by David Vann
But then Jessica is looking around online, because she works in rehabilitating juvenile sex offenders, and she finds this guy on the list. He’s a former sex offender himself.
Steve exposes him as a hypocrite. Disgusting, a horrible, horrible person. Steve is vicious, relentless in his attacks. So vicious that Jim Thomas and Steve’s friends are shocked by the whole exchange. This isn’t the Steve they know. They can’t make any sense of this.
They don’t know Steve has gone off his Prozac. They didn’t know he was on Prozac in the first place.
Steve has an appointment at McKinley on October 16. “Steve stated that he noticed a worsening of his anxiety and obsessive compulsive thoughts with the discontinuation of the Prozac.” He’s still hiding most things from his doctor, though, and lying. “Steve stated that he had decided to quit his job in Indiana. He stated that the commute was too far and the job was taking too much time from his studies.”
Steve starts to spend a lot more time playing online shooter games with Mark. “Sometimes we wouldn’t follow the rules in games, whether it be team killing people [killing your own team]. Or we would pretend we were gay. Steve would do that to see how people would treat you differently if you were gay. And Steve would set up different rules, like making it so you could kill only with grenades, things that were not the norm and would make people mad, just to see how far you could push people, and to see how threatening will they get.”
They have voice communication set up online, so Mark can hear Jessica laughing in the background. It’s fun. But Steve seems to be aware, also, that something is wrong. He decides to write a paper on the connection between video games and mental illness. On October 19, he sends Mark an email asking for help: “Hey, I was wondering . . . if you happen to stumble across any articles related to video games and mental health policy, please send them my way. I am specifically looking for articles/journal articles that relate violent video games to a predisposition to chemical disorders, (and actual legislation or law bridging these two concepts together . . . such as the Illinois Safe Games Act struck down as unconstitutional just a few years ago). I’m working on research in this area and I hope to get together a publishable paper within the next few months on this issue, (hey, who knows . . . ). Anyway, I know you’re a news junkie like I am, and would appreciate any forwards if you find anything.”
“In Columbine,” Mark says, “they were playing Doom, he was playing Counter Strike back in 2002–3, and Grand Theft Auto, which obviously is the most violent game, there’s been studies done on video game violence, and maybe people with mental illness, they detach themselves from the emotional part? I don’t know if that’s true. There could be a combination. Maybe for some people it desensitizes. We would play Warhammer on PS3, Battlefield, Call of Duty 4, any of the team-based games. I didn’t tell the cops that, because you guys are just going to twist it around. But he wrote a paper on mental illness and video games, so I’m wondering if he saw a connection and knew himself.”
Steve’s relationship with video games is complicated, also, by his feelings about money and self-worth: “He always felt that he didn’t deserve things, material things,” Mark says, “because of his financial situation before school. He didn’t want to get into that situation again. In the group home, not having money. Spending money now on $300 game systems, maybe he felt he didn’t deserve it, right? Maybe he was worried that he would fall back. He had a problem with holding onto video game systems. He got me into Xbox 260 back in 2006, we both bought systems and played online, and then he sold it, just one day, he got out of it for awhile, said he needed the money for car repairs, then bought a couple other systems, sold those, went through a couple different computers, laptops, desktops, then he got an Xbox again in 2007 and we got back online, because he enjoyed playing online with me, and then up until fall of 2007, then he said he had a problem with the Xbox (later admitted he just didn’t feel he deserved it) and sold it, and he always had a fear that I’d get mad about that, so he wouldn’t tell me.” Steve sold all his things before his suicide attempts in high school.
“Then he got a PS3,” Mark says, “which I didn’t have, so we couldn’t play online with each other, so he tried to convince me to get one. This time he said he saw a psychiatrist about his problem of not holding onto things. And he said she had me engrave my name onto the equipment so it’s harder to get rid of. So he told me he was done, he was past that point, and he wasn’t going to get rid of stuff, and he recognized that he had a fear of hanging onto objects, that he sold them. He said he was confident now and knew he was okay financially. On that Tuesday [February 12, 2008, two days before the shooting], I told him I’d get a PS3 soon.”
