Bloody Painter

## Bloody Painter by DeluCat

This is Helen, 14 years old. The dark circles under his eyes make him feel as if he has never slept. He doesn't care about his messy black hair, since he doesn't like to put too much effort into tidying himself up; it’s unnecessary. His seat is at the back of the classroom, next to the window; he always sits there drawing quietly, as it is like everything with him. He doesn't like to socialize with people, making him feel very lonely. There was a person being pushed to the floor after school.

That’s Tom, who is always the victim of bullying, not because he did anything before, just because people hate Tom for no reason. These things happen often, and Helen is used to it. Though he does feel bad for Tom, he doesn't want to interfere, as it is quite bothersome. During recess, Judy says she’s missing her watch as she searches for it. Helen doesn't help her, since it’s none of his business.

Suddenly, someone sees something flashing in Helen’s bag. “What’s this?” Ban says, as he puts his hand into the bag, and takes out a watch that is trimmed with fake diamonds. Helen is very surprised to see it, as he does not know how it got there. “Ah! That’s my watch!” Judy receives the watch from Ban after seeing the situation. Both of them stare at Helen with a weird glare. “It’s not me,” says Helen, who is still drawing on his notebook without raising his head a bit. “Yeah right,” Judy leaves the classroom with Ban as she concludes.

The following day, as usual, Helen sits at his table drawing. She notices that the atmosphere doesn't feel right around him; people start whispering about him, and even a few starts calling him a “Thief”. He decides not to explain for himself, as he knows that it’s useless to do so. As time passes, Helen becomes the new target or victim for people to bully; everything he does now is being exaggerated. He doesn't like it, but he doesn't resist. He keeps the feelings in his heart, keeping silent.

Until one day, Ban came to him and snatched his notebook, with his unfinished drawings on it. “Always doing these meaningless things.” Says Ban as he tears down a few pages of drawings, tearing them into pieces, wanting to see Helen’s reaction. At this rate, the feelings that he has been holding bursts out. He punches Ban in the face, and starts the fight. Helen isn't that powerful however, so he was beaten up in no time. Other students went to see the fight, without stopping it; some people even stomped him in his face and stomach.

Right after the bell rings, everyone stops what they're doing and went back to their seats before the teacher came. Helen returned to his seat, as if nothing happened. The teacher enters the room later on, “Oh my, Helen! What happened?” Helen has so many visible bruises on him that the teacher notices right after she enters the room. Everybody turns to look at him, waiting for him to give a response while glaring at him with a murderous look. “I fell from the stairs, Miss.” Helen replies as the glares disappear. After returning home from school, his parents also ask him what happened, and he responds with the same answer.

The blue jacket he is wearing covers all of the bruises other than those on his face. His parents believe it without doubts. Usually, when Helen’s parents ask him about how he is at school, he always says he’s fine. He even lied about making a lot of friends, living happily every day. Helen refuses to tell his parents the truth, since he doesn't want to make his parents worry about him.

A few months later, he has gotten used to the negative comments about him, and getting hit or humiliated has been a normal event for him; he is completely immune to these things now. Who framed him in the first place? Why did the culprit do this? This doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters anymore now.  “Hi! You there?” Helen receives a message from an unknown user on Facebook. “Who're you?” He replies. “I’m Tom, your classmate.” Tom has never interacted with him before. This surprised him a bit. “What is it?” Helen says. “Um… are you alright?” “It’s none of your business.” Helen concludes Tom’s question. Tom types for a while before coming up with, “Listen, I know how u feel right now. You’re in the same situation as I am. I really want to help u, but I can’t… sorry.” Afterwards, Tom and Helen text each other for a long time, and Helen feels much better after telling him all the pain and feelings he has been through.

He can even joke around with Tom, often using “ : )” to show his happiness. This is the first time he thinks he has made a friend. It is a warm weather in the afternoon. “Come meet me on the roof after the first period in the afternoon. We need to talk, don’t ask me why.” texted Tom last night. Following his instructions, Helen meets Tom on the roof, waving his hand and walking towards him, saying “Hey Tom! What’s up, friend?”

“Um… I have something to say…something important…” says Tom with a serious face.

