https://www.foxnews.com/live-news/bryan-kohberger-sentencing-hearing-7-23-25
Last Update July 23, 2025, 9:19 PM EDT
Kohberger spent hours video chatting daily with his mother while locked up, inmate says
A fellow inmate told investigators that Bryan Kohberger spent hours each day video chatting with his mother while in custody.
According to the interview, the inmate was watching sports during one of those calls and said “you suck” to a player on TV.
Kohberger, who overheard the comment, allegedly “immediately got up and put his face to the bars” and “aggressively asked if [the inmate] was talking about him or his mother.”
The Stand - complete edition, by Stephen King
(from internet transcript)
excerpt, Chapter 32
Someone had left the door open between Maximum Security and the cellblock beyond it; the steel-walled length of corridor acted as a natural amplifier, blowing up the steady, monotonous hollering that had been going on all morning to monster size, making it echo and re-echo until Lloyd Henreid thought that, between the cries and the very natural fear that he felt, he would go utterly and completely bugshit.
“Mother,” the hoarse, echoing cry came. “Mootherr! ”
Lloyd was sitting crosslegged on the floor of his cell. Both of his hands were slimed with blood; he looked like a man who has drawn on a pair of red gloves. The light blue cotton shirt of his prison uniform was smeared with blood because he kept wiping his hands dry on it in order to get a better purchase. It was ten o’clock in the morning, June 29. Around seven this morning he had noticed that the front right leg of his bunk was loose, and since then he had been trying to unthread the bolts that held it to the floor and to the underside of the bedframe. He was trying to do this with only his fingers for tools, and he had actually gotten five of the six bolts. As a result his fingers now looked like a spongy mess of raw hamburger. The sixth bolt was the one that had turned out to be the bitch-kitty, but he was beginning to think he might actually get it. Beyond that, he hadn’t allowed himself to think. The only way to keep back brute panic was not to think.
“Mootherr —”
He leaped to his feet, drops of blood from his wounded, throbbing fingers splattering on the floor, and shoved his face out into the corridor as far as he could, eyes bulging furiously, hands gripping the bars.
“Shut up, cock-knocker! ” he screamed. “Shut up, ya drivin me fuckin batshit! ”
There was a long pause. Lloyd savored the silence as he had once savored a piping hot Quarter Pounder with Cheese from McD’s. Silence is golden, he had always thought that was a stupid saying, but it sure had its points.
“MOOOOTHERRRR —” The voice came drifting up at the steel throat of the holding cells again, as mournful as a foghorn.
“Jesus,” Lloyd muttered. “Holy Jesus. SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP, YA FUCKIN DIMWIT! ”
“MOOOOOOOTHERRRRRRRRRR —”
- by me, Kerry Wayne Burgess, posted by me: 12:58 AM Pacific-timezone USA Saturday 11/29/2025
