.
A fairly high intelligence.
And a certain assurance in his walk, his outfit and his gestures.
And then, I would kill him, but as if with regret.
Because I loved him but couldn't control myself.
- You've never been specific ...
... was it the urge to kill that gave you an erection?
Or the other way round?
- I imagined myself killing someone.
It was after that when I got an erection.
- And did you ever dream of murder?
- Yes, often.
- And did that give you pleasure?
- Yes.
- What form did it take?
Did you ejaculate in your sleep?
And did anyone ever notice that you masturbated so often?
- I don't know.
- Have you ever masturbated with someone else?
- No, that would be disgusting.
- Not even in the Seminary? Or with one of your brothers?
- No! I told you, No!
- Do you still practise masturbation here in prison?
When was the last time? - That's none of your business.
- We need to know everything, Bruno.
And if some of our questions make you angry then... so much the worse for you.
We are not here for your entertainment.
So now answer the question.
- When did you masturbate— - I don't remember any more!
- Is that because you don't remember? Or you don't want to remember?
Yet you remember that at the age of 3½ you fell out of a window.
That on a particular day the weather was cloudy.
Maybe even a little rainy.
There, your memories are very precise.
But you don't remember your last masturbation.
- Bruno, please answer now.
We know you don't like to talk about this, but it's important.
You have to say it.
- It's been 2 months and 13 days.
- What?
We can't hear you. Speak up, articulate.
- It's been 2 months and 13 days.
- And, apart from us ...
... have you ever talked about all this to anyone?
- About what?
- About your practice of masturbation.
Your ideas of murder.
Your dreams.
- Of my dreams? No.
I never thought it was really sin.
- And the rest?
- I started talking about it last year.
At Easter time.
♪ I'll see Her one day.
♪ In the Sky, in the Garden.
♪ Yes I will see Mary.
♪ In Her celestial presence.
♪ In the Sky, in the Sky, in the Sky.
♪ I'm going to see Her one day.
♪ In the Sky, in the Sky, in the Sky—
In the month of April 1904 ...
... a mission group came to preach in my parish at Raulhac.
Thou hast understood my thoughts long ago;
Thou search'd out my way—
I decided to take advantage of this opportunity to put my conscience in order.
And I went to confess to the priest who was preaching this mission ...
... And who was the abbot of the Minor Seminary of Saint-Flour.
Oh Lord, Thou hast known all the last things and them of old;
Thou hast form'd me, and put thy Hand upon me.
Thy Knowledge is wonderful above me:
It is great , and I cannot reach to it./font>
Whither shall I go from thy Spirit? And whither shall I fly from thy Face?
If I ascend into Heaven, thou art there:
if I descend into Hell, thou art present.
What do you mean by "bad thoughts"?
- I have ...
... I have hateful thoughts.
Sometimes I have ...
... I almost want to kill them.
- What have these comrades done to you? - Nothing.
Nothing at all.
- And what else?
- I commit impure acts against my will.
- Regularly? - Yes, often.
Sometimes I also think that ...
... I will never be able ...
... to resist.
Then, so as not to commit this sin again, to stop having all these ideas ...
- maybe I should kill myself.
- Suicide is a very great sin, Bruno. Perhaps the worst of all.
It is to refuse the gift of Life that God gave us.
It is to blaspheme His divine creation.
Those who commit suicide suffer eternal damnation.
You know that? - Yes, Father.
- Listen to me, my son.
I have the impression ...
... that you are able to distinguish good from evil.
That is the best way to fight against your sins.
Especially against very serious sins.
If you pray to the Lord to bring you back to the right path, He will do so.
- But, Father ...
Every day I fight against these thoughts.
Every day I pray.
The thoughts come back.
- Then you have to fight harder.
Each of us has to fight.
Our Lord himself was tempted by the Devil. But he fought against him.
And it may be that ...
... your biggest sin is to see everything in colors that are a little too dark.
Don't you think so?
- Yes, Father.
- How old are you, Bruno?
- I'm 15.
Nearly 16.
- And you're telling me you pray every day?
- Yes, Father.