“Remember the watch thieving incident?” How could Helen forget about it? That was how he started suffering! Helen nods to show he remembers.

“I was the culprit!” Tom looked down, scared to look into his eyes.

“WHAT?!” Helen was shocked.

“I stole Judy’s watch and framed you as the culprit.”

“Why did you do this?”

“With you as the new target of victim, my life is much better.” Tom smirks.

It’s true however that, when everybody decides to bully Helen, they won’t bother Tom anymore. He’s just like an abandoned toy. For him that is totally perfect. As long as he keeps silent he will be able to live his school life safe and sound. He succeeded; the plan was outstandingly perfect. Helen grabs the collar of his shirt, and, after pushing each other around a bit, they ended up near the edge of the roof. Tom slips and falls from the roof. Helen instantly grabs his hand, and tries to pull him back up, but Helen does not have that much strength to do so.

“I’m so sorry, Helen.” Tom falls. Helen closes his eyes, scared to look at what’s going to happen. He cannot imagine what will happen to one after falling from a 6 story tall building. After the policemen arrive, they have an interview with Helen. He was too horrified by the accident, however, to say even a word. Once again, Helen becomes the topic of discussion between students.

Some people thought Helen pushed Tom from the roof, but most of the others think that Tom committed suicide, and Helen failed saving him, because they saw him grabbing Tom’s hand before he fell. That night, Helen was in his room crying, shivering, and he couldn't stop the guiltiness form that is growing inside of him. He needed to calm down. Suddenly, a thought flashed in his mind: “It’s not my fault that Tom died. He deserved to die!” This made him feel much better, and his guilt began to fade away, too. Helen creepily smiles, “Tom has had his punishment… I suppose it’s time for others to have theirs, isn’t it?” His cries turn into laughter in the dark.

Helen’s classmates decide to have a party on the day of Halloween, but it’s not to celebrate Halloween, it’s just to have their friends come together to party. Of course, Helen was not invited to the party. The night before the day of Halloween Judy and Maggie were texting each other on Facebook. Both of them live in the school dorm, and Judy’s room is next to Maggie’s.

09:03 – Judy: who’s going to come on tomorrow’s party? I’m so excited : D

09:03 – Maggie: most of our class will be there. But I texted Ban so many times, and even though all the messages I sent are read, he just never replies to me. The hells wrong with him?

09:04 – Judy: he’s probably working I guess

09:06 – Maggie: something weird is happening…I’ve been hearing footsteps coming from my door for a long time…I think someone’s walking around the dorm

09:06 – Maggie: wait, I’ll go check (Using the hole on the door, Maggie saw something unusual…)

09:07 – Maggie: o my god!! there’s a guy outside who’s wearing a mask and a blue jacket, and he’s holding a knife. and HES ALL BLOODY!!

09:07 – Maggie: f\*\*k! he’s knocking my door now

09:08 – Maggie: oh god oh god oh god!!!!

09:08 – Judy: just calm down, and find a weapon or something

09:08 – Judy: protect yourself!

09:09 – Maggie: He's turning the doorknob, good thing I locked it

09:09 – Maggie: I’m scared!!

09:09 – Judy: Maggie

09:09 – Maggie: what should I do?!

09:09 – Judy: Maggie, listen

09:09 – Maggie: SAVE ME!!

09:09 – Judy: Maggie, calm down

09:09 – Judy: Maggie

09:10 – Judy: Maggie?

09:10 – Judy: u there?

The message is shown to be read, but Judy just doesn't see Maggie’s response. Suddenly Judy hears the sound of her room door opening. The instance she turns around, she feels a terrible pain on her stomach. A bloody person who is wearing a mask and a blue jacket bursts into the room and stabs her. That night, all of the students who were in the dorm were murdered. No one knows how that killer did it. The murderer used the victims’ blood to paint on the walls of the dorm, with most of the paintings being the face “: )”.

Many of the corpses were being chopped and mashed, possibly to get more “pigments”. Helen Otis, the culprit, is still missing currently.  However, in the chat room where Judy and Maggie texted each other, a message was written that respond to Judy’s first message at 09:03:

“11:15 – Judy: don’t be excited about tomorrow : )" because there will be no tomorrow.

