The Calm Before the Storm
Hong Kong in the 1980s—a city of opportunity, vibrancy, and relentless energy. The streets were alive, bustling with people who, like the city itself, never seemed to rest. Neon lights flickered over crowded sidewalks, taxis weaved through narrow lanes, and the hum of city life seemed to drown out any hint of darkness that might lurk beneath.
But hidden within the daily rush was a man whose quiet demeanor masked a horrifying secret. A man whose name would soon be whispered in fear—Lam Kor Wan.
To most, Lam was just another face in the crowd, an ordinary taxi driver, ferrying passengers from one side of the city to the other. His life seemed as unremarkable as his occupation. But there was nothing ordinary about Lam Kor Wan.
Lam Kor Wan had lived a quiet life. Little was known about him—he was a loner, soft-spoken, and often kept to himself. Yet, as the night fell and the city became a quieter place, Lam’s true self began to emerge. Behind the wheel of his taxi, he began to hunt.
He would circle the city’s darkened streets, his eyes scanning the late-night passengers in search of his prey. His preference? Young, unsuspecting women, often traveling alone, far from the safety of their homes.
For these women, stepping into his taxi was just part of their everyday routine, trusting in the safety of a late-night ride home. Little did they know that the man behind the wheel had other plans—plans that would turn their final moments into a nightmare.
Once his victims were inside, Lam Kor Wan would drive them to isolated locations, far from the busy streets of Hong Kong, far from anyone who might hear their cries for help. And there, in the silence of the night, his chilling work would begin.
His methods were cruel and calculated. Strangulation, quick and efficient, left no room for escape. With each passing minute, the life would drain from his victims, leaving only silence in the aftermath of his brutality. But for Lam, this was only the beginning.
In 1982, Hong Kong began to notice a pattern. Women were disappearing without a trace, seemingly vanishing into thin air. No one suspected the quiet taxi driver weaving through the city’s streets. He blended in, hiding in plain sight, while the horrors he committed remained in the shadows.
For a time, Lam Kor Wan remained invisible, a ghost in a city full of life. But as the missing women’s faces began to appear in newspapers and on posters, the residents of Hong Kong grew uneasy. No one could imagine that the predator they were searching for was as ordinary as a taxi driver picking up fares late into the night.
But behind closed doors, Lam Kor Wan’s mind was consumed by the dark fantasies that had taken root years before. He had begun to see his victims not as people, but as objects—tools for his own perverse desires. His obsession would soon escalate, turning him from a killer into something far more terrifying.
What followed was a series of brutal, calculated murders that would leave a permanent scar on Hong Kong. But this was only the beginning of Lam Kor Wan’s twisted legacy—a story that would unravel in the most grotesque of ways, shocking a city that had no idea of the horrors unfolding in its midst.
The First Victim
In the spring of 1982, Lam Kor Wan’s growing thirst for control could no longer be contained. The first victim was a young woman, like many others, trying to get home late at night. Unaware of the predator lurking behind the wheel, she unknowingly stepped into the vehicle that would seal her fate.
She was just one of many passengers that night, but for Lam, this was not just another ride. She had become his target. What began as a routine drive would soon turn into a nightmare, a horror she would never escape.
Lam Kor Wan knew the streets of Hong Kong well—he knew where to go to avoid attention, where no one would hear her screams. It was in one of these forgotten corners of the city that Lam struck for the first time.
She was strangled to death—quickly, methodically. Lam was in control, just as he had imagined. For him, the act of killing wasn’t enough; it was what came after that gave him the power he craved.
Back in his apartment, Lam began the next phase of his grim ritual. His obsession wasn’t with the act of murder alone. It extended beyond the moment of death. He needed to preserve the memory of his crime, to feel in control even when his victims were no longer alive.
Lam Kor Wan did not simply dispose of the bodies. He mutilated them, severing limbs with clinical precision. But that was not all. Lam kept parts of his victims—preserved in jars, trophies of his mastery over life and death. These jars, filled with formaldehyde, would soon become the most notorious symbol of his dark legacy.
