Record of Mr. Charley Davis
Record filing date: March 9th 2006
Doctor presiding: Dr. William J. Harmond
Taunton State Hospital For The Criminally Insane
Taunton, Massachusetts
(Charley Davis)
I used to love to write. Used to love the feeling of the pen in my hand and the scratching of the paper beneath. But It’s been so long. And now that I have to write, I feel like I have nothing to say. But I do have something to say. I’m going to chronicle everything happening to me so that maybe one day I can publish it into a book or maybe do an expose` on this hospital I’m in. Now don’t get me wrong; I deserve to be here. I deserve to be locked up. I earned that. But I just want everyone to know that it was my choice. You see when you are accused of a murder that you did, in fact, commit you have one of two options: you can release yourself to the justice system and let that be the end of it, the end of you, or you can plead insanity. So now I find myself in this hospital, surrounded by people who think I’m crazy. Which is fine by me, I needed a way out of the chair and they gave me one. So now you’re probably wondering what I did. Well It’s simple; I killed the man who was going to kill me. Of course the word man is a term only used on the official statement that the police submitted. And I don’t blame them. But now I’d wager you are wondering “well how could you go to the loony bin for killing someone who was going to kill you?” Well, reader, the problem with my self defense was that the man had not actually tried to kill me yet. Let me take a step back. From an early age I’ve had a gift. A gift of sight. You see I receive visions from another world that show me how things truly are. Now, I know what you’re thinking “wow, he really is insane” but allow me to defend myself yet again. You see people lie all the time here, everyone does, even me. But they don’t lie because they are bad people they just do bad things and want to cover it up. And of course I don’t mean lies like a surprise birthday party or a secret they keep to protect someone. I mean lies about what they do when they are alone. Those lies are gateways that allow more evil into their lives and evil feeds demons. Yes I used the word ‘Demon” no I’m not a religious nut it’s just the best way that I can describe them. I mean what image comes to mind when you hear the word demon? Anything good to look at or otherwise pleasant to the eyes? No. They are horrible things on the outside and inside. So once again please bare with me. Now these “demons” attach themselves to people and influence them, they can be as simple as making them feel happy, sad, or tired or they can whisper little things to you that you misinterpret as your own thoughts and so on. But their ultimate goal is to take you over, possess you, and force you to act and do things that they want.
Now these visions of mine are not mine to control, they show up whenever there is certain evil around. Most commonly; a demon. They come to me as what I guess you could call ‘Episodes’ and during this time I can see everything the way it is in this certain world where demons can’t hide from plain sight.
Almost one year ago I noticed, during my daily bus ride to work, that I would see strange things occur. I saw shadows bend and lights flicker and I witnessed insects seemingly materialize from thin air. All of this seemed to surround a single man that I would see everyday on my commute. Now, at first, my mind seemed drawn to the worst possible conclusion but I soon rationalized that it may not mean the presence of a demon. Perhaps only the influence of evil or even just coincidence. So I decided to try and get to know the man. I would talk to him and sit near him on the bus and just be generally noticeable to him everyday. We began to grow close as time passed. I would notice that, though he looked to be a young man in the prime of his youth, he would often complain about sore joints and sleepless nights. He had always seemed to be tired or on the verge of sleep when I saw him but one day he looked particularly worse for wear. So I had asked him “why”. He simply told me that he hadn’t slept much but when I had pressed him for more information he sighed and told that he hated to sleep in his apartment, in fact he said that he was terrified to stay there alone. I, once more, asked “why” and he told me how he didn’t feel safe there. Then he told me about the night previous when he had awoken in the middle of the night and had seen every dish and glass in his abode floating about his bed, encircling him in a glass and porcelain halo, spinning above his sleeping form. But the moment his eyes met the ring orbiting above him; the band fell to the floor around his bed in a massive crash. He then noticed that his bed room had been completely cleared out of furniture, aside from his bed (which had been relocated to the very center of the room). He had assumed it to be a form of sleepwalking; where he was doing it all himself but when I asked him if there was anything else that had been going on; he broke down weeping. When he seemed to calm down he told me that his apartment was the place he spent the least amount of time possible. He said, while there, he would routinely hear voices, whispers in the dark that he couldn’t understand. He said that he would see shadows twist and move before his very eyes, he would see faces and eyes in every reflective surface and figures would dance around in his apartment windows when he would look through them, both in or out. He said that, one time, as he walked home he noticed a darkened figure moving around in his window from the inside. He approached the door as the figure too approached the same entryway, from within. And when he reached for the knob, it turned before he could touch it and then, without any prompting, the door opened inwards to the empty apartment, a massive gust of wind following the motion.