Morning and evening.
- And do you enjoy studying?
- I've always been first in my class.
- Tell me, Bruno ...
... have you ever felt a vocation to become a priest?
- A priest?
It never occurred to me.
At first ...
... I never thought of becoming a priest.
But I said to myself that by going to a Seminary ...
... I'd be better protected against myself.
And then the idea of being a priest smiled at me.
Not to be comfortable.
Not to earn good money and work very little.
But I would have enjoyed a settled life.
Holy, penitent ...
... free from all disorders and sins.
Thank you, my God.
Thank you!
All of me now belongs to you.
I will never again hold back.
Never again!
I beg you, let me find peace in the Seminary.
I hope my father is in Paradise with you.
Amen!
Blondel, what time is it?
- 2:35.
- Thanks.
- Will we be there soon?
- A bit less than 2 hours now.
The cost of education was too high for my family.
But a rich landowner in Raulhac undertook to pay the fees for us.
It was thus decided that I would study At the Minor Seminary of Saint-Flour.
- Good day, Father. - Good day, Father.
Londalais, Langlois, show him the dormitory.
- Yes, Father.
Stand up straight!
- Sorry.
- Did you study well during the holidays? - Yes, Father
- Ready for the new school year? - Yes.
- That's good.
Did you study your Latin? - Yes Father.
- How are you? - I'm fine and you?
When I arrived at the Seminary ...
... I was behind educationally.
For example, I had never learnt Latin or Greek.
I had always been the best at primary school.
And I thought I had a completely superior intelligence.
But I never thought that the Seminary's students would all be very intelligent.
And that to catch up, I would have to rely less on intelligence than on hard work.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.
Amen.
The Lord be with you.
And with thy spirit.
Lift up your hearts.
We lift them up unto the Lord.
Let us give thanks unto the Lord, our God.
It is meet and right so to do.
Our Father.
Our Father, Who art in Heaven
Hallowed be Thy name
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done
On earth, as it is in Heaven
Give us this day our daily bread
But deliver us from evil. Amen
I welcome those who have just joined us in this Seminary.
Qui regulae vivit
Deo vivit
Who lives by the rules, lives by God.
If you understand that, you understand the essence.
We expect you to have a constant enthusiasm for study.
As well as total obedience to your masters.
And respect for your classmates.
You must now consider the entire Minor Seminary of Saint-Flour ...
... your new family.
And now, let us pray.
What is the subjunctive of— - Silence!
Get closer.
Get a little closer.
I was the only one whose fees were paid by charity.
Always badly dressed.
Clumsy.
Puny and expressing myself with difficulty.
I was dark and lonely.
My peers on the other hand had wealth ...
... pride, physical beauty, articulacy, courage and joie de vivre.
Look at the camera.
How I resented them.
How gladly I would have made them suffer.
How I would have liked to deprive them of this life they found so beautiful.
But killing them would have been too easy.
I had to dominate them, to humiliate them.
To tear off their beautiful clothes and their beautiful faces.
To keep them submissive and obedient under the knife.
To torture them and to behead them.
How did you resist for a whole year?
- I studied.
My classmates laughed at me when I told them ...
... that I wanted, in one year, to take three classes.
They called me crazy.
This Reidal who never plays with others.
Who doesn't want to take time off.
Who spends the break walking alone in the yard.
He's not malicious, Reidal. He's a docile character.
Then, although he is taciturn, his conversation is cheerful.
Always good for a laugh.
Reidal is quite a nice guy.
Were you happy at the Seminary?
- When my studies were going well.
When I didn't have to fight too hard against my inclinations.
I think I was happy.
At the end of the year my success surpassed all expectations.
I won seven prizes:
First in Religious Instruction.
Second prize in Excellence.
First in Greek.
First in Natural History.
First in History and Geography.
Second in Mathematics.
Second prize for the quarterly review.
Inside I swelled up with pride.
But sadly ...
Goodbye.
When I saw myself achieving a goal I had longed for ...
... and where I had invested all my happiness ...
... I was suddenly disgusted to see my life aimless and free of obstacles to overcome.
