The Catalyst Presents: The Twisted Minds of History

[The Catalyst]

Name: Robert Sephgul
Ethnicity: Caucaisain/White
Nationality: United States
D.O.B.: 1906, January, 15

Robert Sephgul, even in life, had a flair for the dramatic. He first performed at an onstage play at the age of twelve. In doing so, he already firmly establiished his future acting career. At the age of fifteen he was asked to star in a "Motion Picture Film", quite a new and exciting prospect for the young man. For thirty or so years he continued as a famous man in which was well mannered and charismatic. At age 40 he took on a wife and child.
The wife, was a 27 year old girl by the name of Anna Rellus. The son, Charles Sephgul,was 7. Robert awoke one night in bed to the sound of screaming, he saw his wife and child lay baren on the ground outside his home. He only began to approach them as he realized he was already covered in blood. The only thing the neighbors heard was Robert let out a frighhtening and final scream. Because of Robert's career in silent films, his mind had a fictional world to escape to. From that moment forward Robert was robbed of his ability to speak. He was then institutionalized for his mental instability. Robert Sephgul died in his padded cell, June, 18, 1957.

Source: World Pychiatry 2008

[The Rage]

....I just enjoy hearing stories like this, cuz I tend to take such a neutral point of view on the world now.

[The Catalyst]

Name: Armand Wallace
Ethnicity: Caucaisain/White
Nationality: United States
D.O.B.: 1929 Oct., 7

Armand Wallace, was a bright child that had great gifts of observation and analyzation, unfortunately, he was a sociopath. He lived a very peaceful and uneventful life until the age of 16. For the first time, he played a piano. Even spectators in the music shop were astounded by the skill and elegance that naturally flowed from the young man. The shopkeeper's name was Roland McGinley, an old concert pianist with friends in high places.
Within a month Armand was being entered in professional competitions under the flightless wing of Roland. One by one Aarmand put his competitors to shame, he seemed to derive pleasure from their pain and anguish. Roland had great hopes for Armand, and wanted him to compose music as well as play it. Armand, however, soon became tired of the life Roland was shaping for him. Armand had always been interested in war and battle, he read very much of the subject. One night in which Roland was sleeping, Armand wrapped piano wire around his gloved hands and strangled Roland. There was no anger in the act, no remorse, not even conviction. Armand walked into the night and for his entertainment, began a serial murderers life.
He indescriminately went from town to town using his wayward charm and manners to lure people into dark corners of the streets, then proceeded to strangle them. As time went on, Armand, became more and more animalistic. He no longer used piano wire, but his bare hands and cut out his victims hearts. He was at last captured by authorities when he attempted to eat a security guard publicly in a bank. At this point, Armand was no longer even human.

He was executed June, 6, 1948.


Source: World Pychiatry 2008

[Wafflztehkitty]

Talk about bizarre. Keep typing up stuff like this that you find, it's interesting.
I think I'll be on every couple days just to read your stories lol.

[Beowolf]

Definately interesting. The human mind will never be completely understood.

The strange thing is, why am I not getting any results when I search these names in google?

[Wafflztehkitty]

bizarre true stories don't always get internet posts.

this sounds like library gold.

[The Catalyst]

I'm finding all this out from a book, it will take me about a week to study all information and filter it.

Name: Richard Webber
Ethnicity: Canadian/French
Nationality: Canada
D.O.B.: 1950, September, 17