He then told me that the activity seemed to stop when ever he was with company, so he would always try and have people over. Either sleeping or just staying for a while. But the moment he was alone, it all came back. He even tried to get pets, thinking it might help. His dog disappeared and he found his cat dead in his freezer, claw marks marring the inside. He had thought it could have been an accident but his freezer had more of a tendency to pop open randomly that to stay closed for it opened with minimal effort. He had also set cameras inside to capture anything happening with him asleep in the other room and watched the next day as furniture moved on it’s own, figures in the form of vague pillars of smoke, walked in and out of his room, and even the camera itself seemed to be picked up and moved near his bed and turned towards him as he lay. Then he would witness as several shadows grew on the walls around him while he slept. He took the tapes to experts who all thought it to be a hoax. And him, not being a religious man, did not seek out any spiritual help or guidance. I had asked him if he had planned to move and he said that he had, twice, but it always came back. It was then that I told him that I had had some experience in this area and that I might be able to help if he would allow me to visit. He agreed.
When I went to his apartment I had not told him about my visions at all so that I could judge for myself without him “putting on a show” for me. As I approached I saw something in the corner of my eye but when I looked I only saw the air waver like heat coming off of a road in summer. I assumed the worst but moved on, I had to know the extent of the presence.
We proceeded to the door where I thought I heard the man speak, I turned towards my host but I realized that it came from the space before me, not behind. A noticeable chill trickled down my spine. Cautiously we reached the door. Everything became deathly quiet. I distinctly remember the lack of birds singing or even the sound of the wind in the trees. I paused as a warm pressure reached up to greet my hand as I stretched for the knob, as though it were pulsing. All was un-naturally calm as I twisted the brass handle and gave the smallest of pushes to the wooden door. The gateway slowly rolled wide as I took my first step inside. The moment we crossed the threshold my stomach turned and my head enflamed. At once every sense was assaulted. My nose filled with the stench of death, my ears heard whispers in every language and my eyes seemed to fog as my tongue and skin felt like fire. Then I felt the crippling sensation of my ‘Episode’ coming over me like hot iron being poured over my skin. The sensation attempted to claw its way out of my stomach and midsection in every direction. The feeling jostled and jolted as it climbed my insides, higher and higher. When it reached my head I fell to my knees in agony. Try as I might to hold it in, I knew I was screaming. The whispers grew louder as the voices rang out in my head. I smelled fire all around me, cooking something that wasn’t quite dead. I opened my eyes and saw a figure standing before me, a creature with the torso of a man but the legs and massive head of a goat. In one hand it held a spear and in the other was the blackest snake I’ve ever seen. From behind it Shadows grew black on the walls before stretching outwards. The wall tore open as blood flooded from the open sores in the drywall and more creatures, like the first, stepped out awash in a crimson sheen. They numbered five in total. Next, the floor drew my attention from them as long worms seemed to make a living carpet that lengthened and reached for me, grasping at my extremities. Where they touched me they burned hot as coal. I attempted to launch myself away from their painful grasp but a hand laid to rest on my shoulder. “Are you okay” my host said from above me, only his voice seemed distant and impeded. I looked to him and saw his dark hallow eyes staring down at me, his mouth missing its lips and tongue, only jagged teeth moved with his words. “What happened?” I think he said but his voice was muffled beyond all recognition as another voice seemed to fill in for his. A dark voice, a deep voice, like a whisper, so loud in my ears as to make me want to rip them from my head. Then I noticed the darkness behind him move, no, stoop down as the sixth goat man lowered itself as to be seen from behind his shoulder. It was then that I tore myself free from the floor and pushed past the man that had led me there and found my way outside and into the yard where I crashed down to the ground and breathed deep feeling the world around me begin to fill with light again. “Do I need to take you somewhere?” I heard, still whispered, but also in my host’s voice. I rose to a crouching position and looked to see him walking towards me. His face regrowing its lips and his eyes began to reshape themselves. But the goat man only followed him. It began to flicker like smoke and then began to shrink away. Upon closer inspection I saw that it was not shrinking but receding! The smoke began to lose it’s form and flowed back and into the man before me, leaving nothing behind but waves in the air like heat coming off of a road in summer. Again he asked me if I was well and again I said nothing. Only caught my breath. He began to approach. I had to act, he was already gone, nothing but a demon husk to assault the living. I waited until he got close and then I leaped upon him, knocking him to the ground. He screamed and cursed but I wouldn’t let him go. Fury had taken me and without a weapon I began to claw at him and bite. He attempted to break free, to push me off but I knew that if he got back to his lair I could not best him. He hollered out and attempted to reason but with its power not manifested fully it knew it was no match. Finally I tore at its neck and blood sprayed my face from the wound I had inflicted. It screamed an unearthly scream and made noises no animal has ever made as I pushed away from it. It flailed and kicked and attempted to flee but after a few moments it stopped moving and all was quiet.