To the outside world, Lam was just a quiet, unassuming man. But in this room, he was something else entirely. He had created a world where he was in control, where his victims were reduced to lifeless remnants of a game only he knew he was playing.
As days passed, the woman’s disappearance became a mystery to her family, her friends, and the police. There was no body, no witnesses, no clues. Only silence. And for Lam, it was perfect.
Lam Kor Wan moved on as if nothing had happened. The streets were still busy, the passengers still came and went, and no one suspected the quiet driver. The perfect predator—hiding in plain sight.
But inside his apartment, his obsession was growing. One murder was no longer enough. The need for control, for domination, had taken root deep in his mind. And soon, he would strike again.
Horrors in Jars
Behind closed doors, Lam Kor Wan’s obsession had taken a grotesque turn. His apartment, a small and unremarkable space, had become a mausoleum—a place where death was preserved, cataloged, and admired.
Each jar held the remains of his victims, meticulously preserved in formaldehyde. To Lam, these were more than just body parts. They were trophies, symbols of the power he wielded over life and death. His victims no longer had names, faces, or identities. In his twisted mind, they had been reduced to objects—pieces of his collection.
Lam Kor Wan’s methodical nature extended beyond the killings. After murdering his victims, he would bring their bodies back to his apartment, where he carefully dismembered them. Using sharp precision, he removed limbs, cut flesh, and separated the parts he wanted to keep. His actions were not rushed or careless; they were deliberate, calculated, and horrifyingly systematic.
While Lam quietly continued his grisly work, the outside world remained oblivious. Women had been disappearing without a trace, and the police were left grasping at straws. Without bodies, without evidence, there was no case to solve. The victims simply vanished, leaving behind nothing but grief and unanswered questions.
For the families of the missing women, each day without news was torture. They held onto hope that their loved ones might still be alive, not knowing that their bodies had been reduced to fragments, stored away in glass jars just a few miles away.
To Lam Kor Wan, his trophies were more than just remnants of his crimes—they were his way of holding on to control. In his mind, these women would never escape him. Even in death, they were his. The jars were his proof, his reassurance that the power he craved was real.
The preservation process became part of his ritual, a meticulous routine that he repeated after each murder. Formaldehyde—used by medical professionals to preserve specimens—was his weapon of choice. With it, he could keep the remains intact for months, even years. In Lam’s mind, this was immortality.
When the police finally raided Lam’s apartment, they were unprepared for what they would find. The jars, neatly arranged on shelves, revealed the full extent of his madness. Four victims, dismembered and preserved, their identities lost to the mutilation that had taken place within those walls.
For the investigators, the discovery was unlike anything they had seen before. Each jar told a story of cruelty, control, and obsession. These were not just murders—they were part of a larger, twisted fantasy that Lam had constructed over time. A fantasy that allowed him to live out his darkest desires without ever leaving his apartment.
The media quickly seized upon the grotesque details of the case, dubbing Lam Kor Wan ‘The Jars Killer.’ The name alone sent shivers through the city. For many, it was the first time they had come face to face with the depths of human depravity.
Lam showed no remorse as the details of his crimes came to light. In his mind, he was simply following his nature. To him, the jars were not evidence of guilt—they were evidence of his success, his ability to manipulate life and death.
But Lam’s collection had come to an end. The jars, once hidden in the shadows of his apartment, had become symbols of his downfall. And while the investigation was far from over, the city of Hong Kong would never forget the horrors that had been uncovered in that small, unassuming apartment.
The Investigation Unfolds
By mid-1982, the number of missing women in Hong Kong had begun to alarm the authorities. What initially seemed like isolated disappearances soon revealed a disturbing pattern. All the women were young, all vanished without a trace, and no bodies had been found. It was a puzzle with too many missing pieces, and the pressure was mounting on the police to find answers.
With no bodies, no crime scenes, and no witnesses, the investigation had hit a dead end. Families of the missing grew desperate, pleading for any information that could lead to their daughters, sisters, and wives. But for months, the police were left chasing shadows.