Come, my sons, hurry up.
I then saw existence as something bland.
Enjoy your holidays, Oudoux.
- Yes, you too.
Something empty and monotonous.
Goodbye Bruno.
- Goodbye Jean.
Something was making me feel listless.
A great lethargy was overtaking me.
I would have liked not to live any longer.
Mum! Eugenie! Bruno's here!
Gentlemen, my apologies. There was an emergency at the asylum.
It's all right, I'm ready.
We had arrived at the holidays that preceded the crime.
You wrote that these holidays frightened you a lot.
Could you explain why?
Although you must have been tired after the year at the Seminary.
- Yes, that's true.
I was exhausted.
But during the holidays I was at home doing very little.
And I know it's when I'm doing nothing that I'm most vulnerable.
- But weren't you also tempted at the Seminary?
- Yes, but at the Seminary they kept an eye on us.
- And this was the only reason you did not give in?
- Yes, I think so.
I was working really hard as well.
- But you had work at home too? - Oh, very little.
My mother couldn't hire me out to the other farmers.
Everyone complained about my clumsiness.
- What did you do with your days?
- Once in a while, I went to look after the cows.
Or I would take one of my prize books to read.
Somewhere.
- You were doing nothing else?
- When there was an errand to run I would run it.
Or ...
I would cut grass for my mother's rabbits.
Since she was ill it was up to me to take care of them.
- You didn't masturbate?
- The first day, I resisted that.
But the notions of murder and sexual pleasure were very strong in my head.
Get out of here!
That's it, get out!
Find a husband, and a job!
That'll be one less mouth to feed!
Ungrateful child!
After 4 or 5 days ...
... the thought occurred to me that no matter how much I resisted ...
... I wouldn't be able to resist all summer despite my good intentions.
I wanted to go to confession but I didn't.
And for two weeks I carried on masturbating.
5...6...7...8 times a day.
However, I was struggling.
If I hadn't been trying to control myself I would have masturbated even more.
I was so disgusted by sexual pleasure that I told myself I'd be much less guilty ...
... if I committed a crime that would put an end to this sin I indulged in every day.
Rather than the sin of masturbation every day.
From the 12th to the 23rd of August ...
... I managed to stop masturbating.
- Bruno?
Bruno! - What?
- Come here.
My parents are fine.
- And your little brothers, what are they up to?
- The youngest is going to the Seminary at the end of the year.
- Ah, that's good!
Here he is, I'll leave you to it.
- Hello Bruno, am I disturbing you? - No no.
- What were you doing?
- Moving some hay.
What do you want?
- I need a Latin dictionary. Could I borrow yours?
- I'll get it for you. Wait here.
Do you still have your trembling?
- Yes. From time to time.
- Can I bring it back to you next week? - Yes, whenever you want.
- You won't need it? - No no.
- Thanks.
We should go for a stroll together one of these days. Would you like that?
- Yes.
Dear God, grant me the grace to remain true to the resolutions I'm writing down.
To remember them more easily.
Your Paradise was open to me and the Infernal Abyss was closed under my feet.
I loved You, O my Lord.
But the Devil came and seduced me with the lure of a fictitious pleasure.
Closing my eyes to the light.
And I listened to him.
I gave in.
My cowardice betrayed You, O my Lord.
I allowed myself not to see You and not to possess You forever ...
... in Heaven, for a moment of pleasure and an eternity of tears
What sacrifice would I not make ...
... to return to the moment of temptation that made me succumb!
But the damage is done. What can I do?
There's no hope left.
Oh but there is!
The fount of Your mercies is inexhaustible.
Forgive me Lord, I won't sin again in the future.
I'd rather die than commit this sin again.
Do you remember when you wrote those solemn resolutions?
- It was the 23rd of August.
- And how long after that did you succumb again?
- The same night.
- And that's when you wrote this in the margin:
"Impossible to resist" along with "Renewed resolution."
- Yes
- In one of your notebooks, you mention the idea of ​​suicide.
- I've been thinking about that since I was 13 or 14.
- And what do you think stopped you from doing it?
