“Hey man, do you want to hear a story?”
I slowly opened my eyes. It was probably around seven in the morning and I was dead tired. My roommate was already dressed and sitting on his bed.
I struggled to speak, “Uh… yeah. Sure.”
My roommate began:
“So when my dad was about ten years old, he lived in a nice little suburban town. He was really good friends with all his neighbors, as his parents were socialites. There was one neighbor that his family loved in particular. The man’s name was John. He used to come over and bring the family meals or cookies. He seemed to be a relatively lonely man.”
I started to drift back to sleep. This story was pointless.
“He was so lonely that my grandparents recognized that in him and invited him over for dinner every single week. This allowed them to keep up their social activities with their neighbors while doing some good in return; my grandparents were really generous people.
“My dad was always afraid of John; he was shy in general so it was hard for him to make friends. After fifteen or so dinners, he started to talk to John more fluently. Conversations weren’t sparse or one word answers. He started to become friends with John.
“One day, when my grandparents went out to dinner, they asked John to watch my dad while they were out. John gladly agreed and asked them if they needed any sort of other favors. By this time in their friendship, the three adults were very close friends and loved spending time together.”
My roommate continued talking and I was forced to sit up and listen. Things seemed to be getting mildly interesting.
“So my grandparents dropped my dad off at John’s house and went out to a party. My dad was bored and nervous, so John did his best to entertain him. John was an entertainer at heart. He loved to make people laugh. Eventually, he did some magic tricks and jokes for my dad and they were both cackling with laughter and rolling all over the floor.
“After awhile, my dad asked for some water. All the laughing made him thirsty.” My roommate chuckled. “John gladly got him the glass, but as soon as he handed it to my dad, things got really weird.
“John asked my dad if he was feeling okay. He started asking odd questions like if my dad was excited. My dad’s responses were normal at first, but the questions kept getting odder and odder that he began to stammer. At this point John tried to calm my dad down and told him that if he remained calm he was going to show him a surprise. My dad, slightly curious, asked what the surprise was and John told him that he would have to show him in the basement.
“John attempted to grab my dad’s arm and walk towards the door to the basement but my dad ducked away and ran right out the front door. He started freaking out and kept running until he reached a friend’s house a mile down the road.”
I sat there, nearly paralyzed. I almost just shrugged a story about attempted child rape off like it was a pointless anecdote. “What happened?” I asked.
“Well, my dad told his friend’s parents that he got scared of John and ran there instead. They told him he didn’t have to go back and he could remain there until my grandparents returned from their party. About two hours later, my grandparents returned home and got a call from my dad’s friend’s parents that said he was at their house. They picked him up and my dad told them the story of what happened.
“My grandparents were of course unsure as to what happened since it was coming from a ten-year-old, but they decided that the best course of action was to cut John off from their social life. A week later, John was arrested.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. Why the hell did he just tell me this story?
“Their neighbor, was John Wayne Gacy.”
“What.”
“My dad almost died. He was the last boy Gacy had contact with. I almost didn’t exist. Isn’t that weird?”
I didn’t know what to say.
Written by The Hooded Werewolf
Content is available under CC BY-SA