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Chloroform Nightmares
CAMDEN LEE CASSIDY lives in a deeply ugly world where the innocent die in the darkness, molested, raped and tortured – women, teens, children, babies. It’s everywhere: on TV, movies, online, drilling his brain 24/7; it’s in T.C. Jester Park, where two girls from his high school were raped, beat, strangled with a shoelace and left to rot; it’s all around Houston, his city – home of cowboys and psychopaths.
His mother was a military nurse who taught him to stitch flesh when he was eight, and shared graphic medical encyclopedias with him. His firefighter father was a celebrated war hero who singlehandedly freed thirty-four men from a POW camp in which he had also been subjected to the violent horrors of captivity. Both die early deaths to disease and cancer, his mother when he was ten, his father shortly after graduating high school. All the kids in his crazy neighborhood were walking the same path whether they had dead parents or not; everyone was fucked up and just trying to survive – act like a psycho and they leave you alone. This was the hazy, pumped, mad, garbled world of body-bag violence, of liquor, weed, Xanax, cocaine, ecstasy, meth – the shit that turned the world upside down – of LSD, shrooms, Vicodin; the full set of stimulants, barbiturates, and hallucinogens, uppers, downers, and all-arounders.
Now a grown man, approaching his thirties, the friends have fallen away and Camden’s only companion in the haze of drugs and alcohol is Mr. Tibbs, his tabby cat, as he soaks up reruns of To Catch a Predator, surfs all the serial killers and murder methods that Wikipedia and crime documentaries have to offer, and reflects on a world that turns his stomach: how an average child molester will offend 200-400 times before being caught; how the vast majority of offenders don’t ever get caught; how, according to the FBI, only one in ten cases of child sexual abuse is reported to law enforcement. Where’s the justice? How is this happening? Someone needs to do something. His father was a hero; why can’t he follow in his footsteps and deliver the country from the grip of this insidious cancer? Wasn’t that what his father was trying to tell him with his last angry words? “You have to grab life by the horns, son … AND BREAK ITS FUCKING NECK!”
He begins his vigilante career as a sniper, high on synthetic opiates and a thrashing murder playlist, and progresses to staged suicides, forcing his prey to drink pesticides and “hang themselves”, but this isn’t enough to quench his thirst for retribution. Their suffering is minute compared to that of their victims. He needs to torture them the way they tortured the children whose innocence they stole and lives they destroyed. So, he takes a rental house and readies himself for the next step, with soundproofing, plastic sheets, and an arsenal of cruel and unusual weaponry, specifically designed for a slow and painful death. He then shakes hands with a new friend – chloroform.
His mother was a military nurse who taught him to stitch flesh when he was eight, and shared graphic medical encyclopedias with him. His firefighter father was a celebrated war hero who singlehandedly freed thirty-four men from a POW camp in which he had also been subjected to the violent horrors of captivity. Both die early deaths to disease and cancer, his mother when he was ten, his father shortly after graduating high school. All the kids in his crazy neighborhood were walking the same path whether they had dead parents or not; everyone was fucked up and just trying to survive – act like a psycho and they leave you alone. This was the hazy, pumped, mad, garbled world of body-bag violence, of liquor, weed, Xanax, cocaine, ecstasy, meth – the shit that turned the world upside down – of LSD, shrooms, Vicodin; the full set of stimulants, barbiturates, and hallucinogens, uppers, downers, and all-arounders.
Now a grown man, approaching his thirties, the friends have fallen away and Camden’s only companion in the haze of drugs and alcohol is Mr. Tibbs, his tabby cat, as he soaks up reruns of To Catch a Predator, surfs all the serial killers and murder methods that Wikipedia and crime documentaries have to offer, and reflects on a world that turns his stomach: how an average child molester will offend 200-400 times before being caught; how the vast majority of offenders don’t ever get caught; how, according to the FBI, only one in ten cases of child sexual abuse is reported to law enforcement. Where’s the justice? How is this happening? Someone needs to do something. His father was a hero; why can’t he follow in his footsteps and deliver the country from the grip of this insidious cancer? Wasn’t that what his father was trying to tell him with his last angry words? “You have to grab life by the horns, son … AND BREAK ITS FUCKING NECK!”
He begins his vigilante career as a sniper, high on synthetic opiates and a thrashing murder playlist, and progresses to staged suicides, forcing his prey to drink pesticides and “hang themselves”, but this isn’t enough to quench his thirst for retribution. Their suffering is minute compared to that of their victims. He needs to torture them the way they tortured the children whose innocence they stole and lives they destroyed. So, he takes a rental house and readies himself for the next step, with soundproofing, plastic sheets, and an arsenal of cruel and unusual weaponry, specifically designed for a slow and painful death. He then shakes hands with a new friend – chloroform.
385 pages, Kindle Edition
Published April 14, 2016
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