Why the so-called “Deadpool Killer” still draws online attention years after two women were murdered in Florida

The Deadpool Killer: America’s Grim Fascination With a Charismatic Monster

In October 2019, a man who shared a name with Marvel’s wisecracking anti-hero Wade Wilson did not crack jokes. He committed two of the most savage murders in recent Florida history because, in his own words, he “just wanted to kill somebody.” Years later, as documentaries keep his face in the spotlight and women send him letters behind bars, the so-called Deadpool Killer has become a grim symbol of America’s dangerous obsession with charismatic monsters.

Wade Steven Wilson, born May 20, 1994, already had a lengthy criminal record before he became nationally infamous. Prior convictions for burglary, grand theft, firearm theft, and battery showed a pattern of escalating violence. A 2015 sexual battery investigation in Palm Beach County was closed despite DNA collection — an institutional failure later highlighted in Netflix’s 2026 series Worst Ex Ever. Months later, on October 7, 2019, Wilson unleashed that violence in Cape Coral.

He met Kristine Melton, 35, at a Fort Myers bar. After drinking with her and a friend, he later strangled the mother as she slept in her own bed, wrapped her body in carpets and bedding, and stole her car. Hours later he spotted Diane Ruiz, 43, a waitress and mother of two walking to work. He lured her into the stolen vehicle by asking for directions, then beat and strangled her. When she clung to life, Wilson ran her over repeatedly — 10 to 20 times, by his own admission — until, he later said, “she looked like spaghetti.” He told detectives the killings were “for fun” and that he had become “the devil,” with thoughts of “kill, kill, murder, murder.”

The break came when Wilson called his biological father, Steven Testasecca. The graphic confession horrified Testasecca, who cooperated with police and led to Wilson’s swift arrest. The evidence was overwhelming: DNA, phone records, eyewitness testimony, and Wilson’s own remorseless statements. In June 2024, a jury convicted him of two counts of first-degree premeditated murder and additional charges. Jurors recommended death by votes of 9–3 for Melton and 10–2 for Ruiz — possible only because of Governor Ron DeSantis’s 2023 law lowering the threshold from unanimous to 8–4. Judge Nicholas Thompson agreed, calling the crimes “heinous, atrocious, and cruel” and finding “no basis” to override the recommendation. Wilson received two death sentences in August 2024 and was transferred to death row at Union Correctional Institution in Raiford, Florida, where he remains as of 2026.

Signature: YCa0prl2gwFYl0EUZPj1k4qGHgaYXdN/KF319rRbrF9BrmRMVTIkYJek1ofNJa9Xpupgy0OV/o3E1ekDNmhLHv/vnKEX/L1QUP8cjHe/AP5UsQ7EChz0bfnIeIIr/GQjMT6GtGS2CGAULNyX/hfcCWfI7a34+sX2caWjSD7kCT5+n37nTyTjrkNtgfge0TwGfnNsTYZ0LRKL85g4EEkZpjvvJ//cYOvRxq9KGc5iEPphq9zcnZpc/cDOY0s92aR+

Wilson’s appearance amplified both the horror and the fascination. His face is covered in ink: “KILLER” across his forehead, Joker-style stitched smiles at the corners of his mouth, and Nazi-related symbols. Once described as strikingly handsome, the tattoos turned him into a living warning. Yet that same image has fueled one of the most disturbing fandoms in modern true crime. Reports document thousands of messages, hundreds of letters from women, and inappropriate photos sent to him in jail. Some fans romanticize his “handsome devil” persona, creating online shrines and pledging loyalty despite his lack of remorse — he reportedly told investigators he would “do it again.”

This is classic hybristophilia — sexual attraction to violent criminals — supercharged by the streaming era. Paramount+’s three-part docuseries Handsome Devil: Charming Killer (January 2026) and Netflix’s Worst Ex Ever Season 2 episode “Dating the Deadpool Killer” (May 2026) have kept his story trending, blending graphic details with his rebellious aesthetic. While victims’ families describe “five years of agony” and Ruiz’s father vows to attend the execution (“I will be there… That’s a promise”), a vocal minority treats Wilson like a misunderstood heartthrob. His adoptive parents pleaded for clemency, citing a difficult childhood, but the judge and jury saw only calculated brutality. Wilson’s appeals have largely stalled or been rejected in 2026, with his legal team acknowledging unfavorable recent rulings. He remains isolated on death row, facing an average wait of 13–14 years even if a warrant is signed.

His case exposes uncomfortable truths: how the justice system can miss warning signs, how non-unanimous death verdicts can turn capital punishment into a numbers game, and — most perniciously — how an insatiable appetite for true crime can glamorize predators while victims fade from memory.

The Wade Wilson saga is no comic book. It is a stark warning about the thin line between fascination and fetishization. As long as society rewards monsters with fan mail and streaming deals, the real Deadpool Killer’s influence will outlive any execution date. The families of Kristine Melton and Diane Ruiz deserve better than becoming footnotes in a killer’s dark legend. The question is not only whether Wilson will die for his crimes — it is whether we will stop romanticizing those who commit them.

Source: Compiled from Lee County court records and contemporaneous reporting by USA TODAY Network-Florida / The News-Press, with later coverage of the 2024 trial, 2024 sentencing, and 2026 documentaries (Handsome Devil: Charming Killer; Worst Ex Ever).