#delucat

A file about the 2003 Murder Case. . . . In order to protect the privacy of the individuals and victims, in the following article, all names have been altered except the murderer. The details of the story have been adapted to make it smoother, but I will try to tell thing.

==

"Mr. Helen Otis?"    I called out to the boy who sat in front of me, but he didn’t reply. He was wearing a light blue patient robe, His dark green circles under his eyes, his messy jet black hair, and his skin, pale as paper. His gaze straight at me, like how a predator stares at its prey. I’m a psychiatrist, my job is to interview patients. He’s been here for some time now, but I’ve never seen him communicate with other patients. He always stayed in the corner of the room. Needless to say, he was an eccentric child.

This is a judicial psychiatric hospital. The only difference between this is the way we treat patients with a criminal record, to prevent the patients from another infraction.

His silence didn’t help at all. "Do you know this?" I pull out a picture in front of him, it showed a set of black-rimmed glasses on the road, this was his crime scene.. He stared at the picture and spoke softly, “This is from my best friend." "Can you tell me something about it? “I asked but he just stared at me without saying a single word. "Look, since you came here, we have not been making any progress. If you can tell me something about this, then just tell me about it. Please.” After I finished my plead, he heaved a sigh and said, “It's rather a long story…”

His story is about a very quiet teen in the class who was accused of stealing a watch which belonged to a very popular classmate. This caused him to be bullied by a group of students. He and one of those students named Tom became friends, but later found that his friend had framed him. They argued at the rooftop and Tom accidentally fell to his death. This is the photo of Tom’s glasses after the accident occured. "I tried to save him, I tried to pull him up, but he let go of my hand, I didn’t know what he was thinking at the time." He finished his story, then looked down at his hands. He seems to be thinking about something. Recalling seemed to give him anxiety. I had predicted this before he said anything. The patients who were sent here as well as their cases are recorded in their files. Intriguing cases  from high schools are very common for teens like Otis. Bygone memories of the past fade. But not in the case of Tom's death. Maybe that’s why Helen can’t forget the past or forgive himself. "What happened after that?" I continued my questions, at least we're making some improvement. "After Tom died, Halloween was just around the corner, and the school had a Halloween party, and everyone had to dress up. I prepared a mask one night before the event, I was tired so I napped ... and then I found myself here." In the file, it stated that he killed 17 people that night. No one knows how he did it. They don’t rule out the fact more than 1 person was involved. "Do you remember what happened during the party? Any details?" I asked. But he shook his head and then continued to look down at his fingers, "Doctor, why am I here?" He asked quietly. "Because you are ill." I answered. He rose his head in response. "Come on, you are only 14 years old, your future is still very bright." I gave him a pat and smile, hoping to cheer him up. I want to let him know that I’m his friend, not an enemy. This was what I said to that boy, this was the first time that her ever spoke more than a word. Well, at least he was talking now. We made good progress here.

==

The atmosphere always suffocates me, maybe because this is a hospital. Not a best place for a sane person to stay for long. I get surrounded by different patients every day. I had grown accustomed to it until now. I feel something unfamiliar. I feel like I am a frail sheep amongst a pack of hungry wolves. I am pretty sure this place is  slowly eating my sanity away little by little. Something in Helen Otis’s file stuck with me. I decided to ask him in person in the next coming interview.

We met in the small room like the previous time. I greeted him with a smile and he responded with a few blinks. I took that as a greeting from him. As I sat down at my place, I flipped open my notes on his case and looked him in the eyes. I questioned the femininity of his name. "Helen? Did your parents name you this?" He thought for a minute then told me that his parents had difficulty conceiving children, and they were eager to have a daughter, but instead gave birth to a boy. Due to his mother’s weak health and their financial situations, they couldn’t have any other children as much as they hoped so. They decided to raise their only son as a daughter.