Video games are not Steve’s most powerful addiction, though. A few days after his October 19 email to Mark, he goes on a wild spree on Craigslist in the Erotic Services and Casual Encounters sections. He meets a male professor from the biochemistry department at another university. They give each other blowjobs in the car.
He meets others, including “Kelly,” an undergrad at Eastern Illinois University in Charleston, Illinois. He describes himself, on October 22, as “very gentleman like and respectful in person, but have a wild side. I’m well educated and am confident in bed. I have a few tattoos, love giving oral, (in fact, I enjoy giving it more than any other act, even more than receiving . . . which I’m told is rare by guys), and don’t discriminate when it comes to fuller figures, different ethnicities, etc. I am DD free, clean and am in great shape.”
In a later email, he tells her, “We can meet at a coffee shop or something if that makes you more comfortable, but I can assure you that I’m not socially awkward or anything, (actually, I’m probably too social and talkative at times, but I know when to keep quiet, lol).” She says meeting in a public place first “isn’t absolutely necessary as long as you don’t plan to chop me up and store me in my freezer. So . . . don’t do that. :)” He reassures her, “I’m not a serial killer/psycho or anything,” and to seal the deal: “Just so you know, I am very oral, and love to give it . . . True story: I have a particularly strong tongue, as I used to play the Tenor Saxaphone when I was younger. I’ve never had any complaints :-)”
He drives to her apartment for sex on October 23, 2007. He has to share the bed with a dog, “a cranky old Yorkshire Terrier with a purple rhinestone collar and several missing teeth,” as she describes it, so that’s unfortunate. He’s had an uneasy history with dogs. He wrote a poem at age ten about the first one that died, titled “MESHA”: “Oh, yes! I remember the anxiety I felt when my dog perished into death. I remember when her beautiful lips used to lick me.”
Kelly is cute, long blonde hair, round and busty and wholesome, a bit of a hippie, but he also teases her about being a redneck, coming from a small town. They have a similar dark sense of humor, love the macabre. They’re both excited about SAW 4 coming out on Friday. He has a great time with her, fun sex, up all night. He tells her Jessica is just a roommate and ex-girlfriend who’s jealous sometimes. He’s been trying to get her to date other men, since her jealousy is a drag.
The next day he buys the SAW box set. “Jigsaw is on the cover in plastic,” he tells Kelly in a goodnight email at 5:27 a.m., “so how cool is that???”
“Get something scary for Halloween!” Kelly writes. “Then maybe sometime I can have sex with you when you’ve got a scary mask on . . . also in a cemetery.”
So Steve does exactly that. “I bought the Billy the Puppet Mask (i.e. the puppet from SAW) and it is creepy looking! Maybe I’ll bring it up next time I’m out there to scare the hell out of you, haha. Ever want to have sex with the puppet from SAW? lol. I told you that I’m pretty sexually adventurous, and I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea . . . Know any good cemeteries? ;-) I actually enjoy sex in random ass places, (although I haven’t done it that much), so let me know if you’re ever interested, as I am up for anything and everything.”
“The puppet mask sounds good,” Kelly replies. “I
t creeps the hell out of me already. I’d hate looking out my peephole to see that, but creepy is good. :) I don’t know any good cemeteries around here, but back home there is a really old scary one on the lake that I have been eyeing for a long time . . . Let me know if you find any around here! Also, any empty churches . . . I’m pretty much up for anything as well, so feel free to share any ideas you’ve got . . . It’s nice to not have to worry that I will offend you or creep you out, because you are just as sick as I am!”
“I’m also glad that I don’t have to sugar coat things and be PC around you,” Steve writes—they love watching Maury, make jokes about sterilization of blacks, about watermelons, about hating Mexicans, etc.—“as I usually have to make an effort to mask my words and contain my dark sense of humor. Oh, and don’t worry Kelly, I won’t ruin the ending of SAW 4 for you or tell you that Jigsaw is really the father of . . . Okay, so I didn’t see it yet, but it’s still fun to speculate as to how the series will conclude, (if it will conclude). I honestly wouldn’t mind [if] the creators kept sticking to the recipe of another Halloween, another SAW since the series is *that* good.”
