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Case #0101912 - Statement of Yancy King, regarding his experiences as an inmate in Happy Trails Penitentiary.
Statement given October 31, 2018.
Audio recording given directly by subject.
Statement begins:
I’se isn’t the best at makin’ speeches, so youse’ll have to forgive me.
I’d liked prison. Unlikely as it is, Happy Trails was my home. It wasn’t what most people is thinking of when they’se is picturing about a prison. I’se had had lots of friends there, and it was a luxurious place.
I’d been in there for, well, killin’ my parents. I’se was regretful, know that. I’se don’t regret goin’ to prison, though. Until, well…
I first saw it at night. A flash of blue and red light, outside my cell. I’se had woken up my cellmate, Heapass. His real name wasn’t Heapass, it was Ethan Nestor or somethin’ of the like and he was in for driving while high. I’se is goin’ on a tangent.
When I woke him up, he gave me a firm smack on the arm and told me to go’se back to sleep. He hadn’t seen nothing. Called me insane.
I’d seen it almost every night after that. A flash of colored light, outside my cell. Heapass never saw it. He’se had been very adamant that there wasn’t nothing there. I was just seein’ things. I’se had taken some time to talk to the psychiatrist that they’se had had there, but nothin’ was wrong. He said I was lyin’. I’m not lyin’, ya hear me?
Please keep making your statement, Mr. King. Also, please use the real names of your fellow inmates.
Statement continues:
O-oh, yeah. Alright.
So, I’se kept seeing it. Every night. Hea- uh, Ethan told me to stop waking him up for things that weren’t there. So I’se sat, awake all night. I’se didn’t admit this to any of my buddies, but I’se was scared.
It only got worse. The door of our cell started rattling something awful one night, and I’se swore that I’se saw a grey hand surrounded in that light that I’se kept seein’ gripping the bars. I heard Ethan roll over in the bunk over mine, and the hand retracted.
That wasn’t the last time I’se’d seen that damned hand. The nights that came after, it constantly rattled the door. The door always seemed like it was about to come off its goddamn hinges.
I’se had gotten pretty ballsy one night, and got out of bed. I’se had walked towards the hand. It wrenched out and grabbed my shirt, dragging me towards the wall. I’se could feel the cold bars against my face, and I looked to try and see the owner of the hand. I’se couldn’t see anything beyond the dark shadows in the hall.
The hand pulled me against the bars closer towards it, and I’se’d felt as if all the bones in my face was gonna break from the force.
Whistlin’ from a guard was what got that goddamn hand to let go of me. It let go’se of me’se with a hard shove and drew back, all leisurely like. Whatever it was, that thing wasn’t’se very worried about getting caught. Static filled my ears, but the sound sorta... faded away as the guard walked closer. He walked up and rapped on the bars with his flashlight, tellin’ me’se to get’se back to bed.
Next morning, I’se got nothing but a little shit from Ethan and a couple of the other guys in the men’s ward. Uh, Ward 23, if my memory serves me’se right. They’se was just angry that I had woken ‘em up while they’se was sleeping. I wondered if I’se’d just been havin’ re- uh, recurring dreams, and I had just sleep walked that night. It felt so real, though.
The dreams didn’t stop. I would ‘wake up’ to the bars rattling, see the hand and from the night of my ‘encounter’, I’se’d just… roll over and try and go back to sleep. There was a point where I’se saw a figure at the side of my bunk. Couldn’t move though, I guess it was just sleep paralysis. Scared the shit outta me at the time, though.
I got more and more tired every day. People noticed that I wasn’t singing anymore, that I’se wasn’t happy. I was dissociating, too. That’s what the doctor said.
I stayed out of my cell most of the time. I’se couldn’t think of it as a relaxing place to sleep in. It just became the place where my nightmares came to haunt me. I napped anywhere else; the floor, the lounge, the cafeteria, outside. I just couldn’t go back into the cell, and I wouldn’t unless I absolutely had to. There were a few nights where I’se’d spent the night in the infirmary. I’se hadn’t been lying, per se. I really was sick. Even the thought of spending the night in my cell sent me spiralling into nausea or a migraine. Ethan joked for the first few nights that it was nice to have his own cell, but he got worried. Ethan could be an asshole sometimes, but he cared about me’se and the boys.
I didn’t have nightmares when I slept in the infirmary. Maybe because there were doctors that had to stay awake to look after everyone. There weren't any bunks there, either. Just some cots with other patients. I told Ethan about my dreams. I told him that I’se had been too scared to go back in our cell because I’se didn’t want to face the nightmares again. Everyone at the prison weren’t the type to say that I should’ve just ‘manned up’, so I could freely admit that I was scared. Ethan was no exception, but I could tell he was concerned. He’d asked if I’se’d seen the psychiatrist yet. I told him I’se had. He replied that he wasn’t sure what else I should do, but offered his support, and I thanked him.