From the moment Richard came home from the hospital after his birth, his parents were fighting. For the next decade he took it all in stride, until he realized that they were fighting over him. He became terribly self loathing, but never said a word about it or acted out in any way. Two years later at the age of twelve, Richard witnessed his father, Raymond, terribly beating his mother, Taylor. Richard was in absolute shock, he quickly grabbed a kitchen knife and forced it into his father's leg and stomach. Realizing what he had done, Richard jerked the knife from his father's stomach, and severed the throat of his crying mother.
Richard was to afraid to die after what he had done, so he was not going to kill himself. He did not want to spend the rest of his life with men in white coats either. Armed with the kitchen knife taped to his chest and blood covering his white shirt, he screamed for help to a passing car on the road. Richard yelled at the driver "Take me to a hospital!", holding his arm as if he were hurt. "What happe-" was all the driver said before getting his throat cut from the back seat. Richard jumped into the front seat where he was panicing to remember everything that his father taught him from when he let him back out of the driveway once. He sat in the body's lap to better control the car.
He knew he could never go back to his previous life, he decided to embrace his new found power and try to find a new home. Seventeen minutes later he was pulled over by a policeman. Richard pulled over the car, as soon as the policeman walked over, he dove at him with the knife in hand. Richard was shot twice in the leg by the officer. Richard was subdued then transported to a local pychiatric ward. There he gave a detailed description of his night to the therapists.
Four years had passed since then, Richard had developed friendships with the staff, especially a nurse that he saw everyday. One day he and the nurse were talking and laughing, he then quickly wrapped his shackels around her neck and strangled her. For years Richard was practicing how to escape from his straight jacket. Using his dead best friend's key, he fled quickly and quietly. He retrieved his white shirt and blue jeans, which were loose to him at the time and now fit, and escaped. It was night, he raided a local shop for a weapon, he found a pipe and a gun. He saw a man walking across the street and ran over with his new found toys in hand. Richard was then fatally hit by a car, he saw the man's watch right before he was struck. On the ground bleeding, he uttered, "Happy birthday to me... ". Because of that, he was refered to by authoraties as, "Birthday Boy". His appearance was frightening to some, blood vessals in his eyes had combusted, giving him "Red Eyes".

It was 1967, September 17, 12:01 when he died.

Source:World Psychaitry 2009

[Beowolf]

Gives me the chills, it doesn't help that he died on his Birthday either.

I find it strange that he died in '67, on the 17th, and he was 17 when he died, and seven years after he started loathing himself. Seven was his lucky number eh?

[The Catalyst]

Name: Nicholas(Nick) V. Reyes
Ethnicity: Mexican
Nationality: Mexico/U.S.
D.O.B.: Jan, 20, 1993


Nick has always been a complete sociopath, his odd hate rantings during elementary school helped nothing. Insanity is a complete possibility to everyone. Not even you. Did yo know that it is, Only I shouldn't know or do know. For I know you and who you are. you're not normal, your average I hate you you know. Or did you hate me first. Why did you leave me Taylor? The three posts before this were about me. In 2001 Nick came to be one of the only people in history to be officially diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder. He spent years in society, becoming more and more unstable. He even went through a stage of breaking in to people's homes and carving the word, "Watch", into the back of their silverware. But I wasn't insane, he was not at all. He was simply bored with life and all it's troubles. He often listened to opera and classical music to reach his true self. I love it. That is what he planned to do. Life has it's ups and it's ups andiysupsandit'sups and it's downs. You know that right? Knowing is very important to me, he always loves to know. You see that's not right. What was my birthday gift? I asked everyone I know to tell me these exact words, "You're always right.". Personally he loved it. Nick always loved to be right, or is that not the right word? Love, Nick doesn't love, he can't love, he simply does not know how, maybe he doesn't want to love. No, he wants to love, he wants Taylor. Four years ago, I never hated her, never never nverrerevc. I always loved her. I have loved to the point of madness, that which is madness, that which to me is the only sensible way to love. She doesn't understand that though, she said she loved me. I remember, I even told her that I would die for her well being. Believe me when I say it. You have to, I'm always right they even said so you don't hera them theey siafd it I know they did I heard thme they said it so cleary I couls hear it from montana. Hooper. No, why does this not seem right? You have to be with me. I hate him you know, kik knowing is alwayts goo you know,

Source: Dr. Richard Kasschau's study of clinical Psychopathy, University of Houston.