## Bloody Painter 2017 by 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 for the murderer's. The details of the story have been changed to make it smoother, but it will also try to tell you everything you need to know.

"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 eyes were sunken, his jet-black hair was messy, and his skin was pale in an unhealthy way. His gaze was directed at me, like he was trying to read me.

I'm a psychiatrist, and it's my job to interview patients. He's been here for some time now, but I haven't seen him interact with other patients. He's always sitting in the corner of his room. Needless to say, he is a strange kid.

This is a judicial psychiatric hospital. The only difference between this place and a mental asylum is the way we treat mentally ill people with criminal records. We try to prevent them from harming or threatening other people's safety again.

"Do you recognize this?" I pulled out a picture in front of him. It showed a set of black-rimmed glasses on a road, this was a crime scene.

He stared at the picture and spoke softly.

"It belonged to my best friend."

"Can you tell me something about it?" I asked, but he just stared at me without saying a word.

"Look, ever since you came here, we haven't made any progress. If you can tell me anything about this, then just say something, please."

After I finished, he heaved a sigh.

"It's... a long story..."

His story was about a very quiet teenager who was accused of stealing a watch that belonged to a very popular classmate. This caused him to be bullied relentlessly by the other students. However, he became friends with Tom, a classmate who was also a victim of bullying. But a few weeks later, he discovered that his friend had framed him for the theft. They had a fight on the school's rooftop and Tom accidentally fell to his death. The photo I showed him was of Tom's glasses after the tragedy.

"I tried to save him. I tried to pull him up, but he just let go of my hand. I still don't know what he was thinking at the time."

He finished his story, and then looked down at his hands, thinking. Recalling such a traumatic moment makes him feel anxious and guilty, a clear sign of emotional distress.

I already predicted what he would say. The patients who are sent here have their cases recorded in their files. A witness stated that Helen was the culprit behind Tom's fall, but no lawsuit was made due to the lack of concrete evidence.

Such incidents from school are common for teenagers like Helen. Most of them are just bygones to him, but not in the case of Tom's death. I doubt Helen will ever forget what happened that day, or forgive himself.

"What happened after that?" I continued. At least we were making some improvement.

"After Tom died, Halloween was just around the corner, and one of my classmates organized a party at their dorm for the occasion. Everyone was invited and had to dress up as anything they wanted. I prepared a white mask that night. But when I was finished with it, I was so tired. I just fell asleep, and when I woke up... I found myself here."

In the file, it is stated that he killed 17 people that night. No one knows how he did it. The police didn't rule out the possibility that more than one person was involved in the massacre. When Helen was apprehended, he was unresponsive to questioning. Because of that, he was deemed unfit to stand trial, so the judge declared him not guilty by reason of insanity.

"Do you remember what happened at the party? Any details?" I asked. 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 raised his head in response. "Come on, you are only 14 years old, your future is still very bright."

I patted him and smiled, hoping to cheer him up. I wanted him to know that I'm his friend, not an enemy.

This was the first time he ever spoke more than a word to me. Well, at least he was talking for now. We made good progress there.

==

The atmosphere of this place always suffocates me, probably because this is a hospital for the mentally ill. Not the best place for a sane person to stay for very long.

I get surrounded by different patients every day. I thought I'd get used to it by now, but somehow I'm still a nervous wreck even after many years of working here. I feel like a frail sheep surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves. This place is somehow always giving me a feeling of anxiety.

Something about Helen piqued my interest. I decided to ask him about it in the forthcoming interview.

We met in the same 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 in my chair, I flipped open my notes on his case and looked at him in the eyes. I questioned the femininity of his name.

"Helen? Did your parents name you this?"

He thought for a moment and told me that his parents wanted the family to be in a certain way. They were eager to have a daughter, but they had a boy instead. Due to his mother's poor health and their financial situation, they couldn't have any other children. So they decided to raise their only son as a daughter.

Not only does his name sound feminine, but his parents also bought him girls' clothing when he was a toddler. The neighbors and children around the area were unaware that he was actually a boy.

When he turned six, he had to go to school. Afraid that the way he was raised would cause a huge concern, his parents tried changing their ways, finally treating him like a son. Maybe this is why he has some feminine features.

As he finished his response, he fell into silence. As I was thinking about what kind of response I should give, he opened his mouth again.

