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Location	Type	Date of concern	Time of concern
Maylands Coles - Caledonian Ave and Guildford Rd, Maylands WA 6051	Supermarket	25/01/2021	8.00 pm to 10.00 pm
*New* - Coles Express / Shell service station - corner Walcott St and, Fitzgerald St, North Perth	Petrol Station	25/01/2021	9.00 pm to 10.00 pm
Maylands Kentucky Fried Chicken - 209 Guildford Rd, Maylands WA 6051	Hospitality	27/01/2021	7.30 pm - 9.00 pm
Midland Mitsubishi Motors -161 Great Eastern Highway, Midland WA 6056	Car dealership	27/01/2021	7.00 pm to close
Morley Spudshed - Coventry Village, 243-253 Walter Rd W, Morley WA 6062	Supermarket	27/01/2021	10.00 pm - 11.00 pm
Perth Arena Convenience Store (Grab N Go) 3/69 Milligan Street, Perth WA 6000	Supermarket	27/01/2021	2.00 pm to 3.00 pm
Joondalup Edith Cowan University - 270 Joondalup Drive WA 6027 Building 31	University	28/01/2021	11.00 am to 2.00 pm
Perth VFS Global Indian Visa Services - L1, 195 Adelaide Tce, East Perth WA	Commercial	28/01/2021	12.30 pm to 3.00 pm
Cloverdale Halal Grocery Store - 8/224 Belmont Ave, Cloverdale WA 6105	Supermarket	28/01/2021	7.00 pm to 9.00 pm
Maylands Venus Ladies and Gentleman Hair Design - Maylands Park 238 Guilford Rd Maylands 6051	Hairdressers	29/01/2021	1.00 pm to 3.00 pm
Perth Perth Convention Centre - Perth WA 6000	Conference Centre	29/01/2021	4.00 pm to 6.00 pm
Nedlands Nedlands Family Practice - Broadway Fair Shopping Centre, 9/88 Broadway, Nedlands WA 6009	GP surgery	29/01/2021	5.00 pm to 6.00 pm
North Perth Chemist Warehouse - 412 Fitzgerald St, North Perth WA 6006	Pharmacy	29/01/2021	5.30 pm to 7.30 pm
Ascot 7-Eleven - 194 Great Eastern Hwy, Ascot WA	Petrol station	29/01/2021	8.00 pm to 9.00 pm
Maylands Coles - Caledonian Ave and Guildford Rd, Maylands WA 6051	Supermarket	29/01/2021	8.00 pm to 9.00pm
Belmont Genesis Gym - 1&2/199 Abernethy Rd, Belmont WA 6104	Gym	30/01/2021	9.30am to 12.00pm
Burswood Puma Service Station - 265 Great Easter Hwy, Burswood WA	Petrol station	30/01/2021	11.00 am to 12.00 pm
Cloverdale Coles Express/shell service station - Wright St &, Belmont Ave, Cloverdale WA 6105	Petrol station	30/01/2021	12.00 pm to 1.00 pm
Maylands Pharmacy 777 - Maylands Park Shopping Centre 3, 238 Guildford Rd, Maylands WA 6051	Pharmacy	30/01/2021	2.30 pm to 4.00 pm

It’s the inaugural season of the new Little Caesers Arena (LCA). Many pilgrims are making the trek to the new arena to watch the Detroit Red Wings play. This is my first version of this guide for first time visitors modeled after the one I put together for The Joe. I hope you find it helpful. Suggestions welcome!

Safety around the LCA as well as nearby Detroit city streets is very good. Detroit has a reputation of having high crime however in the 25 years I've been going to games in downtown Detroit I've never felt threatened for my safety. Immediately around and inside the LCA there are Detroit City and Michigan State Police as well as Olympia Security before, during, and after the game. The city streets around the LCA and out to the restaurants and hotels are walkable. But like in any modern city, keep your eyes and ears open and don't be stupid. Walk in groups. Stay (reasonably) sober. Don't go down the sketchy alley. Stay on the well-lit streets. Park in a guarded structure or lot not on a dark side street far away. Lock your car doors. Don't leave visible items inside the car. In other words don't be a victim. You'll be fine and you'll have a good time.
A guided tour of the LCA is available by scheduling in advance on specific dates. Check the LCA tours webpage for more information on prices and scheduling.
Tickets can be purchased through Ticketmaster, or at the LCA box office (if not already sold out), or through a reseller like Stubhub or even Ticketmaster's Ticket Exchange. Join the mailing list and check out the Red Wings social media for short notice deals like student and military rush ticket pricing and Fan Packs. Be advised the special offers are typically for low demand games like weekdays. Friday and Saturday games especially near holidays or against Canadian teams are high demand and typically not going to have special offers. These games will most likely not have cheap seats even on the reseller market. Ticket prices for the first season of the LCA have been higher than historically at the Joe.
Joe Louis Arena is still standing but no longer being used. The Joe is designated to be torn down but that date is currently not public. You can visit the Joe at 19 Steve Yzerman Dr, Detroit, MI 48226.
I personally do not have much experience with hotels in Detroit but I know people who have stayed at the Westin Book Cadillac and the nearby Ilitch-owned Motor City Casino which also has free shuttle to the LCA or an 8 block walk. MGM Casino is also nearby with a shuttle. On the cheaper side is the Holiday Inn Express next to the Westin Book Cadillac. Check out TripAdvisor Detroit for other hotel options.
With all of the new good food options I recommend checking out a restaurant inside the LCA. Sure the food is stadium prices but there are now three full restaurants located inside the arena as well multiple food stall vendors serving a variety of tastes. The free game day program at the LCA contains a map. I am partial to The Coop. If you want a complete Ilitch experience then get a slice or whole pie of Little Caesars pizza to go or sit down at Mike’s Pizza Bar. Outside the arena I also recommend somewhere iconic such as a coney from American or Lafayette (PROTIP: Lafayette). There are many good restaurants near the LCA and beyond. Check out the /detroit sidebar for more Detroit restaurant suggestions in and around the city. Popular spots include Hockeytown Cafe and flaming cheese in Greektown.
Harry’s Bar and Temple Bar are neighborhood bars that are within a 2 block walking distance to the LCA if you want to drink and hangout with fans before or after. The Chevy Plaza outside the southwest corner of the LCA has beer stands. The /detroit sidebar has more bar suggestions in and around the city. PROTIP: take the QLINE streetcar (US$1.50/3 hours) to the Canfield stop and quaff a few brews over crack fries at HopCat then take the QLINE south 2 stops (10 blocks) to the LCA stop at Sproat St. Be advised the northbound QLINE LCA stop is Adelaide St.
For convenience, park at the LCA VIP parking structure. It may be pricier (US$40 as of 2017-11-09) but it is a comfortable sheltered stroll to the LCA. If you are up for a short walk and would like to save a buck park at the MGM Casino or Motor City Casino for free. From there you can walk 8 blocks or take their free shuttle. The further away you park from the LCA the cheaper it is. There are several surface lots and structures nearby, some let you pay in advance. Some bars also have shuttles for free or a couple bucks. PROTIP: Nemo's has the best shuttle drivers. Regardless, remember where you parked, how you got to the LCA.
Coming from Canada? There is a Windsor tunnel bus US/CAN$5.00 each way from the bus terminal downtown Windsor (Chatham and Church) to Cass Ave. and the I-75 service drive next to the LCA. Getting through immigration takes a few minutes. Have your passport and don't be drunk. Check the link above for service times and details.
The LCA doors open 1.5 hours before game start. There are four sets of doors one at each corner. The Chevy Plaza at the southwest corner has a large screen that shows pre-game hype videos and on occasion the live game. There are also beebeverage stands in the plaza as well as picnic games (e.g. corn hole). You will have to pass through security to enter the Chevy Plaza but no ticket scan until you enter the arena doors.
You can sort of watch the players arrive by car (and visitors by bus) into the parking structure off Clifford north of the I-75 service drive.
The best photos of the LCA exterior are from the east side of Woodward just north of the westbound I-75 service drive looking at the building from the southeast corner. Photo
Will Call tickets at the box office located at the northeast corner of the arena off Woodward Ave.
There is a strict bag size policy enforced at the door. I’ve seen some upset people turned away at the doors. Know before you go.
You will have to go through a metal detector and may be subject to extra screening to enter the LCA.
Free WIFI is available inside as well as outside of the arena.
There are free programs inside the LCA at the entrances. Grab one because it has an arena map with section numbers and vendor locations. Sometimes there are interesting articles too.
There is souvenir shop called the Team Store in the southwest corner of the LCA. The authentic signed gear and memorabilia located in the east end of the store. There are also vendors scattered around the via and upper concourse selling souvenirs. PROTIP: the LCA prices are high for swag. Buy your gear ahead of time online or at Detroit Athletic in Detroit or Hockeytown Authentics up in Troy.
Friendly ushers are everywhere to help out and answer your questions. Most will take your photo for you if you ask politely.
There are local Detroit and Michigan craft beer vendors scattered around the arena priced at around US$10. Check the map in the free program for locations.
During warmups, fans congregate around the glass. Players come out at 30 minutes before game time for warmups. PROTIP: I recommend watching the Red Wings shoot at the net during warmups from behind the net on the glass in section 102/103. Hearing the puck smack the glass inches from your face is neat. Same for aisle for 115/116 on the visiting team side behind the net. The ushers will let you down to the ice level for warmups even if you don’t have tickets in that section.
The sea of banners is gone but the retired jerseys and Stanley Cup Championship banners remain. They are not the originals (those are hanging in the practice rink below the main rink) but are retractable. The banners share the ceiling with the Pistons banners on the other side. PROTIP: The best photo op for the Red Wing banners is in front of the Fox Sports Detroit broadcast desk at the top of section 219. Say hi to Keats for me.
There is a nice mix of old and new artwork in the LCA. Take some time before the game to walk around the lower and upper level concourses to see the manholes, the Howe/Lindsey/Delvecchio statues from the Joe, the original Olympia sign, murals of Red Wing greats. Look for the Red Wing logo at the northeast corner lower concourse made of auto parts. There are multiple selfie and photo spots too like the Red Wings bench and Little Caesars spear. The LCA is shared with the Detroit Pistons basketball team so you will see artwork and displays featuring their greats as well.
Every seat at the LCA has a great view of the ice. Some seats in the upper level (rows 6 and above between the red lines) have obstructed views of the center ice score board but there displays mounted behind the gondolas. The layout of the seats are steep and from the ice it looks like the stands are stacked on top of you. Sections, rows, and seats are on your ticket but navigation is based on portals. Check your ticket for your portal, go to that, then find your section/row/seat. Sit in your own seat. If you see seats that are still empty well into the first period then move to them. If someone asks you to move out of their seat just do it. Explore the arena to check out different seat views. PROTIP: go up to portals 78-82 to check out the vertigo inducing view down from the gondola.
Get to your seat 10 minutes before puck drop to see the pre-game on the huge scoreboard and on-ice projection.
The LCA now has a legit organ with in-house organists. They're pretty entertaining. Check it out the upper concourse behind section 301.
Don't be disrespectful during the national anthem(s). Just stand politely and shut up. Some visitors don't understand how disrespectful they can be. It's like 2 minutes, put the phone down.
Most Red Wings fans are friendly people and quite knowledgeable about their team and the sport. Strike up a conversation and you'll probably learn something new.
Cheer for your visiting team but don't be a dick about it.
DO NOT STAND UP OUT OF YOUR SEAT WHILE THE PUCK IS IN PLAY.
The LCA has a strict no smoking policy. There is no smoking area outside of any door. If you leave the LCA to smoke you will not be readmitted.
We know the goal horn recording sucks. We've already told the Red Wings organization about it. They know. They're working on it.
There are a lot of restrooms in the LCA. I haven’t see any long lines like the Joe had. Sadly(?) there are no urinal troughs in the men’s rooms.
Don't leave early! If the Red Wings win the DJ will play Don't Stop Believing in the final seconds or right after the game ends for you and thousands of your friends to sing along. The arena DJ plays music from multiple genres from Motown to country to pop and is known to take suggestions. He can be reached on Twitter @thehockeyjockey.
There is no public accessible spot for athlete autographs. The best opportunity for autographs is an event created for that purpose such as the Season Ticket Holder Open House, Fan Day Open House, or charity events like Toast of Hockeytown, Charity Poker Tournaments, as well as autograph signing events posted at https://www.facebook.com/DRWautographs/.
Post-game ride share pickups are along the I-75 service drive south of the LCA. Shuttles will pick you up where they dropped you off.
Have fun and enjoy the game!