Steve and Kelly consider sex in a public bathroom, and then Steve writes about Jessica: “Anyway, I can’t wait until my lease expires here, as I’m going to start looking for a new one bedroom for next year. My roommate is great and everything, but I just want my own place, as I’m not really used to living with a roommate, particularly one that I used to date.”
Kelly invites Steve to her family Thanksgiving in her hometown, but he isn’t interested and she backs away from the idea, saying she just didn’t want him to be alone for the holiday.
SAW 4 OPENING NIGHT, Friday, October 26, 2007. Steve is excited. He’s seeing it with Jessica and Susan. A chance to make up with Susan, perhaps, and Jessica. Just had one of his fights with Jessica. He wrote to Mark, on October 24: “Crap on a stick! Jessica is flipping out tonight after too many drinks + prescription medication, so I won’t be on until 11:00 pm [to play first person shooters online].” Jessica knows when he goes out to have sex, knows what’s going on with Kelly.
But Susan is the one who really hates him. Maybe things can be better. Maybe they can get along. Susan is talking with a friend on the phone, though. Steve asks if she can drive, and she starts telling her friend how he’s a jerk, and then he gets angry.
So no Susan after all. He gives away her ticket outside the theater. He doesn’t know why it hits him so hard, not getting along with her. Family has always made him want to die. But to hell with them, he’s going to enjoy the movie.
When he and Jessica enter the theatre, they smell puke. Someone has projectile vomited in the previous showing. Should be good.
The movie begins with an autopsy of Jigsaw, gruesome, sawing into his head, removing his brain, sawing into his chest, slicing through fat, removing his stomach. They cut open his stomach and find a tape. “Did you think the games would end with my death?”
The “games” are a kind of therapy. In all the SAW movies, Jigsaw is a pseudopsychologist, a man who doesn’t have long to live (dying of terminal cancer), who is going to help his victims appreciate the value of life. He tells a rare survivor, “Congratulations. You are still alive. Most people are so ungrateful to be alive. But not you. Not anymore.”
“He helped me,” the victim then tells investigators.
All of Jigsaw’s killings are strictly regulated by time limits and “rules.” In the Cole Hall shootings, too, timing and strict control of behavior will help provide order to an insane act. Steve will walk calmly down the aisle shooting his victims, some of whom will be too paralyzed by fear to flee, then he’ll turn around and march back to the stage to kill himself, with no hesitation. Like the military, the world of SAW offers behavioral control without any reference, grounded on absurdity. Unmoored from society, parroting the rules.
Later that night, Steve writes Susan an email, parts of which are meant to instruct: “Susan, I just wanted to let you know that I’m actually quite relieved knowing that things will never change with you, as it is clear that you do not want a change; only negativity and drama. I will leave you to your own narrow perception of the world, and wish you the best of luck without holding any ill will towards you. With that being said, I really need to let you know that I’m often shocked and appalled by your disrespect towards me, and always am disgusted by the way you talk to me. It’s funny, because I’ve received more respect from hardened gang-bangers when I was in the group home. You are without a doubt the most rude and disrespectful person I have ever known, and it is unfortunate that you don’t even realize it. In fact, I’m shocked that we are even from the same family, because we couldn’t be more different. I mean, when you talk trash about me to your friends on the phone, simply for politely asking if you could drive to the movies, I know that we are not family; because family wouldn’t treat each other in that fashion. Talking to you is analogous to walking over a mine field, and I was always constantly on eggshells when around you, for fear that I would say something that would trigger some negative reaction from you. What’s most disturbing to me is that you don’t see these issues at all and are therefore not getting the help you need. Even if ignorance is bliss, something has to give, Susan. Now don’t get me wrong. I am far from perfect, and have never claimed to be. Perhaps I’m the most flawed human being in the world but that is irrelevant. The bottom line is that you need to accept responsibility for your actions and attitude.”