"My parents are very fond of me, and I always understood what they were going through, so I haven't complained about their methods. I don't think they have any problems."

I completely disagree. His family is very dysfunctional. He was shaped by his parents' twisted methods and overly high expectations, which had a negative impact on his childhood that he didn't seem to notice. In addition, he lacks both moral and gender consciousness, and doesn't seem to know how to express his feelings because of his upbringing.

Sometimes it's hard to change a patient's opinion about their family. I wanted to tell him what his parents were doing was wrong, but I figured it wasn't the right time.

==

I noticed that Helen rarely talks to the other people in the hospital, but whenever he does, he speaks politely and in a very calm tone.

We chat sometimes while sitting on our favorite white bench. We look like best friends. We don't really talk about things related to the hospital or his case, we just talk about completely unrelated topics, and these are the moments when we both feel genuinely relaxed, especially me.

I feel how the tension between us loosens every time we have a conversation.

In this place, patients will randomly pick fights with one another. Helen, on the other hand, doesn't start any fights, but he doesn't stop them either. He always manages to avoid all forms of chaos and live peacefully. That's pretty smart of him.

==

On March 3rd, 2001, he was discharged from the hospital after receiving treatment for seven years and it was time for him to return 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 makes me feel happy for him.

"Don't you ever come back here, Helen. If you do, we will only meet when you are sitting on the electric chair." Those were the last words I said to him as his doctor. I patted his shoulder and smiled, he nodded in response.

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 jet-black mess. Won't he try to comb his hair a little?

I truly hope that I won't see him in that place again.

Ever since he was discharged from the hospital, he's been behaving well. We sometimes talk by email or meet up at a café, and we talk about what we're doing nowadays.

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 met him.

He saved up some cash and rented a small, old house. The environment is quiet and nice. He bought some art tools and started to draw. He told me that he wanted to become a painter. He still doesn't talk much but I am happy that he found his goal in life.

He said that he never blamed his parents for what they had done to him, but he never visited them after he was discharged.

After we confirmed that he was no longer a threat to society, we finished our observations on him.

==

In October 2003, there were a few missing person reports. Judy George, and Maggie Wang; both aged 24. They were a few of the victims who were missing. These cases were very popular at the time, but in the beginning, I wasn't really interested.

The police had no clue who was responsible for those disappearances at first, but a camera caught the culprit knocking out one of his victims, but he was wearing a mask that covered his entire face, making him harder to track down, and they couldn't figure out his intention.

(A user posted this photo on a social network. They said that their CCTV recorded this picture on 31/10/2003, at 2:30 am and stated, "Someone tried to break into my neighbor's house.")

Sometime later, the police found out that all of the missing people were in the same class as Helen Otis before he entered the hospital, as well as the few survivors from the massacre back in 1994. With that clue in mind, the police decided to investigate his house.

When I saw the news, I felt how my heart skipped a beat. I tried to contact him, but he never responded.

I feared for the worst as I sat in front of my TV. My mind was a total mess. I couldn't think of anything else or do anything that would calm me down.

"God no... Please, no..." echoed in my mind.

(Helen Otis' old house is now under police investigation.)

On the night of November 17th, everything was dead quiet, which made his dark house look eerier. The police broke the lock and slowly opened the front door. An unbearable stench greeted them from the darkness.

The investigators checked the entire house with their flashlights. Surprisingly, there wasn't a piece of furniture in the entire structure, suggesting that the house was deserted long ago.

They walked around quietly to check the source of the smell. Suddenly, one of the policemen felt something brush against his shoulder. When he pointed his flashlight up, he saw something that scarred his mind.

A dead woman hung upside down with a twisted face was eying the cop. The woman's throat was torn open.

The policeman panicked and called out to the others as he scanned the rest of that house of horrors. The house was full of such corpses, like a butcher's shop.

(Judy George, Age 24)

Every single body was used as art palettes for some drawing canvases, which showed numerous smiling faces, and the writing on the walls told the process of killing the victims. One of the victims had their jaw brutally torn from the mouth to make a grotesque sculpture made of various body parts. The "paint" on the canvases was brown; this was proven later to be the victims' blood after analysis, turning brown because of the oxidation.