Edit 1: typos and ride share info
Edit 2: photo spot location and photo

[HR] Diabolical

I.
Richard was working in a bar. He had found the job from a friend who said that he was leaving it for greener pastures, and like hand me down clothing he had assumed the role. The job was nothing special. Working as a barback for a cocktail bar. It involved preparation for the cocktail drinks and during service, he would restock the condiments and glassware to ensure that all of the bartenders could fulfil their duties. Essentially, it was a labouring role that paid minimum wage. The bartenders would all bark orders at him and he received little commendation for the work involved.
Currently the bar was not serving and they had the staff at the venue to do stocktake duties and a deep clean of the bar area. The back shelves of the bar were usually stocked with bottles of spirits. But seeing as they were giving everything a deep clean, the staff had taken down all of the bottles and Richard was given the task of wiping down the mirror glass surface that usually lay behind the bottles. It was difficult to understand why the mirrored glass needed such a deep clean. It wasn’t as if inspectors would look at the mirrored glass surface to determine the functionality of the bar. However, he was stuck with the job and because he was being paid, he did as he was ordered to. As he scrubbed and cleaned at the mirrored glass surface with a cloth and disinfectant, he could feel that the task was becoming more and more redundant. He felt that the bar manager was simply giving him orders so that he could establish some sort of superiority over him. After all, his bar manager had begun on the lowest rank in the hospitality industry just as he. So the bar manager presumed it was his right to give him obsolete tasks, just as another bar manager had once done to him when he was younger. It had its purpose, of course, everything has its purpose. The purpose of such orders was to instill an anal attitude to others in the cleanliness and upkeep of the bar. For the bar manager probably assumed that Richard, as he, would one day work through the ranks of the establishment.
But Richard did not feel the same way as he scrubbed at the glass mirrored surface with the cloth. Repeatedly and with force to ensure that there was not a smudge upon the surface. And upon completion of the task with much endurance and effort he proclaimed to his manager, “I’ve finished.”
The bar manager went up to inspect the surface of the mirrored glass, stating, “No, you haven’t.” The bar manager then went across inspecting the large mirror and pointing out points of fluff that had been left after Richard had applied the cloth to the surface.
And so Richard repeated the task of cleaning the glass mirrored surface once again. With the same piece of cloth and producing the same results.
Upon announcing the completion of his work, the bar manager once again inspected the surface and then in a fit of rage unleashed upon the unsuspecting Richard, “You stupid farkin’ idiot! You’ve done the same thing again. If you don’t do it properly, you won’t have a job tomorrow.”
Richard stood there and thought about it. He looked at the piece of cloth in his hand that he was using. The disinfectant substance that had been brought to its minimum capacity within the spray bottle. The irrationality of the task at hand worked itself into the understandings of his present situation. The futility of it all. The idea that every day he had to work underneath this arsehole. Doing as he commanded, just so he could ensure that he could afford the rent that kept a roof above his head. It was a job and that’s presumably what all jobs do. Taking advantage of people’s desperation, forcing them to act in a mode of servility.
As the anger seethed within Richard, little bubbles of sweat were released over his brow, as his face grew bright red. His blood had begun to boil. So he threw the near empty bottle of disinfectant at the bar manager’s head. The act didn’t exactly cause pain, but it gathered the bar manager’s attention who turned around surprised by the act. “Go fark yourself you arrogant cunt! You can shove the job up your arse!”
You could see the bar manager’s face. The slight twitches in his eyebrows and mouth as he acknowledged what was happening. And then like the eruption of a volcano, came the seething ball of pus and putrid words that flowed from his inner core, “You piece of shit! I’ve done everything that I could for you! You’re lucky that you have this job with all of the shit that I have to put up with! GET OUT!!!”
And so Richard cleaned out his locker and left the cocktail bar, not bothering to enquire about his final pay cheque. After that, Richard went home. His home was a room in a three bedroom apartment that he shared with two others in their twenties. Of them, only Fabian was home. He explained to Fabian what had happened and Fabian told him that he should call up the welfare services so he would be able to make next month’s rent. And so that’s what he did.
Richard jumped through the holes and over the hurdles of the great and grand bureaucracy that is the welfare system. In order to justify his existence to a system that was corrupt and lost all senses of human decency long ago. Standing in line with many others who had lost faith in the system and mankind many years ago. The lines of anger and vile bitterness that seethed when one was left with no other option but to grovel before bureaucrats in an effort to feed themselves.
For the rest of the time he looked up jobs on the internet, applying for them sparingly. He was in no rush to be spoon fed another pile of shit by people who had long ago formed themselves into groups of social cohesion. Oh, he was a necessary part of the group, no doubt. Without him, the group would not be able to function. Every group required that individual who they could shovel shit on and kick down at. Without that person who was being constantly replaced, well, without that person the group would cease to function and cease to be. And so Richard thought about it all. The predestination of being that person. The eternal newcomer. It would often result in a spiral of depression that eventuated into an act of suicide that held no ties to the group, so that the group would not be affected. That was the eventual path that that course of action led to. And there was always a new generation to step into the old shoes of the eternal newcomer. The great and grand design. The churning gears of the system that left a mountain of skulls in their wake. If people were happy with their jobs and that sort of behaviour didn’t exist, then never would there be a need to advertise for another job.
Richard lay in bed, smoking a cigarette and stared up at the ceiling, listening to music. He found himself daydreaming about the futility of his situation. Trying to think up a way out of the constant state of entrapment that was destined to play itself out during different work roles throughout the course of his life. Was there such a thing as a way out of this predestined destiny of doom? A door? A window? A mouse hole?
That was when Fabian knocked on the door of his bedroom, “Hey Richard. Richard? Are you in there?”
“Yeah,” Richard replied, bringing himself to his feet and then opening the door to his bedroom to greet Fabian.
“There’s a party tonight in Brunswick. I know you’ve been down lately, I’ll buy you a six pack if you come with me.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Richard replied that he would. He had a shower, the first time in days. What was the point otherwise? With no place to be. He used a new bar of soap to scrub at the crevice between his arse-crack. It resulted in a brown sewerage mixture and he watched the brown liquid diluted by water follow its pathway down the drain. Of course he had wiped his arse with toilet paper. But after a week’s build up of dirt, sweat and grime had gathered all over his body. It wasn’t that he was layered with dirt, it was simply the area where this sort of residue built up.
After a shower and a clean set of clothes, he was ready to venture off and into the night. And so the two of them ventured off into the night, drinks in hand, to navigate the Melbourne metropolitan public transport system. Among their fellow passengers were other individuals, already intoxicated from pre-drinks taken at home. Most of them were teenagers or other twenty somethings. Most of them would still be living at home, not having to spend money on rent or bills, they had money to spend. People with family connections that were assured job security that lay in judgment of shitkickers like Richard and Fabian.
Fabian was alright. He worked cleaning and janitorial jobs. His voiced opinion on the subject of work was, ‘It’s all shit when you have to wipe off shit stains from the toilets. But at least you get honest people when there’s no prestige involved in the work.’
The train carriage smelt like vomit and as people exited at the main stops, Richard and Fabian saw why. A group of the nightclubbers had left one of their friends passed out on the train, lying in his own vomit. A couple of ticket inspectors boarded the train and awoke him from a semi-comatose state. The man, the boy, mumbled something non-descript. The two ticket inspectors picked him off the ground and with one of them under each arm, took him outside at the next stop to do god only knows what.
The two of them got off the train shortly after that. They followed different tram routes that were equally packed with night rabble and arrived at their destination. Fabian had made some attempt to explain to Richard that he couldn’t just sit on welfare and despite his apprehension of picking up another job, he would have to submit eventually. Richard batted off the line of questioning and they both decided to enjoy themselves for the night, putting all other obligations aside momentarily.
They arrived at the house party and began to mingle. Richard took a seat in the backyard, rolling himself cigarettes and opening up the six pack of beers. Fabian preferred to venture indoors and danced with the young ladies who were all listening to music that was playing on a hi-fi system. The choice in music wasn’t that bad: a mix of electronic music; old school hip-hop; and pop tunes from the eighties.
Richard kept on smoking cigarettes and drinking beer as other strays took their seats beside him, outside in the backyard to smoke cigarettes and get down to idle conversation. Among those that took their seats beside him were various artists, a lawyer that worked for some unmentioned government department, and some computer programmer working for a corporation. It was difficult to know what to say when surrounded by such a varied group. So they all focused in upon their addictions. Drugs, sex, cigarettes, alcohol… All of them had confronted some sort of substance abuse problem along the journey of life. And when they had finished with those types of conversations they focused in upon the different artists. Their dreams and ambitions. Among the booze, their work took precedence as it was all inconsequential to the larger picture. Despite what political or other motivations prompted them to create their work. There were so many problems in the world that it was difficult to ascertain the implications of taking strong political stances. And so everyone agreed, taking up the different artists political stances without consideration of real world consequences and knowing that tomorrow they would return to their lives without any real effort given to the various causes.
After a while the conversation tired. Richard was four beers down and had started to rummage through the stockpile of different implements that lay in the backyard. Among such novelty items was a unicycle. Upon its discovery, Richard picked it out and made a great speech about the miscellaneous object, “A unicycle! For the love of God, who owns a unicycle?”
“A performer of sorts, I guess.” One of the others replied.
“Give it a try!” Another called out.
And so that’s what Richard did. And with minimal effort and incredible balance, he took naturally to the thing. Riding around in circles as they all cheered him on and gave him minor applause. After a while he grew tired of the act and took a seat as the others set their attempts to ride the unicycle. None of the others had much success, to which they all commented upon Richard’s natural talent.
The comments led Richard to form an idea. Or at least the beginnings of an idea. And when the night came to an end, he asked the owner of the house what they were planning to do with the unicycle. To which they replied, “I don’t know. I picked it up at a garage sale planning to learn to ride the thing, but never got around to it. I’m working full-time now, you can have it if you want it.”
