With long bleached hair and hip-hugger jeans, Sara Aldrete more resembles a mall rat than the priestess of a border town cult that ritually killed college student Mark Kilroy and a dozen other people.
Fifteen years after Aldrete was convicted of a crime so grisly it's still part of border and spring break lore, she teaches other prisoners English, runs a hamburger stand from her cell and plays on the prison volleyball team. And she published a book about how it feels to be branded the devil's concubine.
"I look over my shoulder and I see all these years pass and I say, `I am going to be 40,' " Aldrete said. "That is hard. ... That is tough."
In a recent interview at the women's prison here, Aldrete spoke of how she has changed, and how she confronts the possibility of dying behind bars.
Kilroy, 21, a pre-med student at the University of Texas at Austin, was kidnapped from the streets of Matamoros, Mexico, on a spring-break outing with friends on the night of March 14, 1989. He last was seen near the border.
Dozens searched for him. Hundreds of handbills were distributed. San Antonio Mayor Henry Cisneros helped pressure Mexican authorities.
Police got a break April 10 when they arrested Serafin Hernandez, a drug trafficker who was a cult member.
He confessed to helping kidnap Kilroy and later burying him on the Santa Elena Ranch near where the Rio Grande rounds the southern tip of Texas.
Cult members thought their self-styled religion, which drew from the Caribbean Santerma and the African Palo Mayombe traditions, would make them invisible so they could smuggle marijuana without risk.
All their victims except Kilroy were from Mexico. They were slaughtered in what police said were satanic rituals involving candles, machetes and chants.
On the property that the now-closed San Antonio Light newspaper quickly billed as the "Devil Ranch" -- a name other media outlets soon adopted -- was a shack used for the sacrifices. Inside, authorities found a cauldron with human remains, including a brain and a heart. Some spines had been crafted into necklaces.
Authorities said Aldrete was a godmother of the cult and presided over the rituals.
Kilroy's parents said they have forgiven her, but added they believe she's too dangerous to let go.
George Gavito, former chief investigator for the Cameron County Sheriff's Office, said he has no sympathy for Aldrete.
"The witch deserves everything she got," said Gavito, who was involved in the search for Kilroy and was there when his body was recovered.
Aldrete, then 24, was a college student with two lives.
North of the Rio Grande, she was an honors student and avid volleyball player at Texas Southmost College in Brownsville.
In Mexico, she pursued her fascination with Santerma, which she said she learned about in an anthropology class.
She became close to Adolfo de Jesus Constanzo, a charismatic Cuban American, said to be a Santerma godfather.
After they fled the border area in the wake of the Kilroy murder investigation, Constanzo died in a gunbattle with Mexico City police. Aldrete surrendered.
As she rolls up her sleeves and hikes her pant legs, the scars and bumps serve as visible reminders, she said, of the ensuing torture by federales.
Not that she'll ever forget it. She says she was stripped, blindfolded, hung upside down, beaten, had her toenails yanked out and was burned inside and out -- so severely, she says, a doctor said she could never have children.
Release won't happen for at least 10 years. The law stipulates Aldrete can serve up to 50 years and is eligible to ask for early release after 25. Her sentence was reduced from 647 years.
Police deny they tortured Aldrete. It is difficult to verify her claims.
There are no juries in Mexico and testimony is given in written declarations. Aldrete was convicted behind closed doors.