There were five bodies in total inside the house, including Judy and Maggie. The other three were the ones who witnessed Helen's brutal killing spree at the dorm and reported him to the police.

That house looked more like a gruesome art gallery of mangled corpses than a butcher's shop. All of the bodies and canvases with drawn smiling faces were facing the entrance as if they were "greeting" those who entered the place. The police department confiscated all of the "artworks" and restricted the house for investigation. However, Otis was nowhere to be found.

I fell into a despair that I'd never felt before. I hoped that he wasn't the one responsible for those horrible murders. Ever since the results of the investigation were made public, I couldn't eat or sleep normally. Both my health and sanity have been slipping away ever since. Can anything be worse than this?

I really want to go back in time and punch myself.

(Newspaper of 18th November 2003)

The next day after the information was released to the public, I received a call from the police department, and they asked me about the murderer.

They received Helen's patient file from me. I told them everything that I knew about him. The police took note that I was not well. I told them that I was terribly shaken by what Helen had done. I told them that Helen was a good person. He was just walking down the wrong path, and I thought that I stopped him from going astray.

The cops told me that they found a letter at the crime scene. They must've noticed that I felt very uneasy, because they asked me to stay calm. They said that the letter was written for me, so I asked to receive a copy. They complied, and then they left.

I stared at the letter for so long, debating whether I should read it or not. I was on the verge of a breakdown, but I felt that something in the letter could at the very least give me some sense of closure.

I sat on the couch. I still don't know for how long I stared at the letter in my hands, but I took a deep breath, I slowly opened it and began to read...

"Dear doctor,

I finally remember what happened that night after I looked at my mask. The Halloween night from 9 years ago. I kept fidgeting in my bed, unable to sleep. All of the things that happened with me and Tom stung my mind like needles. I convinced myself that I had to do something about it!

Then it happened... When I got to the party, I threw a turned-on hair dryer on the wet floor of the bathroom. There were a lot of people present. I remember how I used a fork to dig someone's eyes out. I remember how I twisted somebody's neck. I attacked everyone who lived in the student dorm. I can't fully remember the rest. I just did what my mind told me to do. When no one was screaming or struggling anymore, peace fell upon me. A peaceful feeling that 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 was in that hospital was because I was ill. Well, I must be pretty sick now, but I never felt so peaceful in my life. Maybe I am better off sick like this.

You told me that the next time we'd meet would be with me on the electric chair. What if it was the other way around? I'll let you know that I will have my own way to meet you again.

See you soon, : )"

When I finished reading his letter, my mind went completely blank. What the hell was he trying to say?

His last words sent a chill down my spine as I realized that I had just become another one of his targets. Wait, no... Maybe when he was in the hospital, I was already prey to him, maybe he waited for this day to come.

God knows what was going on in his head. He never showed his emotions, even though I was his doctor. I never truly understood what kind of person he was. I even thought of him as a friend. Hell, I even once said that he was like the son I never had!

Everything we've done together was just a lie? How the fuck could I have forgotten the rules of the hospital?! How could I be so stupid?! They won't send any sane person into that fucking place!

The police won't be on patrol at this time. My life will be like an unstable time bomb until he gets arrested, and I'll never know what he'll do. My chance of getting killed by him will stay the same.

I don't know when or how he will kill me, but at least I wrote every bit of useful info about the situation, so I won't die without letting others know what happened.

I live alone, and it's bad. I became so paranoid about my surroundings that even little things make me jump.

Before any of this happened, he used to be the most harmless patient in the whole hospital, but now he can kill me at any time! This is what I get for ignoring the fact that he is a lost cause; for trying to save him. This isn't some lost teenager who was walking the wrong path in life, this is a real, cold-blooded murderer! And here I am, staring at what he's capable of.

His stable behavior was nothing more than an act! The moment I felt happy for his "recovery" was just me falling for his ruse. I don't know how to face him anymore. I don't know what will happen next. I truly hope that everything will be okay soon.

...

I just heard my house's door open.

......................

(Everything you just read was written in Dr. Elmer Christopher's notebook. In the drawer of his desk, there were some old newspaper articles attached to numerous other notes. He was already missing when the new house owner read the contents of the notebook and posted them online.)