To which Richard accepted and both Richard and Fabian returned home, with the addition of a unicycle.
II.
The next day Richard, having no other obligations, went to the local park to practice on the unicycle. He first mastered his balance on the vehicle in the proper motion. Then he reversed that motion and learnt how to ride the thing backwards, in loops and controlling his distance and speed. He spent days on end riding the thing around in parking lots, learning how to jump around on the thing and maintain balance while remaining semi-stationary.
He fulfilled his job seeker obligations. Making sure that he applied for his twenty jobs every month and attending his appointments with work placement agencies. Every time he went to one of those appointments a small piece of him died on the inside. The place seemed to be full of people with broken spirits and he supposed that he, himself, was one of them too. But all of the people there were disgusted with one another. The place maintained a semblance of order by the psychological trap of individuality. At one point or another all of these people held down a job. And so as each individual looked around, they did not bother to converse with one another, they all saw their own situation as unique. They all saw themselves as unique and they all maintained hope that they would find a job soon enough. But the truth was there was no counter counting down the time until they received their next opportunity. They could get a job any time between a day from now or they could be waiting twenty years. People preferred not to speak with one another in such venues, they were all disgusted with one another, everyone holding their own self-entitled pride. And Richard was no different. He looked around at the people waiting and presumed their sin of sloth.
He sat down with the consultant and answered their questions. With each question the consultant would navigate through the systems on their computer and click the appropriate buttons to determine if he had met his obligations as a job seeker.
And once that was completed Richard would return to the practice of riding his unicycle in various parking lots around the neighbourhood. One day Fabian joined him. Fabian came with a couple of longneck beers in hand to witness Richard’s improved skill. He sat on the parking lot curb, drinking his beers and commenting on Richard’s mastery of the unicycle, “Damn man! I can’t even ride one of those things, but you can do all sorts of shit on it, can’t ya’?”
“Yeah, I was thinking,” Richard conversed as he rode backwards and forwards, “I was thinking that I could start putting on shows for the public.”
“You mean busking?”
“Yeah, busking. Think about it. I wouldn’t have any boss that I would have to report to. I wouldn’t have to deal with those bureaucrats at Centrelink. I’d treat it like a job, buskers can make good money if they offer something unique.” Richard remained semi-stationary and did a couple of jumps on the unicycle.
“Yeah, but just riding a unicycle isn’t going to do it. You’d have to offer the crowd something special.”
Richard got off the unicycle to join Fabian on the parking lot curb, “What do you mean?”
“You’d have to do something with your hands. Like spinning a walking cane around or something, I dunno…”
Richard and Fabian drank beers until the sun went down. Fabian had a lot of venting to do about his work and Richard listened peacefully. In their own ways they had both been working full days. Putting in the time and effort so that they could relax and rest easy, knowing that they had achieved something for the day.
The next day Richard went shopping for clothes. Lacking any suitable funding to go out to the commercial shops, he browsed through opportunity shops and looked around for second hand clothing that was still suitable to wear. In amongst the different clothes and items of a miscellaneous nature, he found himself a bowler hat. Looking at the thing gave him an idea. It had a price tag attached to it that marked it on sale for ten dollars. It was of good quality and he did not complain, he bought the hat along with a few articles of clothing and then went back to his practice of the unicycle.
This time he added the bowler hat into his routine. He started off by throwing the hat up in the air and catching it with the other hand while maintaining balance on the unicycle. It was difficult at first, but over time and practice the action became more fluid. After he had mastered simple actions, he began practicing more complex tasks. Like throwing the bowler hat a great distance up in the air and manoeuvring himself and the unicycle so that the hat would land on his head. He tried and failed that trick many times before he had any success. But over time he managed to achieve the results he desired. And shortly after that he was doing all sorts of complex and intricate things.
After a couple of months of practice Fabian once again came to witness the skills that Richard had accumulated. He sat there with a longneck beer as he had done before. This time Richard was riding on the unicycle, throwing the hat up in the air, spinning the hat on his fingers, catching the hat in his teeth and jumping up and down on the unicycle in a reverse motion.
Fabian was bewildered, “Holy shit man! Yeah, I’d pay to see that. You’re god damned diabolical on that thing!”
“Diabolical, hey?” Richard said, while raising an eyebrow. “I like the sound of that. I think I’ll use that as my stage name.” Richard threw the hat up in the air and jumped on the unicycle in a three-hundred and sixty degree motion, “You may call me, ‘Diabolical’.”
Fabian offered Richard a beer and they both sat and witnessed the sun set in the park. Toasting to Richard’s success and newfound vocation.
The next Friday Richard travelled into the city to perform along Southbank, outside the casino in Melbourne. He carried with him a piece of chalk. He was dressed in a white shirt, black pants, with a black bow-tie, and stars drawn in black make-up around his eyes. With a series of onlookers, he drew out a circle on the pavement and announced to his audience, “Ladies and gentlemen, what you are about to witness can be described in no other way but ‘diabolical’.”
After the brief introduction Richard mounted the unicycle and started riding around inside the perimeter of the chalk circle that he had drawn up on the pavement. After that, he started travelling backwards in the same motion with his bowler hat affixed to his head. He was just laying out the territory, ensuring that the audience gave him space. After the audience acknowledged this, he started jumping up and down on the unicycle in a backwards motion. Then he moved forwards again and threw the bowler hat up in the air and caught it with the other hand. Then he laid his arms out like a seesaw and began rolling the hat up and down the length of his arms as he maintained balance on the unicycle. He began to gather quite a crowd at this point and his hat tricks and motions on the unicycle increased in complexity. He continued to perform until his grand finale where he rode the unicycle backwards, threw the hat up in the air, jumped up in the air on the unicycle, perform a three hundred and sixty degree twist and catching the bowler hat on his head. He then dismounted from the unicycle to the sound of great applause from the audience who had gathered around him. He then walked around the circle that had been lined up in chalk and held the bowler hat out as his audience deposited their donations to his act.
After this he took a half an hour break. He counted the money that he had earned. All up, he had received sixty dollars. Sixty dollars for a half hour routine wasn’t bad, Richard thought. He waited around for another half an hour. Buying himself a bottle of water, smoking some cigarettes and then returned to the circle laid out in chalk and repeated the half an hour act to a different audience of passers-by.
He repeated the act until the stroke of midnight and then caught the last train home. All up, he had earned two hundred and eighty dollars. It wasn’t bad for a single night’s work. Hell, it was bloody fantastic!
For the next week he went to the same area and repeated the routine. Some days were better than others, but each day was certainly worth the trip into town. Sometimes he would perform by daylight, other times he would perform at night. And he was slowly gathering a small fortune while doing so. Richard thought about the good fortune he had come across ever since leaving the bar job. The time and effort he had placed into creating and maintaining his act. It had all been worth it.
But he began to notice something. The more he performed. The less takings he would receive. The crowd was growing weary of the act, despite how fantastic it was.
Then came the day that would end his series of performances in Melbourne. It was during the day and he had gathered a crowd of small children who were looking at the man on the unicycle performing his routine. Then a child, a small girl with ribbons done in her hair in a pigtail fashion, went running into the circle drawn up in chalk. At that point Richard was balancing the hat in a see-saw motion up along the length of his arms. When he saw the child, he lost all control of the unicycle and veered off to the side, collapsing in a heap. Enraged by the incident, Richard lost his temper at the small child and began yelling at her, “You little shit! You fucked up my entire routine!”
The reaction came as an automatic reaction that Richard had felt in the pain of his fall. The girl paused for a second in silence and then Richard could see the tears well up in her eyes. He held up his hands, trying to stop her from the tears. But the tears came, as did the screams, “Mummy! Mummmmmmy!!!”
The audience that had gathered around Richard then began to call out in disgust at Richard’s behaviour. To which there was nothing Richard could do to take back the action. A large, muscular man approached Richard. Grabbing his arm and twisting it behind Richard’s back in what was a painful action, yelling at him, “Apologise to the young girl, ya’ bastard!”
To which Richard squeaked out, “I’m sorry…” in the most pathetic way imaginable, with tears of pain running down his cheeks, making his make-up run.
The little girl stopped crying and started laughing at Richard. The muscular man released Richard from his grip and then pushed him to the ground. The man took Richard’s takings for the day and gave it to the little girl and her mother.
The crowd dispersed, leaving Richard there broken and bruised, realizing that he could never perform in Melbourne again.
III.
Richard returned home that day in hysterics. He kept on yelling and ranting about how he had had enough of this shithole city and that he was moving away to greener pastures. Try as Fabian might to calm him down, he could do nothing to settle his temper. Richard packed up some of his belongings in a suitcase. A few changes of clothes, some of his essential belongings and then went out to Fabian to ask him a favour.
“Hey man,” they were both sitting down at the kitchen table, “if I pay you a month’s rent in advance, will you be able to clear up the rest of my shit. Sell my stuff. Do with it what you need to.”
“Yeah, man, sure.” Fabian looked at Richard, “What happened? Anything serious? Are you okay?”
“It was just farked man! Absolutely farked! I was basically humiliated in front of the whole city. I hate this farkin’ city! I farkin’ hate it!”
“Calm down, just tell me what happened and we can sort it all out.”
But Richard didn’t stick around to bother explaining everything to Fabian. He paid him the one month’s rent in advance. Grabbed his suitcase, the unicycle, everything else that he needed and took the next train into the city. On the train journey into the city, he plotted out his route via his phone. He planned to stop over in Geelong before heading west out towards Perth. He would stop along the road, stopping off at various points like Adelaide and all of the smaller rural towns inbetween. Performing his act and fueling his journey with any money he could. That was the plan.
Hitting the open road, with no responsibilities. He’d pick up a car somewhere along the way, but for now he was appeased with taking the train. He booked a bed to stay in a backpackers in Geelong. A pub called Irish Murphys’ that existed just outside of the central business district of the city. He booked it for a series of three nights, believing that he could perform in the city centre for the next two days before continuing on his journey out west.
