"Friends with a Serial Killer"

I take time, to be a better man in this waste land...

the streets... thru The Eye of  THOR

2005 Whiteaker 7th street
I first met him at a friends house. "Sean" He walked up long black Kangaroo leather, he would say later trench coat and hat. His color was off right away and a energy around him of black rot deep inside and twisted all in a walk with a long gnarled walking stick that so resembled him crooked bend and a twisted deep in the darkish gray.  His face was young but whiskers lay unkempt a bit growing here and there to lend in some age. I never seen anyone do that much black tar Heroin cooking it in the room on tin foil, this horrid retching burnt chicken smell.
        My addict came out looking meth if possible still had me and so the lure for a moment burned into me like DEATH, pure suffering of magnitude, I did one breath and the death crept upon me palatable form of inner rot. I hated it, not like and addict says they hate doing drugs but like a person of the normal walking around weed smoker who says, "That weed tastes funny." as the "WHAT??" "PCP !?" which is like having a cement brick around your head while swimming in madness. NOT to be DONE! Scary stuff! No way! Take the gallon of vomit outside.
The underworld, being so close to addicts being an addict, having seen the suffering pure, and the rabbit chasers for life, those the street swallows we see of others, we don't.

      Time would go one and I would meet him again. I was a more less unusual construct of the streets, jail, addiction, and being who I was. I was known to be a man of deep faith and had a code I follow. I don't like stealing property from people yet, I was the beef jerky bandit the same spring 73 bags a mans got to eat, but at the same time no one ever went hungry in the "Hood" most of all the kids and the elders. I met the 73rd much later in college and he was hungry. I said "What?" and did as I always did gave to others when they needed it. I gave back and respected, I was uncle THOR to a bunch of kids and kept them safe. I kept many safe some still remember. They still are here to tell of the brush they had or a nodding, "Yes." The things we know hidden in the dark corners of the mind hidden in horror to real in what is 'The Game.' That is how is started. A sister sick on Heroin,'BTH' and me not able to see a person suffer in either way for many I had watched and they hit the time, "I am kicking." through clenched teeth I would learn 10 years later what it was as I detoxed of Klonipin wrongly given me, weeks upon weeks of suffering like a violent flu that never lets you sleep. It can kill and "No ONE!" can beat it without help. That being said, suffering and me are not friends and such those who suffer were my steads. It was then after being around him for a while I heard him say this. "I have never had a real friend in my life." He meant it as a human reaches out in a moment of social response to the action of life even when that persons reality is not, what we see, humans not as we would see, everything for him was funneled through his window. The longer I knew him when moments of solitude were managed over the summer this entry into his vision of humanity as he saw it, a thing, a bunch of animals things, thing's walking doing but nothing was real in his domain, vile movies touched it, video games built around death, violence, evil fantasies, and even cartons were closer. I looked at him and it was upon me. God told me simply, "Be this mans friend." I turned and still not knowing him to well yet seeing I told him, "You have a friend." A sister in the back seat Feather Town knew I would say that. That night we went to his old home and she got well the place was empty for a table he said was from the revolutionary war period worth 70,000 dollars. In that night I would observe things that later would be useful information detailing his personality. "Cartoons, is all I watch, nothing else." "Here I brought tacos." I knew that these tacos were very unusual gift from the Mexicans he did business with, for they were made in a way that told me that a Mexican who knew no English would make creating something for the men to eat while watching their shift. I found myself again in short order close to very powerful dangerous people. It would be my relationship with God that would be the only thing saving my life later that summer, this the gift a giving someone something the never had, and the balls to see it this 'Friendship' to the end. It is a thing to 'Have no Illusions' about humans, like in that movie when the, Psychiatrist who lived with the Guerillas thought to have gone mad, Anthony Hopkins grabs Cuba Gooding Junior's and throws him against the wall, and says, "I took away your illusions." as he held him by the neck. We can do thing with our hands and minds to help the world, but the reality is, the world can grab you by the neck anytime it wants and it can squeeze until you can't breath.