There was nothing—no evidence to tie these disappearances together. No one had seen anything, no suspicious activity, nothing. It was as if these women had simply disappeared into thin air. We were all at a loss.
The city’s taxi drivers became a focal point in the investigation. Many of the missing women were last seen taking taxis late at night. But in a city of thousands of drivers, identifying a suspect seemed impossible. Interviews with dozens of drivers led nowhere.
And Lam Kor Wan, the quiet, unassuming taxi driver, went unnoticed. He continued to blend in with the faceless crowd, driving passengers day and night, slipping under the radar as the police scoured the city for clues.
There was something missing in our approach. We couldn’t shake the feeling that we were looking at this all wrong. The women weren’t just disappearing—they were being taken. But by who? And why? We needed something, anything, to break this case open.
Then, in the summer of 1982, a break in the case finally arrived. A taxi driver, arrested for an unrelated minor offense, made an offhand comment during his interrogation—something that immediately caught the attention of the detective in the room.
I don’t know nothing about those women. But… there’s this guy, Lam. He’s strange, quiet. He talks about the missing girls sometimes, in ways that make your skin crawl, y’know?
This was the first real lead they had. The name Lam Kor Wan had surfaced, but there was little known about him. To his neighbors, Lam was just a quiet, reclusive man who kept to himself. But to the police, he had suddenly become a person of interest. What they didn’t know was just how dark a path this lead would take them down.
Armed with a search warrant, police arrived at Lam’s apartment on a warm summer morning. What they found inside would not only crack the case wide open but would also horrify an entire city.
Inside, the smell of chemicals hung in the air. The apartment was sparse, cold, but the true horror lay in what was carefully arranged on the shelves. Row upon row of glass jars, each containing the preserved remains of his victims. The police were speechless. What they had stumbled upon was beyond anything they had imagined.
I’ve been on the force for decades, and I’ve seen my fair share of horrific crimes. But this… what we found in that apartment, it was unlike anything we’ve ever seen. It was like stepping into the mind of a madman.
The evidence was overwhelming. Not only had Lam murdered his victims, but he had meticulously preserved their body parts. Four women, dismembered and stored away like objects. The case of the missing women had finally been solved, but the reality of what had happened was far darker than anyone had anticipated.
News of Lam Kor Wan’s arrest sent shockwaves through Hong Kong. The quiet, soft-spoken taxi driver was now revealed as one of the most terrifying serial killers in the city’s history. The media dubbed him ‘The Jars Killer,’ a name that would haunt the city for years to come.
During his interrogation, Lam showed little remorse, his responses cold and methodical. To him, the women were just pawns in a game that only he understood. He offered no apologies, no explanations, just a chilling detachment from the horror he had caused.
With Lam’s capture, the city of Hong Kong was left to grapple with the grim reality of the case. The investigation had finally come to an end, but the scars it left behind would linger for years. The families of the victims, once hopeful for their return, now had to face the unbearable truth.
Inside the Mind of a Killer
With Lam Kor Wan in custody, the investigation had entered a new phase. The horrors found inside his apartment had provided the evidence the police needed to charge him. But one question remained unanswered—what drove Lam to commit such unspeakable acts? What dark forces motivated him to turn murder into a ritual, preserving his victims as if they were mere objects for his twisted fascination?
We had the evidence. The jars, the body parts—they told us what Lam did. But it still didn’t explain the why. I couldn’t rest until I knew what drove him. I needed to understand his mind, even if it terrified me to do so.
Dr. Lee (calmly):
“Lam, we need to understand you. Why did you choose to kill these women? What did you feel when you took their lives?”
At first, Lam didn’t respond. He sat in silence, as if the question itself was irrelevant to him. But when he finally spoke, the chilling emptiness in his words revealed the true depths of his detachment.
Lam Kor Wan (speaking softly):
“They were nothing. Just… bodies. I wanted to see what it felt like to control them. To own them.”
For Lam, the killings were not about rage, revenge, or even desire. They were about control. His victims, once living, breathing women, had been reduced to objects in his mind. He had turned them into things he could manipulate, preserve, and arrange at his whim.