The train from Melbourne to Geelong was only an hour’s journey and he soon found himself exiting the train. From there he caught a bus to the backpackers where he made camp for the night. He kept to himself and made sure that his belongings were locked up inside his room. There weren’t many other tourists in the place. There were a couple of middle aged Chinese women who were sharing a room. He ran into them in the kitchen while they were preparing themselves a meal. Some noodles mixed with fried chicken strips and some vegetables. They piled the soy sauce into the saucepan as they cooked the noodles, adding a teaspoon of fish sauce and other spices that were acquainted to their tastes. He attempted to make conversation with them, but they were largely lacking fluency in the English dialect. They looked at him in confusion as he attempted to make conversation. Feeling that his words would not be heard, he went downstairs and purchased a bottle of cheap red wine. He offered them each a glass, to which they refused. They retired to their rooms and he retired to his. He ended up drinking the full bottle of wine and falling asleep in a half-drunk state.
He woke up in the morning at about a quarter past ten. He felt like he had eaten the cork of the wine bottle and the cork was being digested slowly in his stomach, floating in his stomach acids, producing this queasy feeling that was akin to seasickness. He went downstairs. The bar staff were busy preparing the venue for service later that day, so he went next door to the tuck shop and bought himself a sandwich. One of those greasy bacon and egg ones, with the paper wrapping around it that had become transparent because of all the grease dripping off of the bacon. He ate it and bought himself a bottle of lemon soda to wash it all down. It calmed his stomach and the queasy feeling soon disappeared.
After a couple of hours sitting and watching cable television in the lounge room drinking glasses of water, he pulled himself together and prepared to make his grand debut on the city streets of Geelong. He dressed himself up in usual attire and applied the make-up to his eyes. White collared shirt, black bow-tie and black pants. Accompanied, of course, with the bowler hat. He caught the bus into the city. He couldn’t really find any performance space. There weren’t any other buskers and he spied that a group of homeless people had set up some form of encampment outside of the mall. He went into little Malop street where he decided there was enough space where he could perform his act. People walking past him looked at him oddly, not understanding what he intended to do.
He drew up a circle with a piece of white chalk that he kept in his pocket and once more mounted his unicycle. Some people stopped and called out to him, “Hey, what the hell are you trying to do?”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he called out, raising his voice so that anybody within a fifty meter radius could hear him, “I am the great and glorious ‘Diabolical’ and what I am about to do here today is absolutely diabolical! If you all wish to witness the events with your own eyes, you will not be displeased!” A few people stopped and began watching Richard as he rode the unicycle around in circles. Then backwards in circles.
There was not much of a crowd, but what he didn’t expect was for the encampment of homeless people to come and watch him. There was a small group of them, about five in all came to witness him as the others remained with their makeshift setup of sleeping bags and miscellaneous items. The leader of the group appeared to be a stout Mexican man. The Mexican man was roughly shaven and smoked a cigarette. He wore gloves with the fingers cut off and a dirty grey torn jacket, with cotton coming out of the tears in the material. He began speaking English with a rough accent, “This motherfucker says he’s ‘diabolical’, that’s my name! You ain’t taking my name now are ya’?” Richard ignored the homeless man as he continued on with his routine. Balancing his hat along his arms like a see-saw. “Now I know you wouldn’t be doing that? Taking my name ya’ faggot!” The berating comments began to get on Richard’s nerves. But he held his peace and continued on with the act. “Ya’ piece of shit! I’m ‘Diabolical’, that’s my name!” Other people began to leave the crowd that had gathered around Richard, scared off by the homeless man. And pretty soon the homeless man was yelling at him, “That’s my name! That’s my name! That’s my name!” Over and over again without pause. After all of the potential paying audience had dispersed, frightened by the constant heckling by the homeless man, Richard got off of the unicycle and ceased his act.
He looked at the homeless man and his fellow cohorts, he wasn’t that tall and he was sure that he would be able to at least outrun them on the unicycle if they went to attack him. So Richard began yelling at him, “You worthless piece of shit! You just scared them all off! Fark you and fark this town!”
The homeless Mexican man stood there and didn’t say anything. Instead he flicked the cigarette that he had been smoking towards Richard. The cigarette fell at Richard’s feet. The homeless man didn’t say anything after that, he just kept on staring at Richard. The other homeless people that had come with him lost interest and all walked back towards their encampment. But the Mexican homeless man, he just kept on standing there, staring at Richard without saying a word.
After a while it began to creep Richard out, so Richard decided to walk back to the backpackers. Not looking back to see if he was being followed. When he reached the pub that doubled as a backpackers, he looked back behind him to see if he was being followed. He felt relieved when he found that the homeless man was nowhere in sight. So he entered the pub and ordered himself a drink.
It started off with one pint. A pint of Carlton draught because it was the cheapest drink that he could afford. He would sit and listen to the music. They had live musicians who were performing classic and well-known rock songs. He would sit there alone and listen to songs, ordering pint after pint. Between intervals of the songs he would go outside and have a cigarette. Toking on cigarettes and talking to strangers. They’d offer him tidbits and information on a variety of different subjects. Nothing that mattered to him. He did take an interest in the story concerning how the homeless had all migrated from the larger capital city of Melbourne to Geelong. The police restrictions, they had explained, were less strict than they were in Melbourne. For some reason they seemed to get away with sleeping outside of the mall in the central business district. Richard listened attentively, nodding his head as he did so. Then went back into the bar and continued ordering pints of Carlton draught.
Eventually he ran out of cigarettes and half cut, he asked the bartender where he could buy cigarettes. The bartender replied that there was a supermarket up down the road, about a kilometre. So he finished what remained of his current pint, placed his bowler hat on his head and went off to find the supermarket.
He had been walking for about five minutes when it happened. An unknown assailant surprised him from behind and covered his face with a cloth covered in chloroform. He lost consciousness almost immediately.
When he awoke, he was tied by the wrists and ankles, placed upon a wooden table in some unknown park. He struggled against the bonds, but they were affixed to his limbs tightly. He called out into the night, “Hello! What’s happening!? What’s happening!?!”
From out of the shadows appeared the Mexican homeless man. The same one who had caused a disturbance in his performance earlier that day. “Y’know, I wasn’t lying.”
Richard struggled more intensely against his bonds, but it was of no use, “What the fark are you doing you psycho!? Release me at once. I demand that you release me!”
“That’s not going to help you homie. There ain’t no turning back from this shit now. It’s just me and you, alone here in the park. And nobody else around to hear ya’.”
“Didn’t you hear me!? Let me go!” Richard called out, “Help! Heellp!”
“I wasn’t lying when I said my name is ‘Diabolical’. Except the reason that I had that name was probably different from the reason why you had that name.”
“Help! Heeelp!!!” Richard screamed out into the night without any reply.
Diabolical produced a small knife. It was curved at the end of the blade. He then leaned forward and pressed it up against Richard’s neck. “I said shut the fuck up!” After that Diabolical wrapped a bandana around the mouth of Richard. Tying it around his mouth to act as a gag so that he couldn’t make any more noise. Any more noise that Richard attempted to make was inaudible. “As I was saying. I too am known by the name ‘Diabolical’. I received that name many years ago in my native country. I was a small child, perhaps eleven or twelve years old. I came from a very poor family and was being constantly bullied at school. So much so that for the large part I refused to attend. Instead, I would run around the neighbourhood, stealing food and different things in an effort to entertain myself. There was a group of us. I considered us all friends. Until one day, those friends turned against me and I was ousted from that group. In an act of revenge I kidnapped their dog. I tied that dog up much like I have you tied up here and now. And with that dog I skinned him alive. Back then, I wasn’t very good at it and made a mess of things. But I completed the job and displayed the pet before my old friends. No doubt, they were upset and probably would have killed me. If it weren’t for a man dressed in an all-white suit. He saw what I had done and then shot a pistol to scare off the other kids, my former friends. After that the man took me in and said that he could use someone like me. So he gave me other animals to skin. Feral cats from the neighbourhood, things like that. I got so good at it, that that man gave me the name ‘Diabolical’ in reference to my diabolical skill.” That was when Diabolical approached Richard, tied up to the table and unable to voice any sound of protest, with the knife. He began by cutting open his clothes. Leaving him naked in the cold night. Then after that made incisions up and down the length of his limbs. They were made lengthways, up the length of Richard’s arms and legs. He attempted to scream out in pain. But could not. “That man turned out to be a major drug lord in the city and used me. Allowing me to torture his captured enemies. Skinning them and presenting their carcasses to their family and loved ones. You could be sure that nobody crossed that man.” Diabolical made another incision, identical to the last, down the lengthways of the limbs. Running parallel to the other incision, perhaps three centimetres apart. “I was treated well. With luxury and everything else that I could ask for. This went on for years.” With the parallel incisions, he placed the knife underneath and began to peel the strip of skin off Richard’s body. Richard attempted to howl and struggle against the bonds, but there wasn’t anything he could do. “Until one day, that man asked me to skin someone who I didn’t want to skin. She was a lover. One of many, but a lover still the same.” After the strips of skin had been peeled, Diabolical had an opening to the rest of the skin that covered Richard’s body. From there he could go about the process like peeling an orange. Placing the knife under the skin and peeling off the rest of the layer. “I turned on the old man. The one who had taken me in and skinned him instead. But that man was powerful and once my betrayal was known, I had to leave the country. Somewhere where I couldn’t be found. So I thought, ‘Australia’, I mean, why not, right?”
For the rest of the operation Diabolical remained focused on the process. Skinning the man alive and ensuring that everything was done to the utmost level of skill. After everything had been done and Richard’s whole body was skinned, Diabolical would tie him and string him up to a nearby gum tree. Singing to himself as he did so, “Give me a home amongst the gum trees. With lots of plum trees. A sheep or two, a kangaroo. A clothesline out the back. Verandah out the front.” All in a heavy Mexican accent. “And an old rockin’ chair.”
Richard’s body would be discovered the next morning. By early morning joggers through the park, with his body strung up a gum tree, hung like a fisherman showing off his catch, by the legs. With his bowler hat strategically placed beneath him.
As the blood dripped from his skinned carcass, dripping into the bowler hat in a little pool.