      Time went on and I finished my 1st class at Lane before full time enrollment in Culinary Program in the Fall and took the summer to run amok in a -place called "Using Solutions" a Recovery House on Washington street were part time users lived next to those in recovery? or man this lady "Throw Mama from the Train" stand in was the meanest fem 'Dry Drunk' which means something horrible I ever met in my life and she was a die hard closet racist to boot. What a house it is it's own story, but back to the house or apartment in question and the man who lived there. It was behind the adult shop on 6th in the ally where the stairs make a two sided lift on the ally the bottom apartment closest to the ally was his. He moved in and with in weeks was one of the top Heroin, Meth, and various other narcotics dealers. He didn't care how much traffic he took the whole hood by storm flooding the area with most of all black tar Mexican Heroin and controlling the flow and the rhythm of the heavies, this means he kept some very high, those close to him, Snaps, Strip, Jason, this one girl with the Greenest, Eye's and tanned light native skin, more close, John of the twins, then satellite dealers wanting in deep with easy numbers, and others here and there, he would build upon the rhythm and trap people deep in addiction waiting, stabbing, nodding, constantly after a month of his moving in. The business it was game until...

I want to take pause laying in a few words about what you are about to read for I have mentioned Serial killing and Mass Shootings in my writings having been way closer to the people involved than most, Kip Kinkle, the Serial killer working the river killing the girls, and the others who seem to flock the area of evil deeds, those who run amok in criminal intent loving cruelty and violence with twist, these are the people that follow the underground system of knowledge the sadistic back room under the rug knowledge of malic for some this is the moment they fear and crave never really able to be the psychopathic madness they emulate, but a branch of their own madness. These places are realer and closer than you would ever imagine; for, most psychopathic killers are nice working men on the outside, the white professional most least seen blending into America. That is what you may have heard as something called secondary evil, man made evil, then you have heard of primary evil that which is not of here, pure evil incarnate, pure destruction and hate, ethereally living on suffering and causing things to happen by the feeding of this appetite. You will see, if you do not know but have seen the things in night that go, 'Bump'; for,
"I am THOR, I 'Bump' back."

My addict had me, and Sean used it to have me come close. He wanted me in his inner circle closer and I would watch the addicts come go, those there living those as a couples, runners the 'Fiends', those constantly bringing in money or cash, the sales, then the times as he began shutting down, things got more trippy and strange things began then the first time I saw the pendant with the strange old etchings in it was in Sean's hand and he had just given it to, Strip, and he was still in pain recovering, I could see he couldn't walk well later, "Give it to Thor." they said.
I looked and they said in conversation, "Look out it!"
"I can get anyone?" they questioned him.
"Yeah give to Thor and see what it hurts on him." conversation turning to the many times they had seen or felt firsthand the pendants touch.
I looked and said, "Wait" and then "Now" and he tossed it.
I looked at them, and they waited for the pain that must come for it had happened to them to everyone.
     It landed in my hand and I already knew to some level what I was holding for I had to set myself before I even touched it. They looked again, "Nothing?"
"Nothing hurt?" Snaps asked with a look of total disbelief on her face.
I looked at him and said, "You want me to fix it?"
A look of fear came across his face, a blink, "No." his response clipped and in short he snatched it back quickly in hopes I did not close my hand and just carry out my threat. I would have for I did not like it but I was his friend.
    It all started coming together the next few weeks and my ability to read a situation began to work in earnest the first main clue was a big one even though I was still in the dark. I was sitting talking with him and he asked, "Thor, what kind of shovel should I buy for doing some work in tight quarters?" I would actually take him to the store
I looked at him guessing the worst that one of his people had overdosed and he needed to bury the body. I was right, but the whole story was unfolding. I began to watch the people around him what they were doing, how much Heroin was being used not as profit, how much for something else.