Lam Kor Wan’s detachment from society began long before his crimes. Born into a fractured family, he had grown up without connection, without love. Even as a child, he had been distant, preferring solitude over the company of others. As he grew older, his sense of alienation deepened, morphing into something darker.
He was invisible. To the world, Lam Kor Wan was just another face in the crowd—silent, unremarkable. But beneath that quiet exterior, a dark fantasy was taking shape. A fantasy of control, power, and dominance over life and death.
Lam Kor Wan:
“The first time was… strange. I didn’t feel what I expected. It wasn’t exciting or thrilling. It was just quiet. Calm. Like nothing had changed. But then, when I looked at her body, I knew—I had done something no one else could do. I had taken control.”
The act of killing had not brought the emotional release Lam had anticipated. Instead, it brought something far more dangerous—a sense of control, of power over another person’s existence. In his mind, death became a tool, something to be manipulated and controlled.
Dr. Lee (quietly):
“Lam isn’t driven by typical motives. There’s no anger, no hatred in what he does. His crimes are born from pure detachment. He’s created a world where people are just things—things he can control. It’s the ultimate form of disassociation.”Detective Chan:
“How does someone become like this? What makes a man see people as objects?”Dr. Lee:
“It’s not about what he became, it’s about what he never was. Lam never connected to the world, to people. Without empathy, without any emotional bond, he built his own reality—a reality where he controlled everything, even life and death.”
Lam’s fascination with death was not sudden. It had grown over time, nurtured by his deepening isolation. His interest in anatomy, in understanding the human body, had begun as a way to fill the void left by his disconnection from the world. But as his mind slipped further into darkness, this interest evolved into something far more sinister.
For Lam, understanding the body was not enough. He wanted to control it, to possess it. The dissection of his victims was not an act of cruelty in his mind—it was a way to fulfill his obsession with mastery over life itself.
Dr. Lee (gently):
“Why did you preserve them, Lam? Why did you keep their remains?”Lam Kor Wan (after a long pause):
“Because they were mine. I didn’t want them to disappear. I wanted to keep them, forever.”
In Lam’s mind, the act of preserving his victims was an extension of his need for control. By storing their remains in jars, he had found a way to prevent their complete disappearance. In those jars, they remained his, trapped in time, frozen in his twisted reality.
As the details of Lam’s crimes emerged, the people of Hong Kong struggled to comprehend the scale of his depravity. How had such a quiet, unassuming man hidden such darkness for so long? What had created a monster capable of such cold, calculated brutality?
Even as Lam Kor Wan was led to trial, he remained a mystery. He spoke little, his face a blank mask. To the world, he was the embodiment of evil—a man who had taken life and reduced it to a twisted game of control. But to Lam, he was simply following his nature, a predator in a world of prey.
In the end, Lam Kor Wan’s crimes were not about hatred or revenge. They were about control. Control over life, control over death. And for someone as detached from reality as Lam, control was the only thing that mattered. The women he killed were not people to him—they were just pieces in a puzzle only he could see.
The Trial and Its Aftermath
As Lam Kor Wan’s trial began in late 1983, the city of Hong Kong was riveted by the proceedings. It was not just a trial for a serial killer; it was a reckoning for the community, an opportunity for the families of the victims to confront the man who had shattered their lives.
The trial quickly became a media sensation, drawing crowds eager to witness the man behind the gruesome murders. As the prosecution laid out its case, the evidence was overwhelming. Photographs of the crime scene, testimonies from investigators, and the chilling confession from Lam himself painted a vivid picture of horror.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, what you are about to see is not just evidence of murder; it is evidence of a man devoid of humanity. Lam Kor Wan did not just take lives—he reduced them to objects, to trophies. This is a case that demands justice.
For the families, the trial was an emotional crucible. Each piece of evidence brought them back to the moment they lost their loved ones. Each testimony was a reminder of the life that had been stolen from them. Their pain reverberated through the courtroom, a haunting echo of the horror Lam had wrought.