Slaughter Theatre

Listen, mate. Something is rotten in the State of Victoria, Australia.
From the muddy banks of the Yarra, up and beyond Sydney Road, to the Dandenong mountain ranges….down to the borders of Port Phillip Bay where the fibreglass Luna Park clown, old Mr Moon, grins contemptuously over the brothels and slums of St Kilda. Fuck me sideways. Pernicious humidity followed by a spell of rain, and a sky perpetually overcast with moral decay. Something is wrong, and it rhymes with girder.
Yeah, see....in St Kilda, in July of 2017 a dead body was found in the Triangle construction Site near the Bay, adjacent to where the Palais theatre once stood —before it burnt to cinders. Body had also been burnt, and was unidentifiable, charcoaled as it was. Funnily enough...Nobody seems to know who is to blame. As daily race riots and brawls break out on St Kilda streets, and the cops impose tougher alcohol restrictions, this gaping wound remains untended.
J D Williams and the three Phillips brothers from Seattle had their part;— left their American legacy in Australia, no doubt about it— the Coney Island style theme park of vices, a carnival of underground crimes which led to that precise moment —a swamp of intertwined histories beyond my capabilities to research thoroughly or summarise accurately. Nevertheless, I swear to you old chum, like a moth to a flame, I was drawn into the tangled investigation of that mangled female corpse near Luna Park,... an investigation which would near drive me insane.
My name is Pharlap Dronefire, a Private Investigator based in South Yarra.
I’m not normally inclined to investigate murder cases, but this particular private client had a list of seemingly unrelated things he wanted me to research, the St Kilda murder being just one of them. As I didn’t have access myself to the police files, I resolved to meet up with my police contact, Andrew Barrington, and get the facts surrounding the case.
Officer Barrington consented to meet at Luigi’s; a video game themed bar on Acland Street. It was a hot Saturday, and the St Kilda crowds were wild and varied; thousands of English, Irish and American tourists flocked to the beach, whilst teenagers vomited on the rickety roller-coasters of the seaside theme Park. The scenes were impressionistic, with Bosch-like crowds, bollards lined with palm trees. Myriad junkies asked for change and cigarettes of passers by— on the street, whilst bips and boops sang out from customers playing the vintage arcade machines behind me.
I sat at the outside tables, drunks brushed by me on the cramped and cracked sidewalk, car pollution and smog slept thinly at knee level over the scene, as the green and orange blur of a passing tram flashed by.
I saw officer Barrington approaching from a distance and waved as he crossed the road, shortly he sat down at the table and we ordered two Pale Ales.
‘Thanks for comin’ Bazza’ I said with genuine appreciation. Barrington scratched his face, and muttered a kind of ‘no wukkers ’ through his chin.....he seemed to have a lot on his mind. ‘So what have you got on this St Kilda killing?’ I asked directly, ‘There’s almost nothing online about it, barely made a dent in the press.’ ‘Jesus Pharlap.’ Barrington sighed, ‘Haven’t you got anything better to do than dig up old corpses?’ ‘You know me Baz—’ I said, ‘I’m determined to end up a chalk outline myself. But this corpse is still pretty fresh i’d say. Why are the cops choking on this chicken anyway? What’s the unseen bone?’ ‘Look…’ Officer Barrington sighed, as our beers arrived and I took a big swig of lager; ‘The murder made the papers when it happened, toured the news for a week or so...but because the body has never been identified there hasn’t been much for the press to chew on. There’s no suspects, no motive or cause. We’ve only been barely able to piece together what actually happened.’ Barrington took a sip of beer, as I jotted down some notes. The officer looked down at my ex—left-hand for a moment, noticing the bandaged stub from the accident that had happened to me recently. ‘What happened to your hand?’ He asked. ‘My own bones have been chewed…You and I...’ I replied, ‘....Work in a dangerous line of work.....sometimes the danger of your profession leaks over to mine in unexpected ways ....probably best leave it at that. So what exactly DO the police know about this barbecued girl?’.
I noticed an extraordinary amount of discomfort in Barrington’s face as he discussed the girl. Being partially involved in the murder investigation, it seemed to have particularly disturbed him. He struggled uncomfortably in his seat, Barrington was a large muscular man with thick, black-rimmed glasses and layered, thin hair. His eyes seemed permanently tinged with paranoia.
‘Officially?’ Barrington replied nervously, ‘Nothing...... But unofficially....’ ‘You’ve got your own theories about who did this, don’t you?’ I asked making my own deductions. Bazza sighed and massaged the back of his neck; ‘Look’ he said, ‘Whatever I tell you here is completely off the record. You understand?’ I made an affirmative gesture.
‘You know well— I’ve been investigating various unsolved gangland killings for a long time.’ Said Officer Barrington, ‘We’ve discussed previously my unofficial research and interests.’ I nodded, motioning him to continue. ‘Well. Hexton Police Station is full of officer’s hunches. We’ve always known of these criminal families running things, and what not, but sometimes you don’t have the evidence to put the bastards away. This case goes back years....’
Another tram chimed past in the street as Bazza continued his story; ‘There was the Walsh Street Massacre in 1988; that set a wave of anxiety through the ranks. You’ve head of it?’ ‘Sounds familiar. That’s what ‘Animal Kingdom’ was about, right?’ I said. ‘Right. Before Howard took the guns away, you had the crime families, bank robbers, strings of crimes done with sawn-off shotguns in broader Hexton. Cops shot Greame Jensen, and Victor Pierce promised two cops would die in revenge attacks. After those two young coppers were murdered in Walsh Street, the cops fought back. Executed a bunch of the gang leaders. Then there were the trials of the Walsh Street killers, that bitch Wendy Pierce didn’t testify. Half the buggers never done time. I was trying to nail Peter McEvoy for a long time in the nineties. He moved up to NSW after he was freed.’ I furiously recorded notes as the officer spoke.
‘After the gangland killings of the nineties, and the Purana task force, it took years to catch up on who was doing what. Well that’s when I really went down a rabbit hole in my research. Started trailing these rich crime families who’d been running tricks over the NSW/Victorian border for over a century unchecked. I’m not talking about Gangitano, Gatto or the Manillas. Used to be all the crime was comin’ in from the docks, you know? The Painter and Dockers union, that’s where Victor Pierce worked, the Walsh Street murderer, the Moran family and the Carlton Crew, they were all running drugs through Port Melbourne. The Calabrian mafia, AKA the honoured society, the Ndrangheta—now they also got their claws into Australian society way back then too, they come down from Queensland, had their racketeering going through the fruit and vegetable markets. Everyone remembers the key events— Frank Benvenuto was killed in 2000, but even without their leader the ’Ndrangheta was obviously still operating —because in 2008 the cops seized 15 million ecstacy pills hidden in tomato cans from Calabria. Now, Frank Benvenuto rang Victor Peirce the day he died. You want my opinion— That’s because the thugs that organised Walsh Street, weren’t just acting on some petty revenge motive. The whole thing was planned from higher up, maybe Frank was fronting up to Peirce before he was shot, and maybe Peirce knew too much when he was blown away in 2002. You catch my drift?’
‘’Im trying my best to follow—’ I replied, still anxiously scribbling notes.
‘Keep up mate… Anyway listen, after the terrorist attacks on September 11, people have been too hung up on Islamic extremism to pay attention to what’s really happening with the Mafia and these other organisations, these crime families. Now there was way more knowledge of this in the police force, the internal corruption was proven to go right to the top….in the end — we know the Wood Royal Commission only really exposed the affairs of the Kings Cross Police in Sydney, barely scratched the surface of mafia interception and corruption within the government. Yeah, they brought in some regulations, hell… even that snake Roger Rogerson got done eventually,…the Labour party dealing with Mokbel was partially revealed… but all the while, secret meetings of the same groups were happening; members of corporations, corrupt police, board members, Australian politicians. I was still trailing them, I had addresses of mansions where these figures lived and hung out. Just waiting to catch a lucky break. This wasn’t just a few career criminals. It was like an underground cult.’
I polished off my beer and motioned with my hand to the waitress to bring out another one. ‘So you think this St Kilda killing was perpetrated by these underground crime families?’ I asked intrigued.
Bazza grew more paranoid still, almost sweating and glancing about him as if he was afraid of being watched. ‘There’s this urban legend among ...those interested in crime ....in this city. Have you ever heard of the the ‘Slaughter Theatre’ trilogy?’ ‘The what?’ I asked cluelessly. Barrington seemed peculiarly begrudging to keep telling me information about what he knew, nonetheless he obligingly indulged me;
‘Back in the days of Walsh Street there were rumours of these VHS tapes existing, you know?… It was rumoured that Peter McEvoy, Victor Pierce and other murderers involved in the police killings— used to film their crimes. Snuff videos —which would prove their identities in various murders —nail the Walsh Street killers, and hundreds of other crime figures….. these VHS were alleged to have been seen by multiple witnesses. The stickers on the old video tapes were supposed to be labelled ‘Slaughter Theatre’ in red permanent marker, creepy handwriting. That’s what all the legends say anyway. I know officers who claim to have seen some of this footage. I’m talking sadistic brutal shit. You remember Dennis Allen?’ ‘Sure’ I said. ‘Mr Death they used to call him, well— there’s apparently a snuff video of Allen cutting up one of his biker adversaries with a chainsaw, he’s covered in blood, films the whole thing as he approaches a bunch of slaughterhouse workers in their white gear. They’re all covered in blood and laughing their asses off, saying ‘What floor you working’ on then Dennis?’. Another guy I know claims he’s seen these tapes, proof of all kinds of things we just suspected… Mad Charlie being massacred at his home in Caulfield. Girls being raped and tortured and mutilated. One of the pieces of footage is allegedly of a group of about 30 members of the Comanchero Motorcycle club, and they’re standing around with a group of these government guys in suits, who pay them a bunch of money, then what follows is a sadistic orgy which ends in bloodshed and bizarre ritual.’
I sweated, my hand starting to cramp from the overload of information. I held my hand up for a moment, indicating Bazza to give me a second to catch up. Finally, after a deep breath, and massaging my wrist, I waved; ‘Go on’. Barrington continued;
‘In the nineties and noughties —more rumours popped up about these secret videos. Apparently rich perverts we’re paying criminals for these snuff films, this Slaughter Theatre….. some of them were even getting top notch production values with members of the Melbourne creative industry being involved. At least that’s how the rumours go. The legends are constantly embellished. In the 90’s it was burnt DVD’s which the files were allegedly being copied to. Press dubbed it ‘Slaughter Theatre part Two’. Then downloaded files, and well, you can imagine how the rumours escalated in the modern age of social media.’
I tried to absorb what Barrington was telling me, but had to admit it sounded suspiciously like an urban conspiracy theory. I tapped at my pad with the nib of my pen. ‘So how exactly does this relate to the burnt female corpse that was dumped here in St Kilda?’.
‘Listen,’ Barrington said adjusting his thick, black glasses nervously and preparing to stand; ‘I’m afraid there’s only so much I can tell you without compromising my job. That girl was burnt alive, with a can of gasoline. Autopsy confirms that much. If I tell you that urban legends suggesting that her murder was filmed— are prominent in police circles, would you even believe me? What if I told you I had proof that this murder was filmed as part of a third instalment in this snuff trilogy? Slaughter Theatre - Part Three. That these murders are having a resurgence ——that its all part of this conspiracy?’ ‘I’d say you were either crazy, or had something that would make the biggest news story in Australian history.’ I replied bluntly. Officer Barrington stood up and handed me a business card; ‘That’s all I can do, mate—to tip you off. Listen Pharlap… If you want to learn more I suggest you dig around about this snuff video, I think you’ll find more than you had imagined in your worst daydreams. The.... You’re going to want to speak to the guy —on this card’— (Barrington handed me a business card)— ‘…about a murder that happened at the Three Vertice construction site in Footscray in July 2016. Sorry I can’t be of more help...’ Officer Barrington then shook my hand firmly, and I thanked him before he disappeared into the St Kilda crowds.
So that was how it started. How my innocence was tainted, and I was dragged into this most unnerving and unusual investigation. The business card Barrington gave me belonged to somebody called ‘Drendyl Pex. Three Vertice Construction Company. Owner. Manager.’