- My religion says that suicide is an unforgivable sin.
Followed by eternal damnation.
- But your religion also says that homicide is a very grave sin.
- Yes of course.
- But you think it less serious to kill someone else than to kill yourself?
- No, I didn't say that. - So what are you saying?
- Just that after killing someone, we can repent and expiate the sin.
Whereas with suicide that's impossible.
- We need you to tell us now about September 1st.
- You already know all the details.
- What interests us is your story, told by you.
During the night of September 1st I dreamed of the notion of murder.
I ejaculated in my sleep.
Next morning my bloodthirsty obsessions seemed very pleasant to me.
Hello Mrs. Reidal, am I bothering you?
- No, what do you want?
- I came to return Bruno's dictionary.
Here you are, thanks a lot. - You're welcome.
- I'm off to sit on a rock and read a bit. Do you want to come with me?
- Can I?
- As if you had other plans for today?
- I'll go and get my book.
Eugénie, give me my knife.
Ah, I said to myself.
Why fight against fate?
You're destined to be a murderer.
What must happen will happen.
Cheer up.
Soon you're going to bring down Blondel.
Blondel, so beautiful.
So proud, so clever.
The one you love so much.
You will hold him.
You will possess him, you will kill him.
He will be yours.
Yours alone. Completely yours.
Is it good? - I don't know.
To be honest, I've only just started it.
- Can I borrow it when you've finished? - Yes, if you want to.
I saw his beautiful face there. His beautiful colours.
I saw myself cutting off his head, then hiding it along with his clothes.
So no-one could tell if it was him or me who was thus beheaded.
It was the beginning of September.
The season with all kinds of fruit I could eat.
I saw myself travelling South to the land of fine weather.
From there, surely I'd be able to embark for a colony.
I'll go to an African mission where I can make a general confession.
There are people, having committed a crime, who decide to turn themselves in.
They're so stupid!
So don't you think about it.
You'd be very stupid to worry too much on a happy day like today.
Tonight, you will have cut off Blondel's head.
And then you'll be free.
You'll start a new life.
Until the day God sends Death to deliver you ...
... from a life that has only been a heavy burden for you.
And to give you true happiness in eternity.
The crime was committed. All that was left was to enjoy it.
I'm cold, aren't you?
- A little bit.
- Would you like to go back down into the woods?
- It's such a beautiful view up here.
- That doesn't matter, we're reading.
- Yes, that's true. Let's go.
Oh, how happy I was!
He was falling into the trap.
The circumstances were favourable.
It was all about taking advantage.
Back in a moment.
He finds life beautiful, I find it awful.
I will open up his chest.
I will rip out his heart.
I will take it away in memory of him.
Would you like to come back for a walk tomorrow?
- If you want.
And tonight, what are you doing?
- I'm in Badailhac, with my cousins.
- Ah OK.
- All right, see you tomorrow then.
Shall I call for you?
- If you like.
After masturbating, thinking of killing Blondel no longer gave me any pleasure.
Maybe it should be fixed before the autumn.
- Jean-Pierre was going to do it.
- What difference does that make? Must I be dead and buried before the barn is fixed?
- Don't say that, Mum! - Don't say that!
I reproached myself for masturbating and failing to carry out the crime.
It had to be accomplished, at all costs.
I could see nothing beyond that.
I couldn't sit still.
Don't talk about money.
You know he did me several favours. I can return those today.
I felt an irresistible urge to get up and go looking for someone to kill.
Well? You can give me a hand.
Nevertheless I remained at the table with my family.
- What? - How old are you now?
- 17 - 17?
You know, when I was 17 I was helping my parents.
You can give me a hand, it'll be quicker.
Around two o'clock I told myself that in the fields or on the paths ...
... I would find somebody herding cattle, and I would kill him.
I also told myself the knife would penetrate much better if it were sharp.
So I went to the yard to sharpen my knife very carefully.
François?
- What d'you want?
- Do you recognize me?
- Yes, you're Jules's brother.
- I saw you at mass.
Are you in the choir?
- Yes, so?
- Nothing, just asking.
What are you doing?