While the prosecution will present a narrative filled with horror, we must remember that Lam Kor Wan is not just a monster; he is a human being. We must consider the psychological factors at play. Can we truly say he was in control of his actions?
The defense aimed to portray Lam as a product of his environment—a man who had suffered in silence, a victim of his own mind. But the prosecution countered, arguing that his awareness of his actions made him culpable.
Family Member (choked with grief):
“We trusted Lam. He was a taxi driver, just another face in the crowd. We never thought he could do this to my daughter. She was full of life, and now… she’s gone.
As the trial unfolded, it became clear that Lam’s actions had left scars not only on the victims but on their families as well. Each testimony added another layer to the community’s grief, transforming the trial into a collective mourning.
After weeks of emotional testimony, the jury faced a monumental task: to determine the fate of a man who had committed unspeakable acts. Would they see Lam as a monster, or would they view him through the lens of psychological trauma?
Foreman:
“We, the jury, find the defendant, Lam Kor Wan, guilty of murder in the first degree.”
The verdict resonated throughout the courtroom. Justice had been served, but for the families of the victims, the pain remained. The guilty verdict was a small victory, a glimmer of hope in the midst of their grief.
As Lam Kor Wan was sentenced to life in prison, the city of Hong Kong was left to grapple with the aftermath of his crimes. The trial had exposed the depths of his depravity, but it had also revealed the resilience of a community brought together by tragedy.
In the wake of the trial, the community began to heal, coming together to remember those who had been lost. The memorials served as a reminder that even in darkness, there is light. The victims were not just numbers; they were daughters, sisters, friends—lives that had meaning and purpose.
As an investigator, I had seen the worst of humanity. But in this moment, surrounded by the love and strength of these families, I realized that hope and resilience can emerge even from the darkest corners. Lam Kor Wan had taken lives, but he could never extinguish the love those families held for their loved ones.
The trial of Lam Kor Wan would become a pivotal moment in Hong Kong’s history, a somber reminder of the fragility of life and the strength of community. Though the scars of his actions would remain, the spirit of those lost would endure, echoing in the hearts of those who loved them.
The Legacy of Horror and Healing
Years passed since the trial of Lam Kor Wan, yet the echoes of his crimes remained embedded in the fabric of Hong Kong. The city had moved forward, but the scars of that dark chapter could never fully heal. For many, the memories of the victims were a constant reminder of the fragility of life.
In the aftermath, the community found strength in solidarity. Support groups emerged, offering a safe space for those who had lost loved ones to share their grief. They were determined not to let the memory of their loved ones fade into obscurity.
The families organized annual memorials, celebrating the lives of their loved ones instead of mourning their loss. These gatherings served as a powerful reminder that love transcends even the darkest of tragedies.
Detective Chan:
“We cannot forget the past, nor should we. It is our duty to remember those we lost, to ensure their stories are told. Their lives mattered, and their legacies will live on through us.”
In response to the horrors of the past, educational initiatives began to flourish. Schools implemented programs focused on safety, awareness, and the importance of community vigilance. The younger generation learned the value of connection and support.
A memorial wall was established, a place where anyone could come to honor the victims. The wall became a symbol of hope and resilience, a testament to the community’s commitment to never forget.
As for Lam, his existence became a shadow of what it once was. Behind bars, he faced the consequences of his actions, but the darkness within him remained unchanged. The man who had sought control over life had lost it entirely.
Detective Chan:
“Remember, it’s not just about preventing darkness; it’s about nurturing light. We must look out for each other, stand together, and create a world where everyone feels safe.”
In the years that followed, the community evolved. From the ashes of horror, they built a legacy of healing, compassion, and remembrance. The victims were no longer just names; they were cherished memories, woven into the tapestry of the city.
While the legacy of Lam Kor Wan is forever intertwined with tragedy, it also sparked a powerful movement toward healing and resilience. In a city that had faced darkness, the light of hope shone through, reminding everyone that even in the aftermath of horror, love can prevail.