For a moment I sat back, and tried to get the tangled mess out of my brain, sipping at the last of my beer. Surely Barrington had gone a bit nuts— reeked of classic Police conspiracy stuff. The idea that the whole criminal underworld is linked through some kind of satanic cult— it was absurd. Satanic Panic. And as for this snuff film? Well… I just had trouble believing that something that could’ve appeared on a /4chan creepy pasta/ could exist in any tangible reality. Nonetheless, right now, it was my only lead. If Barrington believed that the murder of the girl at St Kilda… could somehow be linked to another murder in Footscray, i’d have to investigate it, any other solution would be neglectful.
It was about a twenty five minute drive out to Footscray in my Valiant Charger. I had the air conditioning up to full blast, and my tinted windows down. The radio was blaring FURY FM, some poncy hipster DJ raving on about his succulent garden, and his batch of home-brewed beer. I was about to turn it off when a killer track came on, Head On by The Jesus and Mary Chain, so I cranked the volume and hit the gas. The DJ may have been an arsehole… but he did have decent taste in music, the next tracks were also great; King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard, MGMT -Little Dark Age, ORB -Man in the Sand, Nap Eyes -Don’t be Right. The synthetic pulses of the Chromatics cover of Kate Bush’s ’Running up that Hill’ was playing as I pulled into the car park of the Three Vertice construction company.
It was a busy location, with an adjacent yard; many workers in their flouro orange high vis neons and yellow hard hats coming and going. I stumbled over a poorly concreted patch of turf, up a flight of roughly hewn stairs, through a mesh steel fence, until I came into a sheltered office, and temporary reception desk. The lady at the desk gave me a funny look, and I realised I was still wearing my aviators and tennis visor, and I removed them for politeness. ‘Pharlap Dronefire. I’m here to speak to Drendyl Pex’, I said flatly. The blonde woman with dark wirey eyebrows still had an aggravated look on her face, she scowled and said, barely curteously; ‘I’m afraid Mr Pex is quite busy, do you have an appointment?’ I thought cunningly for a few split seconds; ‘No. But this is of a very private and urgent nature. Mr Pex will see it in his interest that we speak as soon as possible—’ ‘Im sorry sir, but Mr Pex….’— ‘—You can tell him it’s in relation to something that happened last year—at this site— he may want to keep confidential…’ The woman sighed, looking fearfully at her computer, ‘Ill try his office, if you just want to take a seat Mr….?’ ‘Dronefire’ I repeated, casually taking a seat on the old, tattered couch.
It was about a seven minute wait —before a well dressed man, with shoulder length, greased-back hair, purple waist coat, cravat, dark velvet jacket and long boots walked into the room. The woman stood up to introduce us, but before she had a chance the man lunged forward and stood before me with his right hand held straight. The man commanded a strange authority, so that I found I quickly leapt to my feet in his presence, and before I knew it we were in the middle of a firm handshake. ‘Mr Dronefire I believe? Drendyl Pex.’ ‘It’s a pleasure, sir, Is there somewhere we can talk a little more privately?’ ‘Of course, please… Come to my onsite office.’ I followed Mr Pex outside of the temporary unit, and we walked up a hazardous mud slide mountain to a— 3 metre square— white cubicle or trailer. Pex opened a door, and we entered into the luxurious space, decked out with a bar and expensive furniture and entertainment system. ‘Can I fix you a rum, Mr Dronefire?’ Pex asked. ‘I’ve never said no to a rum before.’ I replied truthfully. Pex pulled down a bottle from his packed shelves, dropped ice machine cubes into two glasses and poured. ‘On the rocks suit?’ ‘Yeah…that…uh…that….suits perfectly’ I replied. Drendyl handed me a three quarter full glass of pale liquid; ‘Have you tried it?’ He asked ‘Australian brand, from Adelaide, Gunnery, white spiced. Best this country has to offer.’ I took a sip of the drink, and was surprised by the earthy taste, it was dirty but delicious.
‘Mr Pex’ I said, ‘May I be upfront?’ ‘You want to know about the death that occurred last year.’ Pex replied; ‘I’m guessing you’re a Private Investigator or amateur sleuth of some kind.’ ‘Your receptionist passed on the hint, I suppose?’ I asked. ’I must apologise for our quote-unquote reception. It’s a temporary head office, we’re building a new office space here. Miss Weabley is actually our occupational health and safety manager, just filling the desk whilst we get a new temp in—’ ‘I’m not here representing anyone in a legal capacity Mr Pex’… I said, sensing Pex’s defenses, ‘…you guessed it right, I am a P.I-——— my client is interested in a murder that occurred in St Kilda recently, however other trails of research have led me to a you. Did the death last year occur at this location?’ ‘Aha!’ said Pex, seeming to have figured me out, ‘You’re following the urban legend surrounding a certain snuff film.’ I tried not to act surprised. ‘I can provide you some information about that. But follow me, I want to show you something first.’
Pex swigged the rest of his drink, and placed down the empty glass, I followed his lead, and we exited the white building, trudging around a muddy path on the outer rim of the construction zone. My head was warm from liquor and smog, the sprawling horizon bore the haphazard scattering of Footscray industry. ‘Just up here…i’ll show you…. is where the death happened Mr Dronefire. Alice Goddard. Up over the hill there. I’ll show you the place alright…but….. Are you familiar with Footscray at all?’ ‘Not really…Not a bulldogs fan….I…uh…I barrack for Essendon.’ I joked. ‘Blasphemy’ Pex smiled with formulaic small talk, ‘This was Wurundjeri land, where we are standing. Some time ago it was an immense lagoon where the Koories went fishing. There was a factory here at the turn of the century when the industrial revolution hit. They bulldozed it in the seventies, and it’s been nothing much more than landfill up until 2007 when the Three Vertice construction company purchased it. It’s been a sort of base for some time, although our head office used to be in Fitzroy. We are an equal opportunity employer Mr Dronefire. In the last 20 years, over 50 thousand employees; South Vietnamese, Sudanese, Ethiopian, Somalian, Bangladeshi, Sri Lankan, Indonesian —they have all come through here.’ ‘I’m not quite sure why you are telling me this Mr Pex’ I confessed. ‘I know you’re not a fool Mr Dronefire. We’ve been through our trials and tribulations, pleaded our side in court cases. I don’t particularly enjoy going through the ordeal of recounting the horrific tragedy that happened here last year over and over again. But if I can be plain with you, off the record…’ I nodded. ‘There’s no doubt that girl Alice Goddard was murdered out here, and if you ask me, the likelihood that someone under the employ of the Three Vertice Construction company committing that murder— it’s more than just a likelihood. Of course, you can understand…. why, as leader of this company I would be cautious about publicity over this, i’m not a monster. My pity for the girl is endless. I’ve been very frank with the police about giving them all our employee files.’
I felt like I had just taken in a whiff of pure Drendyl heroine, and had to take a minute to contemplate it. ‘I’m not here to accuse you or your company of anything untoward Mr Pex. Just to seek out the truth. To be honest, I have absolutely nothing in my research which even suggests that the murder which occurred in St Kilda is in any way related to the death of Alice Goddard.’ ‘Well… if you’d done your research, you’d know that she—Alice— was burnt alive.’ Pex stated plainly, ‘Similar autopsy results as your St Kilda murder. I read the newspapers too Mr Dronefire. If I was a police man, i’d definitely be looking at the murders as a double homicide, or possibly two murders in a repeat serial killing. Mind you, this country’s never been well equipped to deal with the serial killer phenomenon, the AFP has a history of bungled investigations in that regard.’ ‘This snuff film?’ I asked increasingly intrigued, but distracted—’You said you were aware of——‘ ‘Everyone in Melbourne is aware of Slaughter Theatre, Mr Dronefire. It’s a legend that’s been spreading around parties in the Northern suburbs for as long as Venereal disease.’ I tried to hold back a chortle, given the morose aspect of the subject matter.
Mr Pex began to walk again, and I followed him up over the last dirt pile which led to the alleged murder site. We were quite high up on the elevation now and had a good view of the Melbourne CBD. Pex stared outwards towards the skyscrapers looming over the Yarra on the horizon. ‘Do you know much about the Crown Casino?’ Pex asked, looking in the general direction of the deluxe crown towers on the horizon. ‘Only that it’s putting a lot of cash in Andrew Packer’s pocket’ I replied. ‘Pfa haha… Packer’s barely here, he’s too busy in Sydney building his 60 million dollar pad at Barangaroo, when he’s not brushing gently against his Scientologist buddies. Good mates with Tom Cruise our James, they’ve all stayed out here at Crown towers too; prominent Scientologists, the Kardashians, the Bush’s, the Rumsfields. Kerry Packer was much more interesting than his son, you know Dronefire. Back in the days of VHS, back when him and Rupert Murdoch were fighting their cold war over who was to be the king pin of the Australian media.’ I took a moment to absorb the serene, pale view of the spires of Hexton CBD, and the dark crown towers silhouetted by the glare of the sun. ‘I’m waiting for the day when the full history of Consolidated press broadcasting comes out,’ Pex continued, ‘…there’s a dark past there the public may never know about. But ol’ Kerry, he knew how to separate recorded history into public and private.’ ‘How do you mean exactly?’ I asked ‘I’m not going to spill all the dirt on Kerry—Mr Dronefire. My father and he had some shared acquaintances. We’d be here all year, and besides, what’s the point. The old cunts dead. You’re a younger bloke, aren’t you Dronefire? I’m guessing 34?’ Pex continued without waiting for an answer, ‘My generation will always remember the day— ha— when Nine Network over stepped Packer’s rule book….’ We reached the top of the hill and stared down into a junkyard of scrap material where the body of the girl had allegedly been dumped. ‘During the shortly lived ‘Australia’s Naughtiest Home Videos’ hosted by the Triple M yobbo Doug Mulray, do you remember? Grown men all over the country were loosening their belts with joy, but Kerry knew there was a time and a place for pornography, and Network television wasn’t it… Haha…. ‘Get that shit off the air!’ That’s what he told the Nine execs when he called them. You should have seen Doug Mulray’s face. Now young James, he’s much more interested in chasing girls, much more interested spending his time in Casino’s than policing the media-boundaries of public and private.’
‘Forgive me Mr Pex’ I interrupted, ‘Maybe i’m misunderstanding all of this. But what exactly does this have to do with the snuff film? Slaughter Theatre?’
Pex seemed satisfied he had given me enough time to look at the scrapyard the body had allegedly been dumped, his body language suddenly changed, and suggested I had overstayed my welcome, and he authoritatively began to escort me back down the dirt hilltop. ‘I can tell you everything I know about the snuff film Mr Dronefire. I’ve heard plenty of rumours about these murders being connected. About them being filmed, and what not. The rumours are everywhere out West and up North in Victoria. They have been for the last 50 years— every time a body shows up, theres a new trail of gossip. Melbourne IS the murder capital of Australia, Mr Dronefire. But unfortunately, I can attest to the truth of those claims no more than I can—the millions of claims about the Loch Ness monster. For all intents and purposes, those of us who are sane rightly dismiss such conspiracies as absurd. Right wing nuts who can’t handle disorder in everything, want everything to be part of some master plan. Then you’ve got the left wing vultures, media types who love a scandal, any fad you can write an article about, or make an indy film inspired by. That’s all this is. Now I have to apologise Dronefire, but I am a busy man. Always happy to help out any investigation, and i’d just as soon see whoever is behind these horrendous crimes behind bars, as much as you, the police— and the girls parents. Now—‘ I could see Pex was wrapping up, but I wasn’t a hundred percent satisfied with the information I had been given, and needed a few more points; ‘Do you mind if stick around here for another ten minutes, just to get some quick interviews with the staff?’ Pex looked mildly disgruntled but not resistant; ‘I can give you ten minutes. Longer than that and you’d be interfering with our productivity i’m afraid. You can speak to our onsite supervisor, he works with most of the staff here.’
Drendyl whistled, and an ocker looking fellow with a mullet, safety vest and a hairy arms made his way over. ‘Fortyn Kildare, this is Private Investigator Dronefire. He’d like to ask you a few questions about the death of Alice Goddard.’ Pex excused himself and disappeared, as I shook Mr Kildare’s hand. ‘You’re a little late aren’t ya?’ asked the gruff man in a thick Aussie accent; ‘Press was all over this ten months ago. What are you hoping to dig up now—eh??’
Continued in Part Two: https://www.reddit.com/libraryofshadows/comments/7new6s/slaughter_theatre_part_two/