Over the next few days, I’se’d noticed that I’se hadn’t seen a lot of people around. Just people I hadn’t talked to before, but… they were just gone. ‘Sif they hadn’t ever been there. I’se’d asked about ‘em, but the guards and the other prisoners acted like they’d never met them. I’d even rifled through the documents, and the ones that belonged to the people that went’se missing weren’t there. What’s weirder is that my files weren’t there either.
Soon, over half of the prisoners were missing. Every time, their files disappeared. I’se’d began keepin’ tabs on everyone there, even the guards and staff. No one ever believed me when I said people were disappearing. They just said that “the joke had been going on too long.”
I wasn’t joking. I’m NOT joking. Youse’se got’se to believe me.
I can’t say if I do until you complete your statement, Mr. King.
Statement continues:
Uh, yeah… sorry.
I woke up in the infirmary one night, I’se’d been thirsty, I’se remember’se. I looked around and… everyone was gone. They’se’d disappeared.
And it was so, so quiet.
I got up, and walked out of the room. No one was there. It’se’d got colder, and colder, and colder. I’se’d begun to shiver, and I’se remember that I could see my breath.
I ended up in the cafeteria. Footsteps that I’se couldn’t hear before suddenly’se began to walk towards me. They echoed in the empty halls, laced with static. I’se’d craned my neck to look down the hall and- and I’se saw- I’se saw that goddamned light. All blue and red and white and black. Flickerin’ as the footsteps got closer. Louder. They was slow. Whoever, whatever it’se was, it’se wasn’t scared of me’se.
I fell onto my knees, prayin’ that it was all just a dream. I crawled over to the wall and covered my ears. The static was so loud and I-I didn’t know what to do. So I’se’d just thought I would hide and hope’se whatever was out there wouldn’t find me.
I’se knew who it was, just not what it was. It’se was obviously the guy from my nightmares, but… I’se didn’t know what it wanted.
A figure… maybe my’se height stepped into the cafeteria. It was wearin’ a suit I’se think. Might’ve been grey. The suit wasn’t’se the only thing that’se was grey. His whole body was grey. Grey, and bathed in that sickly red and blue light. The static was so loud that I’se thought that my’se eardrums might explode. Then, all at once, the windows, the mirrors, anything that was made from glass just… shattered. The figure walked towards me’se and then it just… stopped. It’se stood in the middle of the room, staring at me. It spoke in a real echoey voice, “It isn’t your time quite yet, but you’ll be back here soon enough.” The static stopped, and I’se’d been thrown into a pitch blackness. It was so much’se colder in there. I’se could feel my’se eyelashes freezing together. My’se whole body numbed and I feel like I’se was gonna freeze to death. Freezing to death is a nice feeling, y’know? It’s all warm and the cold just slides away. You don’t feel nothin’. But then it gets hot. I tried to take my’se shirt off, but I couldn’t move. I’se was so hot.
I’se can’t remember when I’se left the darkness. Everyone said’se that they’se found me against’se the wall of the cafeteria, shivering and curled up. Apparently’se I’se was cold to the touch, and- and I couldn’t open my eyes. I’se was moved to the hospital in town. The doc told me I’se had hyp- uh… hy- what is it called?
Hypothermia?
Yeah! That’s it.
Statement continues:
I’se’d stayed in hospital for around’se a week or two. When I’se returned to the prison, Warden Murderslaughter, I’se think’se his full name was Abott L-Levi Murderslaughter, told me that he’se wanted me to take my’se stuff and get out.
I did. I’se packed up my’se things, and got’se my old clothes back on. I’se hadn’t worn them for six years, and they’se felt tight and unfamiliar. Even… even after the nightmares, I’se hated leaving. There’se was too many people who I’se loved back there. People who I’se spended so much time with.
Visitations is every third Sunday. I just want to see them more, though.
The nightmares stopped after I left. But every once in a while, I’se can hear faint white noise, and see a flicker of the light, or a grey figure in the dark.
Statement ends.
Mr. King’s statement is a long, and rambling one. His accent (which is certainly not a natural one, as he was born and raised in Ohio), is thick, and hard to distinguish. I may need to write it out and re-record it for future reference.
His cellmate at the time, one Ethan Nestor, confirmed that he had seen bruising on Mr. King’s skin after the night of his supposed encounter in his cell where he was… “held against the cell bars by some supernatural force”. So we have that to go by. It was also confirmed by Mr. King’s hospital records that he did in fact have hypothermia, and some mild frostbite. He had not been in any cold areas, and it was summer during the time, so it is uncertain where he procured such conditions.
Most of the encounters in Mr. King’s statements were in his sleep and there were no witnesses, so this story is unlikely, however, I am strangely compelled to believe it. I’m starting to become very curious about this ‘figure’ that he saw, as it, or something similar, has been mentioned in several other cases.
I am unsure whether we can investigate further, as the warden has (very strongly) declined for an interview, and no disappearances were reported in Happy Trails Penitentiary.
End recording.