Camp Blue Jay

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Backstory
This pasta is based heavily off of John Wayne Gacy, including using images of him to convey the realness of the pasta.

The Pasta
Camp Blue Jay

I never looked into stories about deaths or murders but this one caught my attention  more than any other. The headlines were "Mysterious deaths at local camp begins to catch national interest." The camp in question was called Camp Blue Jay and it wasn't very far from where I lived.

This article was published back in 2004, so tracking down the counselors or kids was rather difficult. I did find one counselor named Blake Jernigan, whom was interviewed in the article I mentioned.

I looked Blake up in the phone book and on Google maps, but no information appeared. I eventually found some old phonebooks from 2004 in my parent's attic, and found his name, and he lived relatively close by.

So I got directions to his house and followed them. The house was overgrown with weeds crawling up the siding, and infesting the yard. Ivy was finding its way through every crevice along the brick chimney at the front of the house. I walked up to the front door and knocked, and waited for about a minute or two, but no answer. I knocked again and I glanced over at my car, which was still running. As I glanced, I noticed a curtain in the house move, as if someone were looking out at me. I began to bang on the door harder and ring the doorbell. Finally a man answered the door, but he appeared to be scared. He was obviously a recluse. He was pale with redish brown hair and with a very thick beard.

“Hi, I was wondering if Blake Jernigan still lived here? It’s about his experience at Camp Blue Jay?” I said to the man. The man looked at me as if I were crazy and told me I should “keep my nose out of places where it don’t belong”. It was at this point where I thought that he would slam the door in my face but instead he invited me in. “My name is John Jernigan. My brother Blake killed himself about a year ago.” he said. His house smelled of cigarettes and cat piss. “I’m so sorry to hear that. My name is Tyler Pierson. Did he ever tell you about what happened at Camp Blue Jay?” I asked him, rather reluctantly. “No,” he said as he turned to the kitchen, which was down the entrance hallway. “I was a counselor there during the murders as well.” I looked at him confused. “Wait who said anything about murders?” I asked. He gestured for me to follow him into the kitchen.

The kitchen itself was rather clean, to my surprise. To the right of the door was John, sitting at a circular table with three other chairs underneath. I pulled one out and sat down as John began to light a cigarette. “Well it all started about the second week of camp….”

CHAPTER II: CAMP BLUE JAY, 2004

I was a counselor at the age of 17, which was younger than all of my peers. The camp was big in the sense that the main cabins were the size of mansions. Each age group had their own cabin, and the girls were separated from the boys and so on. In the main cabins, there was a giant study area in the entrance and a kitchen behind a privacy wall. There were picnic tables all along the foyer and bookcases along the walls to the left. I’ll draw you a picture:



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We always served breakfast, lunch and dinner at the main cabins, and during free time some kids would come in and read the books that we had or they would bring their own books that their parents sent them. Anyways, at dinner on the first day, I sat with the ten year olds and they were talking about fishing and what they caught earlier that day. I looked over at Blake, who was with the 7-9 year olds, but he didn’t notice that I looked at him. Well, as the night went on we made the kids go to bed at around 9:30 the first night. As the counselors were settling into their bunks we heard a scream come from the girls cabins. I went with Amy, one of the girl counselors, to go look to see what the girl was screaming about.

We walked to the girls cabins and saw all the kids crowded around something, some of them throwing up as they ran away from the crowd. We pushed the kids out of the way to find a little girl, mauled and gutted on the ground. Amy turned away into my chest and started to cry. I told her to go back to the cabin and call the police. As she was walking away, We heard a bear roar in the distance. Bears don’t usually come around here, but if they did, I doubt one would do this to a girl within a couple of minutes. “Did that thing do that to her?” Amy asked me. “No," I replied, "there’s no way a bear would. Go call the police while I get these kids back to bed.”

I was holding back the vomit. I walked into the nearby girls cabin and grabbed one of the extra blankets and covered up the disfigured corpse with it. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

It took about twenty minutes for the police and paramedics to arrive. We were questioned as the coroner took the girl’s body away. The police were asking us what we were doing and where we were when we heard the scream. Well everyone’s stories aligned so the police told us to watch out for bears and told us to tell the kids that the girl is fine, and she’s in the hospital.

Why should we lie to these kids? Majority of them saw what she looked like. Her intestines were pulled from her stomach, her chest was ripped open, and her neck was ripped open. The police obviously knew something that they didn’t want to tell us.

I didn’t sleep that night at all. I was scared for the rest of the summer. Amy probably didn’t sleep either, but I didn’t want to ask her. She already seemed on edge at breakfast. My brother and Matt, the two senior counselors, went up to the front of the dining room area and told the kids that the little girl was fine, and in the hospital. Small bits of conversation arose and died down, as the two counselors made new rules about leaving the cabins. Matt and Blake walked back to the counselors table and sat down.