Through the Park

So I'm writing on here, really, hoping to see if anyone else has had this happen? Um, the whole thing started about two years ago—I want to stress I've moved since then though, but the curse seems to have followed me...
I used to walk home through the park after going to town. Being young and living near the city it just seemed like the perfect idea, right? And for a few years it was great! I had tons of fun. But since this all began, I've become a nervous wreck and refuse to leave the apartment—which you'll see as ironic later.
I lived approximately only a few K's from town (I'm an Aussie btw), so the walk is only like 20 minutes. The park itself is actually only about 800 metres from side to side, but in those 800 metres I have feared for my life more times than I can now dream of!
The path through the park is lit every 50 metres or so. The lights are a warm yellow actually, it is meant to be nice. There's also benches and trees everywhere, so you normally see people about—anything from other drunks, couples making out, and various homeless people. Over the course of this event though, I noticed less and less people were in the park, or so I thought. Eventually I knew there was no one else in the park but me...
The first time it happened it was going into winter. It was a bit chilly so I was trying to get home quickly. I was about halfway through the park, and I noticed a lady standing directly under a light staring up at it. She looked like a cosplayer in a steampunk outfit meets hipster. Kinda like that chick that was in those Bioshock games, but imagine if that was like seeing a demon...whatever. But as I got closer she receded out of the light and under a near by tree. I found the whole thing creepy. Not because of her attire, hell I didn't even see her face, but it was...how she moved. I watched her walk out of the light, but there was a...gliding motion about it. Y'know? I was walking by her when she asked me if I'd seen him? I just ignored her as most drunks/weirdos always talk and it's best to avoid it, but then she asked again. A bit louder. So I stopped and said excuse me as I turned around.
She was only metres away...
I almost crapped myself. But then she just laughed and said not to worry, I hadn't seen him. She just knew... I thought whatever and walked off, thinking she was just a freak.
That night I couldn't get her face out of my mind though! The split second when she was metres away, and the way she looked at me...still raised/raises the hairs on my neck. There was a longing in her eyes. Like she'd been searching for centuries for whoever she was alluding too. I told myself she just had kickass contacts and fell asleep.
A month later I met her again. Going through the same park, under the same light, wearing the same clothes.
She said the same things too, wondering if I'd seen him etcetera, but this time I didn't respond and just kept walking. I felt a tug at my shirt. I turned around quickly thinking something was about to go down… But then she was at the tree!? And she glide/walked out from the shadow...with this look. This freaky crazed look of knowing.
'You've seen him? Haven't you?'
She looked so happy. But the glint in her eye said otherwise.
'You've seen Eric? Please—'
At that point I turned around and kept walking. I'll admit I was a bit freaked out because my name is Eric... She screamed for me to stop, but never actually left the shadow of the tree. I turned to look at her again and she looked like she was trapped in the shadow, just reaching towards me. I know it doesn't sound scary, but fuck man, how she reached didn't seem human.
I lost more sleep that night, but eventually I just convinced myself otherwise and moved on.
Nothing for a few months. More so because it was cold, and I was a little freaked by it and wasn't going out as much. But near the end of winter I went out again, walked home again.
It was a freezing night. The rain had abated enough and I was making for a quick trip home. I know you might be thinking why didn't you just cab at this stage, but I dunno man, it hadn't all really clicked together yet. The oddity of it all that is. Like it was weird… but living in the city you see plenty of weird stuff. Anyway, it was cold, currently not raining, and I was making a good go of it. As I crossed the park it felt oddly warm—you get those weird pockets though sometimes. As I neared me and the mystery girls spot, it started to rain. It was actually quite welcoming as it was a warm rain. I just kept my head up and travelled on, determined to pick up the pace to beat the rain and also that light. I just want to say walking on the grass or not on the path isn't really an option, it's a dense park and the path shoots you out on to the road I live on.
I was nearing the light and couldn't see her! Phew! I was under the light when I heard her though. It still rings in my head.
'Eric?'
It sounded so innocent and with so much longing, but when I turned to see her… she looked far form innocent. She had all this grime on her, her clothes were ripped, there was a weird powdery look—they looked a hundred years old too! That crazy look was on her face again.
'Eric?! Oh my god, Eric! Baby come to mummy!'
I just fucking sprinted man. She was screaming hysterically. I turned and she was following me!
'Eric! Stop right now young man!'
And I did. I froze...
'Good boy. Now, turn around for mummy.'
And I did that too.
'Baby, baby, baby boy, look at you! You've gone and got yourself all wet and dirty. But I can fix that. Mummy always knows how to look after you.'
My heart was trying to leap out of my mouth at this point. I always remember how the movies and books always show a kid pissing himself, or crapping himself, but at that point all I was was transfixed. Her eyes just had me.
She was gliding towards me much slower now. Looking me up and done like some piece of prey. If she was this Eric boy's mum, I sure wonder how she mothered him.
'Why do you cause me to hurt you so, Eric? Why won’t you just do what I say?'
I can only think how many times that kid must've heard her say that. The words came out like a well worn path.
At this point she was only a few strides away. My urge to run was growing. I felt like my control was coming back.
Then she looked away. I was free! I turned and sprinted! I held my hands over my ears and just ran. Her screams were still getting through, but I guess they had no power? Anyways, I have never gotten out of that park so quick. There I was all of a sudden crossing the road, I didn't even look at the cars, I just ran.
I got home about five minutes later with her calls still ringing in my ears, 'dirty boy!', 'you will punish yourself!', 'filthy child, look at you!'. I fumbled the door open and crushed the lock closed after getting in. I didn't realise how out of breath I was, but I could barely stand. I subsequently crashed down on the floor against the door, and just stayed like that for a while... When I caught my sanity, it felt like it more than my breath, I went to the bathroom. That is where I saw the truth.
The warm rain...had not been rain. I was covered head to toe in blood! I thought I'd just been caught in a light rain, I just didn't notice because of my dark clothes? I just...just...fuck I didn't expect it as blood! It was raining dammit! But the scary thing is, when she saw me like that, she thought I was Eric! What the fuck happened to Eric!
Some showers can't clean you.
I was well and truly freaked out after that, didn't go out, stayed in, and having not told my housemates at all about the whole thing, stayed quiet. It was really only then too, after the blood rain, that it all clicked together as a series of events. I just chilled for a while.
The phone calls started in that period.
It was the lady, I could just tell. The reason I mentioned my housemates too, is because I knew it couldn't be them pranking me—as I hadn't told them. The only other person who knew, was her.
The calls were freaky. Just breathing. I hung up after the first couple; I also don't answer private numbers anymore. One or two of them she would say, 'I miss you', or 'I'm sorry'. But a couple were just real heavy breathing, like some beast was wounded on the other end. I Had no option but to listen too! The phone would just answer. No swipe, nothing. It would just pick up and cut off after 10 seconds. It's freaky man.
At this point I was really scared. The daytime was fine, but I never ventured out at night. Fuck.that.shit!
One day at work though, we had luncheon thing. Late lunch, a few interstate managers/workers, we all went out and had a bite. I sat next to this guy called Mel, he was chatty enough and we passed the time pretty easily. Joking around and whatever people talk about. But like me, he got a bit edgy as darkness began to creep. I tried to make a joke about him being a pussy, cover my own tracks, and he just didn't laugh. It was awkward so I went to piss.
I came out of the stall, the anxiety had affected many things...and he was waiting by the sink. Staring at me through the mirror.
'If you knew what I knew, Eric, you'd be afraid of the dark.'
My face let slip my fear, because he smiled then.
'You do know.'
I went to run out of the room, fuck hygiene, but he grabbed me. His strength did not match his look, if you know what I mean. We were all office workers for fuck sake.
'Are you haunted? I'm not! But my brother, I just read a lot, can't be too careful these days—'
'Let go of me mate!'
He dropped his arm and I edged away a bit.
'Have you heard of the Adelaide Bakess? Here?'
I stopped then. That was what she looked like! One of those weird old cabbage-patch kind of kids toys! Bakers uniform/dress—she just didn't have the dress hat.
His eyes lit up.
'You have! You've seen her too!'
I walked out and straight to the bar. I ordered a rum and dry and nervously tapped my money on the counter. He came up.
'You won't escape her. Well, you have to beat her. That's what the net says at least.'
'Look bud, it's funny. And I was just joking in there, but honestly mate, you're starting to look a bit—'
'Like I'm covered in blood?'
Fuck...
'You—'
'No. My brother. He was also called Eric. He moved down here with the same company years ago, and suffered a similar thing, it drove him crazy. He killed himself. I was the only person he ever told...'
Me and Mel stood at the bar for a while. My drink came, I ordered another for him, and we just stood there...
A few others called out to us and told us to end our date and rejoin the table. We all had another few drinks and then called it. I was hopping into my car when Mel called out again.
'Just look after yourself, okay? Just, look into it all at least.'
With that he jogged back to his boss and hopped in their cab, they were off to the casino. I didn't talk to the cabby and was just dropped straight home. I walked up the driveway.
She was there! On my doorstep! Sitting in the light!
'Baby! I found you...' Her face turned. 'You've been a bad boy, Eric. I don't want to cut you again. Okay?'
I was frozen again. Cut me?
'Those scars have always been so ugly on you. I didn't want to do it. You're such a beautiful boy too, but mummy must punish you if you've been bad...!'
She was looking at me lovingly now.
'It's okay, baby. We can put ointment on your thigh and it won't be too bad.'
That fucking shook me. I should say I've had this long running birthmark/scar on the inside of my leg since birth. It runs for about half a foot, and has this weird smile quality about it...
'C'mon. Show mummy the scar. I want to see.' She spoke to me like some bad child, I even felt guilty. I began to take my pants down...
'Eric you weird cunt, what are you doing?! You're that keen for beat you're gonna do it in the driveway?' It was my housemate Todd at the door!
She turned and her spell broke.
I yanked my pants up and swung a right hook at her head as hard as I could. My hand passed right through her head and she disappeared! Immediately this wail echoed all around our little cement box/share driveway.
'Errrrrriiiiiiiiiiiic!'
I sprinted into the house and shut the door. Todd didn't know what to think, and just thought it was some weird prank. I was in the bathroom and into the shower.
My arm was freezing! It felt like it was in this ice bath, but also with pins and needles shooting up and down my arm.
Her voice began echoing around the bathroom.
'Killing you was the best thing I ever did!', 'Mummy will make all the problems stop, Eric!', 'You've been telling my secrets!' That and many like it just kept echoing. I screamed until I blacked out.
Todd and my other housemate, Ads, woke me up. The shower was off and I was covered in a towel. They hadn't heard anything but my screaming, they figured I'd slipped in the shower; but when they came in I was lying on the ground just screaming over and over.
'Mummy please! Please don't kill me! I'll be good! I’ll do it!'
I just want to say I wasn't beaten or raped, or anything in my childhood. I had as best a childhood anyone could have. They took me to the ER, they chalked up mild concussion, don't sleep etcetera and the whole thing was forgotten by them and my housemates.
I moved away. I was too freaked out.
I now live a couple states away, same company, same state as Mel actually, but I work form home.
I've become a complete recluse. I order everything through the internet and just email everything back and forth with work. I still get calls. I've changed my phone six times now, nothing works. I'm thinking off disconnecting it, but even then, I get emails too. Occasionally my screen goes blank and a message pops up, 'Baby...why'd you leave me?'
The other day my internet dropped out. I was looking up the Adelaide Bakess Myth... I managed to find an UM’s page and read her story. In the late 18 hundreds, apparently she killed and ate all her own children. She was a poor widower. Eric was made to help her. When he didn't comply she'd cut him. He was the last child left of a family of seven. He was only eight. He did tell them her secrets too. The them was the police, at first they didn't believe him. They did when the mother turned herself into the police though, she was covered in blood. They went back to her house and found various unbaked pies around the kitchen. Eric had been cut up and readied for baking. His head was still on the bench, well his head was there with his face next to it. She'd skinned him...which is how they identified him and proved the story. She was tried and hung pretty quickly. My internet, and power with it, cut out as I got to the end of the article.
Lately, I've had more and more scars beginning to appear on my body. The other morning a knife was delivered to my apartment, I never ordered it...
Has anyone heard of this lady? Or any similar instances? I'm typing this at the library, as I don't have internet still, and am that desperate. If anyone knows anything, please contact me through here. I'll be back tomorrow and would love to know anything. Please help me.