As he finished his sentence, he fell into silence. As I was thinking what kind of response I should give, he opened his mouth again. Not only does his name sound feminine, his parents also bought girl’s clothing for him when he was younger, raised him like a daughter instead of a son. Neighbours and children around the area did not know that he was actually a boy. When he reached the age of six, he had to go to school. Afraid that, the way he was raised will cause a huge concern, his parents tried changing their ways, finally treating him as a son. Maybe this is why he has some feminine characteristics. "My parents are very fond of me, and I understand their difficulties, so I have not complained about them. I do not think they have any problems." His family is very dysfunctional. he grew up under his parent’s twisted faith and overly high expectations, which affected his growth. He lost some basic human traits, but he didn’t notice. Plus, he doesn't seem to know how to express his feelings due to the environment that he grew up in. It’s hard to change the patient’s opinion on their family’s faith, I wanted to tell him what his parents were doing is wrong but it wasn't the right time. So I kept my mouth shut.

==

Although he rarely talks to other people in the hospital, he talks politely whenever he does. We chatted sometimes, we sat on the white bench in the park, we looked like best friends. We don’t always talk about things related to hospital. We talked nonsense sometimes, and it was these moments that we both felt relaxed, especially me. I really felt the tension between us loosening. In this place, patients will randomly pick fights with one another. He won't pick fights but neither does he stop them. He always manages to avoid any form of chaos, and live peacefully. That’s pretty smart of him.

==

In the year 2001, 3rd of October, he was discharged from the hospital after receiving treatment for 7 years and it’s time for him to return back to society. He is now 21 years old. He’s no longer the young boy I remember. I was the one seeing him off, thinking back made me feel happy for him. “Don’t you ever come back here, Helen. If you come back here again, we will only meet when you are sitting on the electric chair.” Those were the last words I said to him as I pat his shoulder and smiled, he nodded in response. He had a good nature if you asked me. I remember the look of him when he left. He wore a dark blue windbreaker and a pair of black pants, his hair was still the same messy jet black. Won’t he try to comb his hair a little? I truly hoped that I wouldn’t be seeing him in this place again. After his discharge from the hospital, he was behaving well. We sometimes talk by email or meet up at a café, we talked about what were we doing now. He works as a mover and a cleaner as a part-time job. His body has grown quite muscular, looking much healthier than when I first saw him. He saved a small amount of cash, and rented a small old house, the environment is quiet and nice. He had brought some art tools and started to draw. He told me that he wanted to become a painter. He still didn’t talk much but I am happy that he found his goal in life. He said he never blamed his parents for what they had done to him but he never once visited his parents after he was discharged. After we confirmed that he wasn’t any threat to society, we finished our observations on him.

==

In the year 2003, October, there were a few missing persons cases. Judy George, and Maggie Wang, both aged 24 were a few of the victims who were missing. These cases were very popular at that time, but I didn’t really care.

(A User posted this photo on a social network, he said his CCTV recorded this picture on 31/10/2003, at 2:30 am and stated that “someone tried to break in my neighbour's house.)

(There is a human figure behind the masked man, he/she seems like fainted.)

The police have no clue on who is responsible for these cases, they thought it was some guilty pleasure freak behind them. (Note: There was no specific motive. It just seemed this was all done for some sick satisfaction, making him harder to track down)

Until the police found out the victims were all in the same class with Helen Otis, before he entered the hospital, as well as the survivors from the gruesome case from a few years ago. The police decided to investigate his home. When I saw the news, I felt my heart skip a beat. I tried to contact him as well but to no avail.but to no avail. Something bad was going to happen. I sat in front of my TV. My mind jammed like glue, I can’t think of anything, or do anything. “God no, please no.” Echoed in my mind. (Helen Otis‘s old house is now under police investigation.)

On the 17th of November, the night was dead quiet, that place was silent, which made his house in the middle of a field look more eerie. The police broke the lock on the door and opened it slowly. A rotten stench greeted the intruders from the darkness of the house.

One of the policemen shown a torch through the home. Surprisingly, there wasn’t a piece of furniture in the entire structure. Apparently no one had lived there for quite some time. They moved inside quietly to check the source of the smell. Suddenly, one of the policemen felt something brush against his shoulder, when he pointed his torch up, he saw something that scarred his mind. An upside-down human with a twisted face was eying the police. The corpse's neck has been ripped wide open. The policeman freaked out and called out to the others as he scanned the rest of the house with his torch. The house was full of such corpses, like a butcher's shop.

