KILLERS & CULTS

WHO AM I?

My name is Jack Steen. 

That name shouldn’t mean anything to you. But it does to others and that’s what counts. 

I’m a nobody, really. 

I’m not a writer. I’m not a storyteller. I’m not a goddamn thing.

I’m just a man who wipes the asses of that society couldn’t give two shits about. I give them their medicine, change their diapers, and provide something no one else has… 

An audience.

I work as a night nurse in the Asylum. 

Which one? Doesn’t matter – they’re all the same. After you read the stories, you should be able to figure it out, but apparently, I might get sued if I actually say the name, so I won’t.

You picked up this book because of the title, right? Deathbed Confessions of the Criminally Insane. That’s exactly what you’re about to read. 

That’s what I do. I take their deathbed confessions. The ones no one else has heard. The ones everyone wants to hear.

My patients tell me their stories, they confess their messed up lives because I do what no one else in this fucking asylum does.

I listen. 

I’ve worked here the longest out of anyone on my floor. I’ve got the scars, the stitches, the broken bones to prove it. I worked my way from the shittiest jobs here to the one I have now.

I used to think being a nurse was my calling. My passion. 

I thought I could make a difference, that what I did was important. 

I was stupid to think anything in life was worth this shit. 

I used to work in a hospital full of people who had lives and loved ones that cared about them. Most of my patients here have been discarded, forgotten about, left to spend their final days alone. 

I won’t tell you which hospital I work at. 

I won’t tell you the names of those dying.

But I won’t lie to you.

You’ll read exactly what I’m told. 

Instead of their real names, I’ll tell you the names I gave them. The names I whisper in their ear as they fall asleep. Sometimes they hate these names, but I don’t care. 

If you’re smart, if you can read between the lines, you’ll know who is telling the story.

I can’t say all the stories are one hundred percent true but like every tale ever told, there’s always a nugget of truth – but then, what the fuck do I know?

These sadistic bastards could be playing their final game with me by messing with my head and now, they could be playing with yours.

ALYSSA.

There’s not much that churns my stomach. 

Well, there are a few things, but considering all I’ve seen while working here at The Asylum, all in all, there’s not much that bothers me. 

However, there are some patients that not just churn my stomach, but their story kicks right in the gut and doesn’t stop until you’re down for the count.

Bucket was one of those patients. You remember her confession, right?

That girl, her story pulled at every single heartstring, twisted them, and tied them in knots that will never come undone.

This next patient I’m introducing you to, she’s not like Bucket, but she’s close. 

Close as in: her story is fucked up big time, and I’m not sure if she can be blamed for her actions.

Although, why she did what she did, I can’t wrap my head around that. I don’t think you will be able to either.

A few days ago, I got the heads up that she may be joining us sooner or later, so I had Buckets old room readied for her. I even brought in one of Mom’s knitted throws and left it on the bed for her.

Alyssa is the sweetest thing, and her blue eyes just suck you in, much like those summer days when you lay out on the grass and gaze up to the sky, you know?

I’ll admit, it’s been a while since I’ve laid out on the grass in the middle of a sweltering summer, but I do remember those days. I remember taking advantage of my days off, of what it was like to sweat my ass off, to wake up to a blistering burn because I’d been stupid enough to start day drinking the minute I opened my eyes. I remember sitting in a hunting blind or fishing off the bank of a river…I miss those days. I miss that youth. I miss the kid I used to be.

I wonder if Alyssa ever thinks about her youth? If she misses who she used to be, or if she’s blocked all of that out? I’m hoping I’ll have the opportunity to ask her and that she will tell me the truth, not just what I want to hear.

People say the eyes are windows to our souls. For me, you staring into my eyes will only reveal an empty box full of nothingness, as Ike likes to say, but when it comes to Alyssa, it’s like looking into a kaleidoscope.

You can’t trust Alyssa’s eyes.  

ASHER SMITH.

Halloween. Probably my favorite time of the year. 

As a child, we love it for the decorating and all that candy. 

As an adult, I love it for the costumes, candy, and all the movies. Come on, there’s nothing better than sitting my ass down on the couch with a beer in hand and pizza on the coffee table and rewatching all the scary movies on tv. 

Ike and I have a contest – to see who can watch the most from our list. We produce one every year, making sure to add at least five new movies we haven’t seen before. Every shift for the month of October, we talk about what we watched before coming in, dissect the scary bits, and generally mock all the actors.

My all-time favorite Halloween movie is the original 1978 Halloween. In my opinion, and millions of others, by the way, it’s the best in the franchise, and every single scary movie since then is based on the original. 

If you want to disagree with me – don’t tell me. 

Ike prefers Friday the Thirteenth. Why I don’t know, but each their own, I guess.

There’s really no comparison between Mike Myers and Jason, is there?

So, why am I mentioning Halloween?

This next patient…it’s what he’s known for. He’s no Mike Myers or anything, but he’s just as bad. 

This patient is called The Candyman. 

Three guesses why, and I bet you get it on the first try. 

It won’t take a genius to put two and two together. Halloween plus candy equals every parent’s nightmare.

In this case, it’s all true. 

Yeah, I’ll bet you are telling me that the whole putting poison in candy is a myth – trust me, I’ve heard it. It’s a scare tactic parents use with their kids so they can take all the best candy or stop their kids from eating too much in one night…but what if it wasn’t a myth?

While there’s no real boogeyman in the little towns of America poisoning children, there was a monster who took this myth and made it a reality.

Every myth has a nugget of truth to it. You realize that, right?

I’ll be honest with you – taking his confession was not something I wanted to do. I mean…who wants to hear from someone who poisoned children? There’s been some noise though, from one guard to an orderly to someone else and then to the Warden, that he’s got something to confess, but he’ll only say it to me. 

Fuck me a new one. Of course, Warden wants me to take this confession. If there’s some new info, he’ll share this with the powers that be and earn himself another notch or two. We all know how this game works by now, right?

I’ve made it very clear I don’t want to speak to this patient. 

By now, I know some of you through my Patreon page, and I can almost see you opening a new tab on your phone or computer and googling The Candyman, right?