Humans of Southern Indiana
(1/3) "How long have I been doing it? Well, it's hard to say. I've been slaughtering innocent civilians throughout the tri-state for as long as I can remember. It's honestly difficult for me to recall a day when I didn't strangle a passerby with copper wire or blow away a biker with a rocket launcher. It's just my thing, I guess. Can't fault me for that, you know? My mother, she always said, 'Cleaton, you be you and you be strong,' and that's, well that's what I'm doing. She's a tough, Southern Indiana woman, and I love her for that."
"I'm doing pretty well now. I have a nine-to-five job at the used-tire store, and it's fine. I can't ask for much more than that. I still have time to be me. You know? I have a few hours every night to do my thing, if you will. Make bombs and distribute them throughout the neighborhood, gut a few vagrants with my homemade scissors, cut my signature message into their chests, etc. I guess I can thank my mom for that. Plus, the shop has a great employee discount. I can get 50% off tire irons. It really comes in handy when I get the occasional hankering for clubbing some midnight joggers outside of Willard Library."
(2/3) "My home life? Well, it's always been pretty quiet. Even more so recently. My mother's doctor stopped giving her the medicine, so she has to make it herself now in our basement. It's been keeping her skinny. Healthy. She's her own doctor now. That's what she says, anyway. But I'm not allowed in the basement. And that's fine. I have my own thing going on in the attic. Bones, skulls, jars with ears and eyes in them, etc. You know the drill. I just don't get to see her as much anymore. And it gets real hot up there. It's like an oven in the summer. I get real angry when I get hot. Kind of makes me want to go kidnap someone and bury him alive or something. (sigh) Maybe I should get a hot dog from that stand on Franklin street or something first. I'm pretty hungry."
(3/3) "My father left us when I was fifteen. I was hurt for a while. Mother and I both were. And I'm not going to lie to you. I struggled for a few years. But then I..I 'found my passion,' as they say, and that's where most of my efforts went. They really helped me to just, you know, forget about the whole 'losing my dad' thing. Whether it's stabbing sleeping homeless men in the alley behind Hammerheads or ringing the neck of strangers by the dumpster in the parking lot behind the shop, it all helps. And I'm thankful that I at least have that. So....what are you doing tonight?"