 It has been a whole week since the start of this living nightmare. A whole week since I learned of the signature of the insane, the demented evil people which live among us. What possesses people to commit such twisted acts of violence is beyond me. All I know is that I wasn't lucky enough to have an insight into such horrific rituals. I guess it all started at the party. See, we had a party to celebrate my father's birthday. Everyone was invited, my father's coworkers, the family, I even invited a few of my own friends over. My dad allowed me to, as otherwise I would not have many people to talk to. I am rather shy, you see. An introvert as my father calls it, I don't like talking to new people. But that's beside the point. I'm going off track here. Well, the party was great, we all enjoyed ourselves. No, it wasn't the party itself which turned me into this mess, it was what I was given during the party. A tape. A VHS tape to be precise. A single VHS tape which has completely destroyed me, robbed me of my happiness, and replaced my thoughts with the horrific images which the tape contained. It hurts to type this, it just brings back the memories of the tape. All I want to do is forget, forget that bammed tape. I would give anything, anything to erase the images from my mind. I was given the tape by a friend of mine, a friend which I invited to my dad's birthday party. He didn't seem himself at the party. Not at all. Usually he was rather sociable, quite the party animal. But at the party, he was rather quiet, he isolated himself from everyone. He sat alone at the other end of the room, not talking to anyone. For the few times that I spoke to him, he only gave vague, one-word answers, and sometimes just completely ignored me. I decided to just stay away from him, thinking that something must have happened to cause him to be upset. Perhaps he broke up with his girlfriend. Well, this is what I initially thought at the time. At the end of the party, he approached me. He tapped my shoulder, and when I turned around, he handed me a VHS tape. He told me that it belonged to me, that I lent it to him years ago. I didn't recall ever lending a VHS tape, especially as I haven't owned a single VHS tape since I was just a child. I dismissed this thought, thinking that I must have forgotten lending him a VHS tape. When I said goodbye, he just turned around, stared ahead, and walked out the door, saying nothing. The day after the party, I wanted to watch the tape, to see what feel my head lent. Even to perhaps experience some nostalgia, if it was a childhood film. I went into my garage, to look for my old VHS player. It took a while to find it, but I eventually saw it under some old clothes. The VHS player had been completely covered in a thick layer of dust, so I wiped it off. The dust caused me to cough and heck. Once I got ahold of myself, I brought the VHS player into the living room and set it up near the TV. I grabbed the tape and proceeded to push it into the VHS player. It started it off like a very old-fashioned film, the quality was rather grainy, and not the greatest. But I thought that, as it seemed to be an old-fashioned film, it was to be expected. A countdown started, which was in black and white. It counted down to 10, and at 10, a scene of a human hand was displayed. The hand was covered in blood, and appeared to be cut off from the arm. The fingers still moved despite this. The fingers moved together, in a grass-like position, as a hand covered in a surgical glove brushed past it. The countdown continued, but the scene of the hand played once more, but this time for only a second. The countdown continued again, but cut to static once reaching 5. I was shown a blue screen, with play written at the top of the screen, as if the actual film was now going to start. I sat back, took a deep breath and prepared myself for what I had ahead of me. Was this a horror film of some kind? No, it couldn't have been, I have never seen this movie in my life. Perhaps this was some kind of sick joke? I didn't have much time to ponder, as the next scene started. It started with four girls, they looked about eight or nine years of age. One was jumping up and down excitedly, like you would expect from a small child. The other three were sitting on the couch, smiling and laughing. They seemed happy. They wore party hats, which told me that this was a home movie of a kid's birthday party. The quality was of that you would expect from an old home movie, although the audio and video seemed to mess up, causing blue lines across the screen, and odd out of place sounds. I figured that the tape was very old and faulty, and didn't think much of it. For a fraction of a second, some more footage played. I had to rewind it a couple times to figure out what it was. It appeared to be someone dressed up in a costume. In the end I concluded that it was some kind of clown costume, which was checkered black and white. The clown-like figure seemed to be pulling a knife out of a young blonde woman, who was lying on a table. When I paused it to get a closer look, she appeared to be covered in large wounds on her upper arm and stomach area, to which I quickly realized that the clown must have murdered her. It cut back to the scene with the four girls. The camera panned to the girls sitting on the left of the couch. The girl on the far left seemed a lot younger than the rest of the girls. She was stood up on the couch, holding the other girl's hand for support. The scene cut to all the girls sitting on the couch. I had a clear view of all of them this time. They were laughing and two of them were dancing a little. The innocence of the scene was reassuring, almost comforting, but I knew this feeling was bleeding as the scene of the clown repeated. His face seemed to be covered with a mask, a mask which resembled a skull. After pulling the knife out of the woman lying on the table, he slowly turned his head towards me. He stared ominously, which gave me the overall feeling of dread and terror. The footage then jumped and distorted, as he moved very quickly towards the screen, while producing a blood-curdling sound, like a growl, an awful, devilish growl. The combination of the growl and the sudden movement towards the screen sensed my heart