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Showerthoughts	Big news for Apple used to be the release of the iPod, iTunes, or iPhone. Now it's stickers.	Apple
food	Homemade Chicken Fajitas with onions and Bell Peppers	Bell
movies	Can't remember movie, cooking a steak scene. Google not helping, at all.	Google
news	Talented kid who became youngest intern at Intel diagnosed with schizophrenia.	Intel
worldnews	The United Nations Security Council on Friday strengthened its protection of global cultural heritage sites threatened by armed conflicts, saying perpetrators of unlawful destruction could be prosecuted for war crimes	United
pics	My friend asked for a drawing on his Publix sub bag. He was not disappointed.	Publix
worldnews	A whistleblower has accused oil giant Shell of concealing data on the health effects of two major oil spills on communities in Nigeria.	Shell
videos	My First Attempt At Making A Nike Commercial. Or any commercial for that matter	Nike
AskReddit	Redditors who have won a McDonald's or grocery store Monopoly prize, how did it go?	McDonald's
movies	[Original Ghost in the Shell director: 'no basis' for whitewashing anger	Film](https://www.reddit.com/movies/comments/61dbcd/original_ghost_in_the_shell_director_no_basis_fo)
funny	Ever think you'd actually read the Apple T&C if it were illustrated in the styles of all your favorite comic artists?	Apple
pics	I think Target is trying to tell me something.	Target
Jokes	What's the only thing made by Microsoft that doesn't suck?	Microsoft
food	Homemade Kielbasa, Potato, and Bell Pepper Hash	Bell
Documentaries	CSB Safety Video: Anatomy of a Disaster 2008 - A thorough look into how focusing on rewarding production figures and ignoring management and safety failures led to 15 deaths and 180 injuries at the BP Texas City Refinery 12 years ago. 55:33CC	BP
funny	Mike Tyson has started a mobile proctology business	Tyson
AskReddit	Who are some great content creators on Youtube that not many people know about?	Youtube
worldnews	A teenage blogger from Singapore whose online posts blasting his government landed in him jail has been granted asylum to remain in the United States.	United
Showerthoughts	Nintendo themed Lego should be a thing	Lego
funny	For most, stepping on Lego is incredibly painful. I simply get taller.	Lego
Showerthoughts	How many of you send specific messages to Google or other search engines in the hope you cracking up an Intel analyst somewhere?	Google
Showerthoughts	How many of you send specific messages to Google or other search engines in the hope you cracking up an Intel analyst somewhere?	Intel
pics	A red pill to cell phone junkies on a train at Beijing Subway line 6.	Subway
videos	4 year old drives a Volvo truck.	Volvo
gaming	Thoughts about the Xbox elite controller	Xbox
pics	The CN Tower peeking through fog	CN
pics	The Grand Canyon, United States	United
AskReddit	Assuming no one follows the directions, how do you make Kraft Dinner?	Kraft
pics	Happy Birthday Meghan Hughes The most Charming Youtube Star of Georgia.	Youtube
listentothis	Oberon -- From the Sky Stoner / Prog / Space Rock 2016	Sky
photoshopbattles	PsBattle: Mike Tyson on his rather large throne.	Tyson
pics	I was parked next to this car at Walmart tonight	Walmart
funny	My sister left this note for the thief who stole her FedEx package	FedEx
videos	Huge Air Canon at Brain Candy Live - 360 Video	Canon
Art	"The Lego Merlin - Eve Online", Digital 3D, 1920x1080	Lego
AskReddit	Isaac Newton, Nikola Tesla, and Leonardo Da Vinci died virgins. Would you give up sex if it meant you could be on their level of brilliance? Why or why not?	Vinci
TwoXChromosomes	Support/vent? Fake profiles with stolen nude photos requesting friends and family on Facebook {possible trigger}	Facebook
pics	This pooch was found last week by animal control in Midland, TX. I found out about her through Facebook on Wednesday. Drove from Dallas to Midland yesterday and adopted her this morning. I couldn't say no to this face. Reddit, meet Bella.	Facebook
AskReddit	Which Apple notebook is the best?	Apple
pics	Bats Fall from the Sky in Australia Due to Extreme Heat Wave	Sky
worldnews	London attack: Trafalgar Square vigil for people to 'express solidarity' - BBC News	BBC
food	Homemade Mini Apple Pies	Apple
videos	REMIX Children interrupt BBC MEME FIRE	BBC
AskReddit	What's the best state in the United States, and why is it Texas?	United
news	Reports of shots fired at the Bellagio Resort and Casino in Las Vegas	Casino
Showerthoughts	Google Chat / hangout, duo, allo, talko, etc., are the equivalent on my phone of Microsoft Audio Players on my PC.	Microsoft
Showerthoughts	Telling Google Assistant to do things is like playing Simon Says. It only counts if you say "OK google" first	Google
pics	The absolutely ridiculous Ferrari World in Abu Dhabi xpost evilbuildings	Ferrari
worldnews	Khalid Masood: from Kent schoolboy to Westminster attacker	Kent
dataisbeautiful	[BMW service Adelaide	Angus Mitchell Automotive
AskReddit	Couples who share Facebook accounts - why?	Facebook
Futurology	Startup Impossible Foods says it can now produce enough for 4 million meatless burgers a month—taking on its food-tech rivals and, soon, McDonald's MCD	McDonald's
Music	Alberto Droguett - Don't hang up Home-made Progressive Rock	Progressive
videos	Ozzy Man Reviews: Slowest Chase Ever	Chase
Music	It's Aretha Franklin's birthday today. Singing "Respect" by Otis Redding and "A Natural Woman" brought her into the national limelight.	Otis
pics	Transformation 384 to 173 Total weight loss of 206 lbs.	Total
OldSchoolCool	The 38th US President Gerald Ford playing basketball on the aircraft carrier USS Monterey - 1944	Ford
videos	3 Personal eBay Horror Stories: Storytime #5	eBay
news	Douglas Carswell quitting UKIP - BBC News	BBC
worldnews	Red Nose Day 2017: Carpool Karaoke with Take That - BBC News	BBC
funny	The man taught to have sex by lesbians - BBC News	BBC
pics	Sunrise captured outside of a Walmart in Flagstaff, AZ	Walmart
pics	One of the Pigmen that Robbed the Bellagio Rolex store last night.	Rolex
AskReddit	How do you feel about Gender Roles in the United States?	United
Jokes	A bottle of Heineken walks into a restaurant	Heineken
funny	This is what Google Assistant thinks of the Reddit comment section. From an AskReddit thread about what song is played too often	Google
listentothis	Benjamin Clementine -- Winston Churchill's Boy Art Pop/Avant-garde 2014	Winston
nottheonion	Man in leopard print robe and crocs robs McDonald's with comb	McDonald's
Music	Female Electronic Musician Sky Vettel	Sky
Showerthoughts	When the Google search results come back, I refuse to click the link that says "Ad" next to it even though the link I do click is the same exact URL.	Google
videos	How The Popular Youtube channel Sourcefed ended there final ever livestream was just an amazing tribute to the show	Youtube
mildlyinteresting	This bottle of Heineken has the wrong cap. Its for another beer called desperatos.	Heineken
Futurology	Self-Driving Uber With Passenger Involved In Arizona Collision	Uber
mildlyinteresting	This bottle of Heineken has the wrong cap. It's from another beer called desperados.	Heineken
movies	Do people not know that Ghost in the Shell is written by the same person who wrote 3 Transformers films?	Shell
videos	How to Remove Stuck Seed Shell Helmet Head	Shell
WritingPrompts	WP Frustrated by years of legislative gridlock, the United States ratifies the 28th Amendment allowing bills to bypass Congressional voting and instead be decided via steel cage match. You're the last actual politician in a Senate full of professional wrestlers.	United
todayilearned	TIL Facebook has a "Town Hall" feature that allows you to enter your address and auto generate a list of your representatives' FB pages and contact info	Facebook
television	15 Ways Total Bellas Proves John Cena Is A Douche!	Total
todayilearned	TIL: In 1938, RCA engineers picked up a "televisor" signal from the BBC because of a "freak weather incident," which is the only pre-war footage of television to exist	BBC
funny	The Irony of my Facebook feed	Facebook
gaming	Does an adapter exist to make a USB headset compatible with Xbox 360?	Xbox
Showerthoughts	There should be a "thumbs up, thumbs down" for Google search results. So people know which site is fake.	Google
AskReddit	How do Polygamist multiple wives in this case with 18 kids did you see the BBC Documentary too? pay for their lifestyle?	BBC
pics	Old Woman at Night in Hoi An! Sony A7s with the Zeiss Batis 85mm!	Sony
videos	My Friend attempts banana and Sprite challenge	Sprite
AskReddit	Which one is ur favorite KFC or Mcdonald's?	KFC
movies	The League United !!!	United
personalfinance	Hey guys, I came here not to long ago for a beginners credit card at the age 23 to start building credit. Through many recommendations I applied for Chase Freedom Ultimate. Sadly I got denied but was pre-approved for Chase Slate. What's your opinion on this card?	Chase
explainlikeimfive	ELI5: why aren't Libertarianism and Classical Liberalism the dominant economic and political philosophies, respectively, in the United States?	United
videos	Maggie Rogers thanks "faces behind computer screens" before playing Alaska in San Francisco	Rogers
Futurology	Great Scott!: Flying Taxis Could Soon Be Coming To A Sky Near You	Sky
Showerthoughts	Justice League could be better with Vincent Chase as Aquaman	Chase
videos	Ghost in the Shell - Bloopers & Behind the Scenes	Shell
WritingPrompts	WP There is a shortage of police in the United States, they've decided to implement a draft. You've been selected.	United
mildlyinteresting	The new Starbucks cup is the same color as my wall	Starbucks
AskReddit	Who is your most famous Facebook friend?	Facebook
Music	Lost the password/acct info to my old Apple Music library	Apple
funny	Found this on an iPad at the Apple Store.	Apple
Jokes	There's a pun about Apple glasses...	Apple
worldnews	Australia does not have to choose between the United States and China, the Australian prime minister said	United
AskReddit	What's the point in asking reddit a question on AskReddit when you can quickly Google it?	Google
funny	Did one of those Facebook things today...	Facebook
mildlyinteresting	Complimentary Mouthwash at the Ford Dealership	Ford
worldnews	Douglas Carswell quitting UKIP to become independent MP for Clacton - BBC News	BBC
worldnews	EU hails new alliance for supercomputers: Seven EU countries announced a joint initiative to acquire and deploy world-class high-performance computers, a project that is comparable to the size of Airbus or the Galileo satellite navigation project	Airbus
Futurology	EU hails new alliance for supercomputers: Seven EU countries announced a joint initiative to acquire and deploy world-class high-performance computers, a project that is comparable to the size of Airbus or the Galileo satellite navigation project	Airbus
videos	The first episode of a Mr. Rogers five-episode arc titled "Conflict", focusing on nuclear conflict and war. The episodes have been lost since the mid-90's until now...	Rogers
mildlyinteresting	This box of apples had an Apple Usage Chart	Apple
personalfinance	Pay your cell phone bill with a Wells Fargo credit card	Wells Fargo
videos	Nerdy Uber Driver Surprises Passengers with his Talent	Uber
AskReddit	Is it dangerous using Adobe Zii for patching Adobe products? Will I get sued or something like that? What is the worst case scenario?	Adobe
Showerthoughts	One day there will be Google maps for hyperspace and worm holes, like the hi-way systems of today.	Google
videos	I think the United States postal service is downsizing	United
AskReddit	What are some benefits of Android phones that Apple users wouldn't know about?	Apple
nottheonion	Man in leopard-print robe, orange Crocs robs McDonald's with hairbrush	McDonald's
AskReddit	What do you feel are the top 3 most valued traits in the United States?	United
funny	When Tim Hortons puts you in your place	Tim Hortons
AskReddit	What was your bad Uber experience?	Uber
worldnews	Chinese court rules in favor of Apple in local design patent disputes	Apple
AskReddit	serious why is Google play being shut down?	Google
mildlyinteresting	This Volkswagen devil	Volkswagen
AskReddit	Why do hockey and soccer fans in the United States have such an inferiority complex about basketball being way more culturally relevant?	United
news	Man in Business Suit and pig mask robs Rolex store in Las Vegas. Shots fired. GTAV real life.	Rolex
todayilearned	TIL "Devo" bassist/singer Gerald Casale witnessed the Kent State shootings. That day, he "stopped being a hippie" and focused on their concept of devolution, that mankind has begun to regress.	Kent
movies	Thoughts on the live action Ghost in the Shell movie.	Shell
pics	1956 Renault Etoile Filante, broke land speed records in the day.	Renault
worldnews	Belarus protests: Hundreds arrested after defying ban - BBC News	BBC
AskReddit	Gamers, If you could pick one game to buy for Xbox One what would it be and why?	Xbox
AskReddit	What is the most underrated state in the United States one that one one really talks about but is awesome?	United
worldnews	Thousands take to streets in anti-Brexit London march - BBC News	BBC
AskReddit	What is the most unbelievable video on Youtube you have ever seen that almost no one has seen?	Youtube
pics	Another Charter Spectrum Genius.	Charter
AskReddit	Where's the best place to get buffalo wings in the United States?	United
Showerthoughts	Really, since I accept the idea of aliens as a reality and the Beast could be just like an alien, Bell really isn't nasty for giving him some play before he transforms.	Bell
Showerthoughts	It's taken me too long to realise that the saying "that rings a bell" when remembering something, is in reference to the Pavlov's Bell experiments.	Bell
pics	Took this photo today in N Quito, Ecuador with a Canon 80D	Canon
photoshopbattles	PsBattle: BBC toddler addressing the crowd	BBC
AskReddit	Hey Reddit, what's the code for using the intercom at Walmart in 2017?	Walmart
funny	Children interrupt BBC News interview THE BACKWARDS EDITION	BBC
funny	Children interrupt BBC News interview THE BACKWARDS EDITION	BBC
mildlyinteresting	Someone coded a smiley face on CBS sports radio when you click to listen live.	CBS
mildlyinteresting	The Shazam logo looks like two Lego hands holding each other	Lego
food	I Ate Orange Pistachio Cassata with Blackberries and Citrus Olive Oil	Orange
worldnews	China Wants Total Access To Canada, May Seek To Import Its Own Workers	Total
Documentaries	The Secret World of Richard Nixon - BBC 2000	BBC
videos	Nerdy Uber Driver Surprises Passengers with his Talent	Uber
AskReddit	Put Donald Trump's mind & Twitter account into any former US President & how would they respond to an event that occurred during their presidency?	Twitter
funny	Thanks, Google AdSense! I'll take one hydraulic press for science, please.	Google
videos	Teenager stays hidden in Costco for 24 hours	Costco
AskReddit	serious why will Google play games be blocked?	Google
Documentaries	HOW TO STACK TOWERS IN BLOONS TD BATTLES! THE STRONGEST STRATEGY POSSIB...2014	TD
mildlyinteresting	This sign in Germany is telling you to leave the building in case of fire before you Twitter about it	Twitter
television	The first episode of a Mr. Rogers five-episode arc titled "Conflict" from 1983, focusing on nuclear conflict and war. The episodes have all been lost until now.	Rogers
sports	Booker's 70 gives Suns reason to celebrate - ESPN Video	ESPN

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[WA] A hotel security worker has contracted the virus, Premier Mark McGowan has announced

New cases reported in the last 24 hours

Other news and information

Cases to date

What we know so far about the security guard

Perth, Peel and South West region enters lockdown from 6pm, 31 January 2021

Locations visited by confirmed case

[WA] Daily case update and other information - 5th Feb 2021

Notes from Today's press conference

🎥 Recap from yesterday

Cases reported in the previous 24 hours