- You can't see for yourself?
- Are you going back home?
- No, I have to get some wood first.
He's no Blondel. But I'll have a better chance to grab him.
Can I come with you?
- If you want.
Ah, Now I'm in business. I should know immediately.
Are you tired?
- A little.
- Come on, let's pick some hazelnuts.
- Is it far? - No, just there.
Drop your stuff.
Go on.
Go ahead. It's just there.
Show me if you're a good mountain shepherd.
- Stop it! you're crazy! That hurts!
When the poor kid screamed: "Reidal, you're crazy! My neck hurts!"
I hesitated a moment.
I was starting to realize the gravity of what I was doing.
I might have let him go, but I thought maybe I'd hurt him badly.
And he'd tell his mother.
After holding his head in my hands for about ten seconds ...
It struck me that I was only dealing with a corpse.
That repelled me so much that I threw it 3 or 4 meters from the body.
I didn't want to masturbate and I said to myself:
Doesn't the pleasure last longer?
I was trying to cry to get some relief, but I couldn't.
Mary, Refuge for sinners and the desperate—
After praying for a while I asked myself:
What does the Lord require of you?
That's easy: He just wants to forgive you.
But on condition that you show utterly sincere repentance.
I killed François at Raulhac and I've come to give myself up.
"A serious crime", the police said.
I did not fully appreciate the meaning, the scope, the weight, the value of the words:
"Serious Crime."
You feel no remorse for what you did to François?
- François?
He looked happy, and proud. And he didn't like me much.
- And in your opinion, these are sufficient reasons for killing him?
If you please, we want to know what exactly happened here yesterday.
Well, officers, perhaps you could show him what he's done.
Show Mr Reidal what he did yesterday. Lift the sheet.
Come closer! Come closer! Closer!
Look carefully!
You can't remember?
Tell us exactly what happened here yesterday.
It's clear, it's obvious!
We have a young man who died in excruciating pain.
How do you explain it you absolute monster?
If my conscience obliged me to have pity for François ...
... I felt more inclined to hate him.
Envious of him being pitied while I was being insulted.
I thought I was much more unhappy than him.
All right, that's enough!
Take him away, all of you.
Lock him up in the Vic jail. I'll see him later.
"Scoundrel", I said to myself.
Is this the way to treat a child unable to resist?
Poor François, he had a much nicer face than yours.
You deserve the same thing.
I wasn't crying.
I might have cried if anyone had shown me a little compassion.
And my thoughts rose to God:
My God, forgive me!
And forgive them also for they know not what they do.
Today. December 3rd. It's raining.
My thoughts are darker and above all, they are quite vague.
My days are sad and monotonous, But they don't seem long to me.
I spend my time writing my memoirs, re-creating in thought the life I lived.
I often think of the Minor Seminary of Saint-Flour, so dear to my heart.
It upsets me to be so far from those I love. From those I loved.
From those places I loved.
All my happiness lies in what I no longer have.
In what I would no longer have.
Everything that could make me happy is there at the Minor Seminary of Saint-Flour.
Do these comrades whom I mourn think of me sometimes?
Will I ever see them again?
What misfortune is mine.
For months I've been struggling.
Struggling so the idea does not resurface.
And with all your questions ...
... I am a coward.
I always say I won't do it again and I do it again.
- What happened?
- I masturbated last Thursday.
I'd had a dream about Blondel.
I saw him again on the rock where we had gone for a walk.
I saw myself hitting him hard on the head. And then I saw him there, on the ground.
And thinking about all this, I was very hard.
So I just think:
What a delight it is for me to own Blondel.
The one I consider almost a demi-god.
Every instant Blondel is on my mind.
I imagine working over his face with a knife.
All day long.
Thinking of him, I want to kill him.
It will never be over for me with Blondel.
Whatever I do.
For me the murder scenes are full of charm.
Following Professor Lacassagne's report,
It was decided to commit Bruno Reidal to an asylum.
He entered the Aurillac asylum on January 16, 1907.
He died there on September 13, 1918 at the age of 30
English subtitles by jeremys amd Marseille
TNT 2022