racing. The next scene was shot in a completely different place. It featured a different young woman lying down on a bed, covered by a white sheet. Beside her was a detached hand surrounded by a small puddle of blood. From this I figured that this was a continuation from the hand scene at the very beginning. A mysterious looking man walked slowly around the bed where the tortured woman was laying. The scene abruptly cut to the clown's face for just a second, which made me jump, due to the unexpectedness of it. His face was right up at the screen, staring at me while steaming some kind of mischievous laugh or giggle. I turned away at the face. It was almost as if he was laughing at my misfortune. As if he was pleased with what he had done, pleased with his murders. And now, he was pleased that I was watching, entertained by the way I squirmed and flinched at the horrors of what was displayed. When I looked back, I was greeted with the ever so familiar countdown. It continued from where is left off when it cut off to static previously. It continued from for, but the four seemed to disintegrate as the background cut off to static. The background flashed and distorted as the clown's mask appeared in the background of the static, again, staring at me. The disintegrated four faded into another scene. I couldn't make out what the scene was, although, it looked very unearthly and somewhat disturbing. I didn't even want to know what it was supposed to be. Once again, the scene cut to static. For a fraction of a second, something else appeared on the footage. I re-winded and paused it. It was a man, a man who had appeared to have hanged himself. He had a noose around his neck, and was hanging several feet from the floor. I quickly pressed play as I didn't want to look at it any longer. I sat by the VHS player this time, in case another split-second scene were to play. I was right. I paused when the scene was played. What I was shown was a sink. A sink that was drenched in blood, with a knife lying crudely inside. I pressed play immediately, this tape was sick. The thought dawned on me as to why I was still watching. As much as I wanted to turn it off, natural curiosity drove me to keep watching. Did this mean I was sick too? Am I just as messed up as whoever made this tape? If there was truly something wrong with me, I wouldn't be bothered by all this, right? But I am bothered by this, hell. More than bothered by it. After rationalizing things, I pressed play, and continued to watch the tape, the tape which continued to keep me hooked, and glued to the screen. The footage of the man who had hanged himself was shown, once again. This time, the footage was played for a little longer, as a man spoke over. I tried to make out what he was saying, but as many times as I re-winded, I still couldn't make it out. What I saw next completely horrified and disgusted me, unlike anything else I had seen on this tape. It was the woman, the same woman who was covered by the white sheet earlier in the footage. A man was cutting into her arm with a knife. He kept cutting, cutting deeper and deeper, until the blood eventually began to seep out. The streaks of blood slowly ran down her arm, onto the white sheet where she lay. More and more of the red liquid poured out of the wound, as he sliced, deeper, more aggressively. He then started cutting into her wrist. He had to slice a few times, but once cut deep enough, a great surge of blood leaped out of the wound, all at once, as the hand was cut completely off. Unsurprisingly, it cut to static, and to my horror, once again, the scene of the hanging man was played. The entire scene lasted a full twelve seconds. For the entire twelve seconds, all that I stared at was the hanging man, as his body slowly swayed from side to side. Some music played in the background. I instantly recognized it. It was, you are my sunshine, but it sounded horribly eerie when played along with a scene like this, I just wanted to switch it off. After an agonizing twelve seconds, the tape finally ended. After the tape ended, I just sat there emotionless, for five minutes. Just staring, staring at a blank TV screen. I didn't even know what to think. This deep, empty feeling seemed to take over my mind, leaving me as nothing more than a cold shell. I felt horrible. I couldn't begin to describe the way I felt, but I had never felt so shaken up in all my life. If you want proof of this tape existing, I am going to post it here. Although I don't have a YouTube account of my own, a friend of mine was kind enough to upload the footage onto his account. To calm myself down after the tape, I got up off the couch and made a cup of tea. While doing so, the thoughts that crossed my mind consisted mostly of who were the victims. Who was the clown? The man in surgical gloves? I was driving myself nuts. I knew thinking over this wasn't going to improve my situation, but I wanted my questions answered. It was 3 AM, and I knew that my friend Harry, who gave me the tape at the party, would certainly not be online. As hard as it was to do so, I tried to forget about the tape, and try to get some sleep. I sure as hell needed it. After a very sleepless night, only getting an hour or two of sleep, I got out of bed, and immediately went onto my computer, signed into my email, and started composing an email to be sent to Harry. All that I asked was why he had given me the tape and who exactly was the clown, and victims in the video. Impatiently, I waited for a response. I decided to pass the time by going on all the usual websites I go on. I watched a few YouTube videos, checked my Facebook and finally, my Twitter. Before long, a few hours had passed. I checked my email and Harry had responded. My heart raced as I clicked on the email, anticipating the response I had received. What he had told me was rather shocking, and depressing, but also, surprisingly fascinating. This was his response. Hey Andrew. To answer your question, the clown in the video was in fact an old friend of mine. We met in high school. He was always a very lonely kid, not really having many friends. He just walked around the school alone all the time. Then there was the bullying. He always attracted attention because of the appearance of his face, always negative