Heroin used for another purpose. Sean would load monster hits for people and then watch them do it all. It was a display. It was done in groups for show, the scare and it was done in private. It was also done the very young couple that lay in the fenced in area on the back porch. He fed them as much heroin as they wanted, more. The two of them not much more than twenty would be there stabbing their selves for hours until they could get a hit. I watched sort of waiting to buy some weed. I was high. In that house everyone was high, Meth, Heroin, Cocaine, Crack, and Weed. I sat and watched them froth at the mouth speaking in mumbles, nodding then, licking spilt blood mixed with heroin from their leg and needles. You can't imagine, but it in itself is a horror, watching this type of suffering.
It is this, this horror, this suffering, this souls in the breach due to un-human reality. If you use heroin you can keep increasing until you are what they call in the rhythm. It is a place so removed from reality that it harbors the vestiges of darkness for they hear the call of suffering. I am saying plain and simple a dark form, a spirit, a demon waited, to be called. I was in the room watching and listening the way I do. I was on the other side of the Huge Flag carrying the Swastika with blood squirts from needles on it, and their were 4 people in the other room. Stripes, Snaps, A green eyed girl very pretty with black hair, "S" and Jason. Sean had given "S" a huge hit one so big she stuck the needle in her back and slowly "Muscled it" they say. While this was going one Sean, and the other 3, one being her "Hoodie" boyfriend who was stimulating her sexually. I will pause to say this is a world of addiction drug use deep for he had everyone deep into the rhythm, so when she did her hit the orgasm can with it. It was during this process that the room changed, it got in form hazy, dark in shadows deeper, the light was just plain dimming from the window, and then it stopped. Sean did something behind the flag and then said, "It's THOR!" His voice now angry an emotion he never showed emotions, he was a sociopath, they don't show emotion. "It won't come while THOR is here."
"Get him to leave>" Jason said, But Sean's grunt said that wasn't happening. Time went forward faster for he kept kicking more and more heroin on the street and the Mexicans were giving it cheap. He was nearing 1/2 lb a week or more, and much was used.

"Rats" the words dripped from his mouth like acid. His friends on the porch had turned to animals and his every word towards them was vile. The couple, his roommates and partners the couple were still there, but didn't even hear his words anymore. They waited for the heroin and did more and more. I saw them one last time. They were holding each other, they both had abbesses and the male had a huge one in his main chest cavity over his kidney. I gave him a short examination and said, "Go to the hospital or you will die."  He did not. I like to think they died as I last saw them, in each others arms and in love. I am sure he gave them one more big hit to kill the pain.
"Rats" "Vile dirty scheming loathsome, Rats!"
I caught Snaps and Strip away from the apartment a few days later. I had been waiting to catch them.
"He is going to kill you!" I went right at them in full mode of, 'I am really pissed off and you will listen.' they listened, "What happened to the couple?" "You are next!" with my finger pointing in their face. They listened, and got away, it was not easy. They were both so deep that stopping could almost kill them. Sean called me in an exasperation telling of a robbery and I went and hunted down Jason and 'S' in a hotel room got their runner on the steps and made him take me up. I had given her a silver dollar to protect her, but has is it's own story. I looked at them when I found them and they were scared most of the items they had were not what I was told they were and I began to weigh the whole situation. I looked at them a hard, "Don't go back." I said after a few minuets. "Ever."
The police busted Sean in his car and then in the apartment, trafficking, and soon he was on the street. I would see him twice more. This time he was doing a hit and 'BTH' was there and she turned to me and said, "He asked you log ago as his friend never let him use needles." I looked at her and said, "He is a big boy considering what he just was doing in the game. He can do as he wants. They both looked at me, for as a friend on any level that is not what I would say. The friendship verbally at that time was ended. BTH left the room.
I looked over and he finally cursed in frustration, in that lose that and addict and a very lost person finds that hole and he looked up.
I looked right at him. "Sean I was your friend. If you every do this to this town again. I will kill you."
He looked right at me and he knew.
I went on and got my life together after that more than I had in a way I never had. "Amen"

I think about the ones. I think about those two young souls who parents will never know where they are. I think about the others.
The four, I see Stripes from time to time. He spends time with his kids when he can. Jason went to prison, that saved him. Snaps is kicking it still. I don't know is she made it after that too long she went back after a few years yet I saw her with a strong man. I hope she is still alive. "S" she made it, she was a survivor, running fast and far, and she had help.

If I walk down that alley, 6th street, behind the adult shop, by Taco Bell. I will pass the tan lattice where the porch is. I will stop and pray for the two, and say "I am sorry."

Amen
THOR