Shortly after, the police arrived. I don’t blame the neighbors, it must have been quite unsettling to see that encounter. And I don’t blame the police or the judge because after all what else were they to think with what they saw. I knew that they would never be able to see the good thing that I had done, so I plead guilty and I said nothing about my visions to anyone. This is in fact the first time I’ve ever mentioned it, little less write it down. And now that I have, I feel somewhat relieved.
Ever since arriving here I’ve been playing up the whole “insane” card. I’ve told false stories that I would, purposely, changed later on. I’ve said that I heard voices (that one wasn’t entirely a lie) and I would constantly be ‘missing’ my medication, though it does seem to stop my “Episodes” from being quite so frequent. The only down side is that the meds make me see other things, than just the visions, and I talk to myself more when I’m on them. Otherwise no-one here knows that I lied about being mad, because I don’t want anyone to know that I’m not. In a few years I’ll have miraculously “recovered” and will be allowed to leave here. So, until then, I’ll bide my time.
*Microphone turns on*
(Dr. Harmond)
Hello, this is Dr. Harmond. I’m sorry for the late introduction to this audio recording but the patient was already telling us so much more than we’ve ever gotten from any of his sessions with Dr. Freedman and I didn’t want to interrupt.
Now that was a patient by the name of Mr. Charley Davis who has been admitted to this facility after pleading guilty to murder in the first degree and successfully pleading insanity in front of a tribunal. He is a remarkable case of schizophrenic dementia where he has concocted an entire world of demons and evil in order to fulfill a sense of purpose and importance in himself.
It is important to note that the patient was given a journal at the beginning of today’s session to write his story down and keep it to himself, as his own personal diary (for further study at a later date). But the interesting thing is that, while seated in front of the journal all this time and staring at the pages, he did not write down a single word. He simply has been speaking the words out loud. Which, of course, is the reason for the late introduction. This indicates a highly creative mind while at the same time indicating a highly delusional mind. A mind that will, more than likely, see these blank pages at a later date and then assume some form of tampering by myself, the staff, or one of the “Demons”.
The man that Mr. Davis killed was a man by the name of Daniel Lucient. Daniel had, apparently been a practitioner in the occult a number of years ago. Now it is possible that Mr. Davis found out about these practices and became enraged, as he himself seems to feel he is a ‘demon hunter’ and would be horribly offended by anyone who knowingly attempts to commune with other worldly figures. It is however unlikely that the two would’ve seen each other on their collective way to work as neither of them were employed anywhere whilst this series of events were taking place. Mr. Davis was homeless, without any known abode to speak of and no relatives on this side of the country. And Mr. Lucient had, in fact, just finished moving twice but both times to an apartment with a close proximity to a Satanic church.
Now, as for the “Episodes” (or as Mr. Davis calls them ‘visions’) I can verify that he does seem to under go strange fits of stress at times. But only when in close proximity to certain individuals. Certain patients seem to set him off instantly while a few of the orderly’s seem to have more of a “slow-burn” effect of him. He seems comfortable around most of the doctors in the institution, though he still seems hesitant to speak around all but Dr. Freedman. The curious thing is how he will have fits while, the certain people that trigger him, are around. Even when he ‘should’ have no indication that they are present. He has even been able to identify certain persons while they are wearing a disguise or even on the other side of a wall. This all of course shows the truly bright and creative mind that Mr. Davis has to be able to create such a convincing world. Sometimes I, myself, will wonder…
*A Door opens*
(Dr. Freedman)
How’s our boy doing?