attention. His face was incredibly disfigured. He told me his dad used to abuse him. He cut his face with knives, which caused many deep scars along his face. He told me his dad beat his face with a hammer, during a drunken outburst. Because of this, his nose was shattered and out of place. His facial features were rather distorted. To the average stranger, it could be considered frightening looking. Anyway, because I felt sorry for him, I decided to befriend him. Big mistake. I regret the day I first spoke to him. I noticed there was something very, very wrong with him. He seemed to be obsessed with death and hurting people. He wouldn't shut up about it. He spoke nothing but hate, fueled by the rage that seemed to consume him. It was eating him up inside. It gradually got worse over time. He would often lash out at people, for no good reason. This one time, some boy at school simply looking at him. The psycho reacted by grabbing the boy by the throat. I didn't know what to do. He just held him there, then reached into his pocket, pulling out a pocket knife. He held the knife to his face, and slowly carved into his skin. The boy screamed in agony. The most disturbing thing about it is the way he smiled as the boy screamed. It was a devious smile, which showed pleasure and satisfaction from the boy's pain. I had to do something. I attempted to grab him from behind, but quickly realized that he was a lot stronger than I am, as he released from my grip, and threw me onto the floor like a rag doll. I stood up, based and hurt as he walked slowly towards me. I will never forget the look on his face. The shit-eating grin he possessed. The eyes. The eyes that burned with rage and desire. He lunged at me, missing my chest, but forcing the knife deep into my shoulder. The bastard his what caused the scar I now have on my shoulder. I couldn't tell anyone about it, not the police, not the teachers, no one. I knew he would get me back, he even told me that if I told anyone, he would kill me. I knew he would keep to his word, he's a lunatic, of course he would. I knew I had to keep my mouth shut. He hasn't got much better either, now that he's 35. The blonde woman in the video is in fact his wife, and the four girls, his children. He brutally murdered them all. It was all over the local news. He usually attacks the local neighbors, not really anyone outside the neighborhood. He catches them by surprise. No one suspects when he would attack next, who he would attack next. All we know is that once he has his victims captive, he likes to torture them, and document his rituals on VHS tapes. It's his twisted obsession. Oh, and sorry Andrew, but I cannot give you his real name, but all I can tell you is that he is nicknamed sister around my neighborhood. He gave himself the nickname. No idea why. He is known for writing the name on the windows of his victims' houses, before he attacks. You see, he messes with his victims before attacking. He likes to mess with their head, make them think they're seeing things. The name acts as a warning. After killing, he cuts open the abdomens of his victims, empties the contents and slices up the intestinal tract. He would spell out the name spester using the sliced pieces of intestine on the floor next to the body of his victim. Just recently, his acts of torture and murder were reported, and he was sent to a mental institution, labeled criminally insane, and a danger to the general public. We may be safe for now, but will he keep put? After reading the email sent by Harry, it all made sense. It was a rather long email, but it summed up everything in the video. Of course, except for the man that hung himself and the man wearing the surgical gloves. I sent another email to Harry, responding to what I read in his email, as well as asking the questions I had. He responded shortly after I sent the message. This is what was said. The man in the surgical gloves is still Schester, except not in his clown outfit and mask, but did you notice, you weren't able to see his face, even without his mask? Guess the lighting was tweet to not show his face. The man who hanged himself is in fact one of Schester's victims. He was such a nice guy, everyone knew him around my neighborhood, but he fell prey to Schester. It wasn't Schester himself who killed him. No, it was Schester's mental torment which killed him. Before he committed suicide, he kept telling the neighbors about seeing things. Seeing a clown. No one believed him, of course. They thought he was going insane. He told everyone about a clown standing outside his window, which would disappear when he was to take a proper look. He would hear giggles, low, subtle giggles. Giggles that were so very chilling, so very real. He kept seeing the name Schester always written on his window. As many times as he cleaned it off, it would always reappear. After months of Schester's antics, the man was truly losing his mind. He wandered the streets, with his clothes tattered and stained, complete with a beard. He staggered around the streets, day and night, buttering Schester, and the same name was written all over his arms. He would always sob, as he broke down into a tearful message cold night. Between the desperate sobs of anguish, all he cried out was Schester. He knew Schester was going to kill him eventually, so why would he want to give him the privilege when he could easily do it himself? He hung himself out of desperation to escape the hell of which Schester put him through. He was Schester's toy, Schester's entertainment. But now, he has escaped the clown's circus. He is free. Schester, shortly after the poor man hanged himself, broke into his house, and filmed his hanging body. This is the reason it appears on the tape. Just shows you the kind of warped freak he is. Reading Harry's email, it was clear that he seemed very different. He wasn't usually this, emotional. He was usually a simple, straightforward guy. But the writing style seemed off, since Harry never wrote in this way. What I also found rather odd is how he never told me why he gave me the tape in the first place. It's like he completely ignored the question. I'm going to have to find out and get to the bottom of this. I'll keep you updated. We may be safe for now, but will he keep put?