Most women we know are turned off my disturbed, psycho killers, but not Caril Ann Fugate. When her boyfriend, Charles Starkweather, got into an argument with her mother and killed both of her parents, Fugate didn't run in the other direction, report him to authorities, or even break up with him.

Her next move: She helped him hide the bodies, and then ran off with him on a cross-country killing spree during which, together, they took out nearly a dozen victims. Forgiving him would have been one level of crazy in and of itself, but joining him in his insanity? There's nothing romantic about murder, unless, of course, you're totally crazy.