(Dr. Harmond)
Dr. Freedman! I wasn’t expecting you.
*Door closes*
(Dr. Freedman)
Well normally Charley’s my responsibility so I was just checking in, seeing how the journal was going.
(Dr. Harmond)
Actually I was just…
*Charley Davis Screams*
(Charley Davis)
Oh God, what’s happening? Oh God, oh God!
(Dr. Freedman)
What’s going on? Has he been doing this very long?
(Dr. Harmond)
No, he was fine a moment ago.
*Intercom turns on*
(Dr. Harmond)
Mr. Davis? What’s the matter?
(Charley Davis)
Something’s here! Something’s coming!
(Dr. Freedman)
Charley, I need you to describe what you’re seeing. Like in session.
(Charley Davis)
The…the walls! The wall are turning into…something. It’s like their alive. It’s skin! The walls are turning to skin and their peeling away! Oh God, I can see muscles and bone beneath!
(Dr. Freedman)
What else Charley? Do you see anyone, do you see him?
(Charley Davis)
I see blood. It’s pooling around my feet! It’s rising!
(Dr. Harmond)
Should we get the orderly’s in here?
(Dr. Freedman)
No, he’ll be fine as long as he doesn’t see ‘him’.
(Dr. Harmond)
Him, who?
(Dr. Freedman)
The sixth Goatman. At least, that’s what he called him in our sessions. Not sure why.
(Charley Davis)
Its at my knees! The ceiling! The ceiling is gone!
(Dr. Freedman)
Listen to me Charley. It’s not real, remember? It’s all in your head. You need to calm down.
(Charley Davis)
…
(Dr. Freedman)
Charley?
(Dr. Harmond)
What’s he looking at?
(Dr. Freed man)
Charley, are you…
(Charley Davis)
It…it’s an eye… The ceiling is an eye…and it’s looking right at me.
(Dr. Harmond)
What’s he…doing?
(Dr. Freedman)
He’s walking around, watching the “eye” follow him.
(Charley Davis)
OH! No! No! No! No! There’s something in the blood, the blood is up to my waist now and something just touched me! It touched me!
*Charley Davis Screaming*
(Dr. Freedman)
What’s happening? He’s…hovering.
*Doctors Harmond and Freedman Shuffling around*
*Charley Davis Screaming*
*Walkie talkie turns on*
(Dr. Harmond)
We need security in observation room 6, now! Something is happening with a patient.
*Charley Davis Screaming followed by thrashing against the walls*
(Dr. Freedman)
How the hell is this happening! He’s soaring through the air!
(Charley Davis)
Oh God, it’s got me! It’s taking me with it! It hurts! It hurts!
(Dr. Harmond)
How can he move like that? His legs aren’t even touching the ground…
(Dr. Freedman)
He’s bleeding! How is he bleeding?
*Walkie Talkie cracks*
(Security)
The door won’t budge! I’ve sent for a crowbar but it’s not even locked!
(Dr. Harmond)
Keep trying!
*A thud as Charley Davis falls to the floor*
(Dr. Freedman)
Wait! He’s stopped!
(Charley Davis)
Doctor Freedman! Help me! Help me! He’s here! Oh God, he’s here!
(Dr. Freedman)
Do you see him Charley?
(Charley Davis)
…He’s…
(Dr. Freedman)
Charley?
(Charley Davis)
He’s behind the men outside the door! He’s looking through them…at me…
*Massive crash as the door explodes*
(Dr. Harmond)
What just happened to the door!
*Walkie Talkie cracks*
Security? Security!
(Whisper)
Why did you run Charley?
(Dr. Freedman)
What is that? My head!
*Charley Davis Screams*
(Charley Davis)
No, not you! I killed you! You have to go away! I killed you!
(Whisper)
You lied Charley. You lied to cover your sins. You lied to escape punishment. You lied, and made a nice bed for me. I love liars.
(Charley Davis)
No!
*Charley Davis Screams*
(Dr. Freedman)
Charley? What happened?
(Dr. Harmond)
It just…took him…he’s gone…
*Fire alarm sounds*
*End of Recording*
Recording transcribed by: Laurie Cabot