I walked out of the main cabin and saw something fluttering in the distance. It was a black balloon, tied to the stair railing of the cabin that the little girl was from. I thought it was something the kids did out of respect. So the rest of the day went on as normal, but with counselors escorting the groups to their next activity rather than letting the kids walk free to them.

At dinner, the counselors all began to talk to one another about the balloon tied to the railing at the little girl’s cabin. All of us decided that we shouldn’t raise the issue to the kids and that we should probably forget about it. All of the kids were talking about their activities, or the events of the night before.

That night, the counselors were making sure the kid’s cabins were locked after they were sent to bed, and the counselors put walkie talkies in each of the cabins so that the kids could radio them if they needed to use the bathroom or not.

At around 10:30 that night, Matt noticed that the lights were on in the ten year olds’ cabin. He tried to radio the cabin, but there was no response; only static. So he and I when to go look to see what was happening in the cabin. We went down to the cabin and were about to knock on the door when we heard the boys screaming. We unlocked the door and ran in to find the boys were telling ghost stories about this killer clown named Binky. We asked if we could listen to their story about Binky the clown.

Jason, the boy telling the story, said that Binky was an escaped psycho that like to butcher little kids. He said that Binky is watching them now, and that when Binky kills the kids, he places balloons on the porch of the murdered. “Jason,” I said, “B-Binky isn’t real, is he..?” I was legitimately scared. I knew what killed the girl wasn’t a bear. Then I thought about it, if Binky was real then why wouldn’t the cops have told us? “Yeah of course Binky is real.” Jason said snootily, “He escaped from the asylum like ten years ago. According to the 5th graders, he’s been living around here.” “You’re not scared are you John?” asked Matt, who looked as if he was about to laugh. “It’s just a ghost story”. I waited until Matt and myself were gone so I could tell him the strange correlation between their “ghost story” and what happened last night.

“Matt didn’t you notice that the stor-” Matt cut me off before I could finish my sentence “John just chill the fuck out dude, it’s a story. Maybe the boys put that balloon there when we were all at breakfast.” I didn’t think about it that way. Maybe they did put the balloon there, maybe they didn’t. But I wanted to investigate this “Binky” a little further.

The next day arose, and I finally slept through the night. I still had thoughts on Jason's story though. It seemed a little too real. Maybe I'm just crazy and scared from what happened the other night. I can't get that image out of my head. I had to find out whether or not this "Binky the Clown" was actually a real person or not. I had to have some closure on this.

I said that I wasn't feeling too well, and Blake said that he would take my kids for the day. Of course I was lying to research this "killer clown" but I couldn't have done it while having to watch the kids. Besides, I still get paid anyway. I used the counselors computer to google "Child Killers in Illinois", and the usual suspects appeared, like John Wayne Gacy. But the problem with Gacy is that he was executed by injection in the 1990's.

But to my surprise there was a news article that was published in 1994 that said there was a serial child killer named Nathan Holder that had escaped prison. Holder killed 17 children and is accused of killing 30 more.



All of his victims were killed violently by being gutted and drained of their blood by slitting their throat. After he killed the kids, he would rape their rotting corpses and after he finished he would throw them into a well in his back yard. In 1987, Holder had left town to go to a buisiness meeting in New York and had his neighbor watch his house for him. Well his neighbor went over to give Holder's dog water, but the faucet in his kitchen wasn't working. So his neighbor remembered there was the well in the back yard. When he pulled the bucket full of water back out, he looked in and found a small hand in the bottom of the bucket. He then called the police and Holder was arrested within a week. All of the recent child disappearences were linked to Holder as dental records showed that it was the missing children. Holder admited to all of the murders and said that he kidnapped the kids in by dressing up as Binky the Clown and luring them into his house.

All I could say was, "Holy shit."

I couldn't bring myself to tell the other counselors. They wouldn't believe me. I should've told them sooner. But I didn't. All of the deaths that happened at Camp Blue Jay were my fault in a way.

Dinner came along and all I could think about was Binky. I saw the fucker everywhere. Amy looked at me with concern and asked if I was okay. I wasn't. "Yeah I'm fine. Why?" She said she was just wondering. I was concerned that I was coming off as crazy and that if I told anyone what I learned today they would't believe me.

So I kept my mouth shut.

I eventually excused myself from the table and walked outside onto the deck. I followed a path down to the lake and began skipping stones. I noticed a bright colour walking in my periphrial. I look and see Binky. I blink and now nothing is there. I am losing my mind. No doubt.

(UNFINISHED)

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