(Judy George, Age 24 ) [lost image file]

Every single body’s flesh was a drawing canvas, the writing on top of it was the process of killing the victims. One of the body’s jaws had gotten ripped away brutally. All the “paint” on the canvas was brown, this was proven later to be the victim's’ blood after analysis, turning brown because of the oxidation. There was a total of 5 bodies in this house, including Judy and Maggie. The other three were the ones who gave witness about the murder case involving Helen to the policemen a few years ago. This home seemed to be more like a gruesome art gallery of victims than a butcher's. All of the bodies and canvases were facing the entrance, as if they were greeting the ones who enter this place. The police couldn’t figure out the intention of the murderer other than him making a cruel joke. I fell into despair I’d never felt before, I really hope that he was not the one who did all this. After the news was published, neither can I eat nor sleep normally. My health was sliding downhill, my sanity escaping. Can anything can be WORSE than this? I really want to go back in time and punch myself.

(Newspaper of 18th November 2003)

Next day after the news was released, I received a call from the police and they asked me about the murderer. They received Helen Otis’ patient file from me. I told them everything I knew about him. The police took note that I was not well. I told them that I was terribly shaken by the Discovery of Helen Otis. I told them that Helen is really a good person. He was just walking down the wrong path, I THOUGHT I had stopped him from going astray. The police found a letter at the crime scene. They asked me to stay calm. The letter was written for me. I asked to receive the copy of the letter from the police. They complied, and then they left. I stared at the letter, thinking of whether to read it or not. I was on the verge of a breakdown, but I felt something in the letter could salvage me. As I sat back in my couch, I don’t know how long I was I staring at the letter in my hands. Then I slowly opened it and began to read…

“Dear doctor, I finally remember what happened that night after I looked at my mask. That night 7 years ago, the day before Halloween, I kept fidgeting on my bed, unable to sleep. All of the things that happened to me stung my mind like needles, that time I thought to myself, I had to do something about it! Then it happened… I threw a turned on hair dryer into the public bathtub, there were lot of people present. I remembered I used a simple fork to dig someone’s eyes out, I remembered I ripped someone's head from his neck, I attacked everyone who lived in the student dorm… I can’t fully remember all the details, I just did what my mind told me to. When no one was screaming or struggling anymore, peace fell upon me, a peaceful feeling I never felt before. I fell to my well-deserved slumber, on a pile of bloody bodies. When I opened my eyes again, I saw you, doc. You said that the reason I am here was because I am sick. Well, I must pretty ill for now but I never felt so peaceful in my life. Maybe, I am better off to be sick like this. You told me that next time we meet is on the electric chair. What if it was the other way round? You must know that I have got my own way to meet you in person. See you soon. : ) “

When I finished his letter, my mind went completely blank. What the hell was he trying to say? His last words sent a chill down my spine, I felt like a prey to him, I became one of his targets to hunt down. Wait, no. Maybe when he was still in the hospital, I was already a prey to him, maybe he longed for this day to come. God knows what was going on in his head. He never showed his emotion, even though I am his doctor. I could never truly understand what kind of a person he was. I even thought of him as a friend. Hell, I even said he was my own child! Everything we went through was just a lie? Why am I so fucking dumb that I forgot the rules of the hospital? They won’t send any sane person into that fucking place! The police won’t be on patrol at this time. My life is like an unstable time bomb, until the day he gets arrested, I will never know what he will do, my chance of getting killed by him will stay the same.

I don’t know when the worst scenario will happen to me, so I wrote it down, at least I won’t die without letting others know what happened, that’s what I think. I live alone and it's bad. I began to be paranoid about my environment, even little things made me jump. Before any of this happened, he used to be the most harmless patient I ever met with but now, he can kill me any second he wanted to, i'm like helpless prey. This is what I get from ignoring the fact that he is a criminal, and tried to save him myself. This is not a lost teen who walked the wrong path in his life, this is actually a real life criminal! And here I am, staring at what he is really capable of. Maybe his stable behaviour was all nothing but an act. The moment that I felt happy for his “recovery” was only for me. I don’t know how to face him anymore, I don’t know what was going to happen next. I truly hope everything will be okay soon. . . . . . . I just heard my house’s door open.

(This article was written in Dr. Elmer Christopher’s notebook in the drawer, there were some old newspaper articles attached with it. He already moved out of this house when the new house owner had found this and posted it online.)