Disclaimer: These letters are fiction. They are meant for entertainment purposes and are only loosely based on real killers.
John Wayne Gacy, aka The “Killer Clown”. Few men illicit such revulsion as he. A rapist and murderer of young boys and men, Gacy buried his victims within the crawl space of his home – creating a morbid cemetery for all to walk upon. The stench of death permeated Gacy’s abode and drove away visitors with its rank pall. But something about Gacy drew people in. He was charitable, kind to strangers (unless you happened to be a young boy), and even enjoyed a short-lived political career.
But underneath the facade of normal, lived something so dark it would drive Gacy to be committed of more murders than anyone in the history of the US court system. That “something” was alternate personality, Jack Hanley. According to Gacy, Jack Hanley was the perpetrator of all things evil. Hanley was the wielder of hate and the holder of the violent sex drive that lead Gacy to sodomizing all of his young victims.
The Killer Clown claims that, upon blacking out, Hanley would take over and do his deeds. Gacy was completely incapable of controlling Hanley and knew not what the monster did. But Hanley knew of Gacy – to that end I have such an extraordinary delight to share. What you are about to read is a letter written by the hand of Gacy, but the mind of Hanley. This letter had been rumored to exist for years. Yours truly happened upon the letter in an old storage facility – long since abandoned.
This is the first time eyes other than mine have peered into the dark layering that made up the core of John Wayne Gacy’s abhorrent psychosis. I’m sure you will agree with me that this letter shows just how sick Gacy was in his prime.
You disgust me. But that you are reading this letter means you finally, and completely, understand my beautifully vicious plan. You once saw me from a distance, as if I were a stranger committing acts so vile you couldn’t possibly be part and parcel to their evil. I was nothing more than an infection. But that infection has finally made its way into you. Me. Jack Hanley. That’s right Gacy, you and I are one and the same.
I watched you Gacy, from the outside looking in, as you did everything you could to hide who and what you are. You blended in with a society that would rather grind you into paste and repair the soles of their shoes with your glue. And no matter how often you were kicked down and pulled apart, you returned, happier than ever to continue to be the clown prince of nothing.
Instead of wielding power to instill the fear of death into those around you, you cowered behind the make up of a clown. Instead of tasting delights of the flesh, you would rather entertain little boys and girls with your blow-up balloon animals and over-sized shoes. You’re weak and I’ve hated that I even knew you. But all that has come to an end. It took years, but I have finally figured out how to make you my puppet, my soddomite slave.
Flesh. It is the gateway to a paradise no God could ever repress. The delicious taste of nubile skin as it writhes and grinds underneath your ever-growing mass is a fruit picked from the tree of a many flavored heaven. The nectar of desire will pull you deep into the wells of darkness and I will relish every inch you give and every life you take. As I carve a dark path of ruin, you will smell the delectable stench of sex and death. Your resistance will crumble as quickly as a child’s resolve to candy.
Tucked deep within the recesses of your soul Is a nature you have denied. As you have slumbered over the last few years I have spent my time dancing around your sub-conscious, pushing those desires to the front of your mind. You might have noticed a new yearning for the flesh burning just underneath your consciousness. Every time you saw a young boy you couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to force yourself upon him. At the same time it repulsed you, it drew you in. So great was that tug of war, you found yourself violently hating the acts you knew you would inevitably, and willingly, commit – yet you couldn’t refrain. That violence vomited forth onto your young victims, bringing an untimely end to their innocent existence. Guilt would do its best to send your heart and mind repenting to a God you would no longer believe in. Every act you committed was a crime against everything you held dear… yet each moment you spent diving deeper and deeper into the desires of flesh brought you closer to a madness few have ever touched. When you finally did walk into those maddening waters, I drowned you and every hope you have ever entertained. I opened your eyes and helped you to see that life had a different plan for you all along. I reshaped your existence, re-birthed you into the John Wayne Gacy fate tried to deny the world.
Before you think, even for a moment, you would be given a choice – don’t. This path was preordained and cannot be escaped. Understand me fully, John Wayne Gacy, when you find your demise at the hand of the state appointed Grim Reaper, the legacy you leave behind will be that of a rapist and a murderer of young boys. No matter how you loathe what you will become, there is nothing you can do. You will hate yourself, you will want to hurt yourself – all to no avail.
You are but my puppet. Snivel and weep all you want, clown – Jack Hanley holds your strings and will eventually dance you down your last mile.
All my love,