Hints of Jigsaw, trying to teach Susan, letting her know she needs to help herself, just as Jigsaw makes his victims help themselves, whether that means crawling through razor wire, stabbing out their own eyes, or jumping into a pit of syringes. “Save as I save,” Jigsaw says. “Judge as I judge.” The flesh of no consequence.
“This is not about me at all,” Steve continues in his email to Susan, “but rather deals with issues that you have ignored for too long. I really feel as though you have a lot of pent up hatred towards me due to our childhood, which is something that you need to seek professional help for. I am being serious and direct when I say this to you, Susan. There is obviously something seriously wrong when you feel the need to scream and yell at me for the most minor of things. I know a great deal of attention by our parents was diverted from you to myself when I was going through some rough times, and I often think you have issues with hostility, jealousy and self-worth, even today. Please don’t take any of this the wrong way, as I’m just telling it like it is.
“Honestly, I think you need to sit back and re-evaluate your life, attitude, and the way in which you treat people. You are a mean and cruel person, and even if you surround yourself with dozens of superficial (and somewhat token) friends, you will still be that same person, no matter how obfuscated you wish your character traits to be. This can change over time, and I hope for your sake that it does. With that being said, I don’t wish to be around you or converse with you any more than is necessary to conduct the business of the family, (i.e. at funerals and such). I really don’t want anything to do with you at all. I don’t need this stress in my life, and I’m amazed that even though I grew up over the years, you are still stuck as a petty and thoughtless person, trying to compensate for your inadequacies by disrespecting and belittling others around you. I can no longer even fake wanting to try to make amends with you or to make an effort to ‘hang-out’ with you, because I truly do not see the point when you are such an awful person to be around. I hope that you will eventually learn to be at peace with yourself and with those around you, even if it takes a great deal of time. Please feel free to save this email and to show it off to your partner, friends, and family members to curry sympathy and a shoulder to cry on. Play them for the fools that they are for buying into your melodramatic bullshit, because I am done with you. Good luck to you in the future Susan and I hope that you find whatever it is you are looking for in life.”
Steve always lies awake from midnight until 2:30 or 3:00 a.m., so he has hours to
mull everything over, to replay this email and all his rage at his sister, bottled up in his awkward formality and self-righteousness, but tonight, to make things worse, he wakes up at 4:30 a.m. He checks that the door is locked. The stove, too, checks that it’s off, checks the fridge.
Then he checks his email and finds that he has a long one from Kelly. She calls him “oh-so-old-and-wise-one” because he has written to her that “No one’s life turns out exactly the way they want it to, and it’s just part of the human condition to want more for oneself.” He confesses to her: “With respect to being wise, I am far from it, and if anything, I have realized how much little I know over the last few years of college, (yes, that’s probably a totally improper use of commas, but I’m tired lol). What is the perfect, most immaculate life attainable by someone?” The word immaculate must reach back somehow to his mother, to that Catholic upbringing. Interesting that it shows up now when he tries to talk about happiness, and that he goes immediately to family. “The ideal type (of family) is a farce in itself due to the (somewhat) superficial view that normal, fully functioning families exist. I know, I know . . . let the cynicism abound! :-) I mention family when I talk with others and say that they are doing fine, but the truth is I really don’t have much of a family. My justification is that I don’t want to ever let people know this about me so they don’t think I’m strange. It’s rare that I even see members of my family. I’m not sure why I’m telling you all of this, but it’s 4:45 a.m., so . . . let me rant about how fantastic SAW 4 is! My sister didn’t end up going tonight. For Karma’s sake, I gave somebody in line the free ticket to save them circa $8.00, lol.”
The same day Steve found Kelly on Craigslist, he also found “Heather.” Her photos don’t show her face. Only her body, in lingerie. He meets her on October 27, the day after SAW 4, at a bar in Champaign called Phoenix, along with her sister and friends. “I usually don’t drink,” he tells her, which is true. He’s currently on Celexa, after the Prozac didn’t work, and Xanax and Ambien. But he has two white Russians. He and Heather split off from the group to another bar, the B DUB, then go to a hotel, the Econo Lodge. It’s right off the freeway, the “crack and ho” section of town. They have sex. In the morning he’s a gentleman, buys coffee and cigarettes.