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prequel - yung cheddar lyrics

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2:39am, austin county jail, austin, texas, 11/03/1989

lance gardener, a prison guard keeping surveillance over the prisons cameras was brutally stabbed in the neck, and thrown into a locker by an unknown person. detectives theorize that the unknown individual snuck up on him through the fire exit, which had construction on the lower level, and easy access from the visitors centre. gardener didn’t hear the culprit approaching, as he was listening to music on a pair of sony headphones. after being thrown into thе locker, his keychain was taken from his pockеts, which contained as follows;
a key to his 1980 chevrolet k10
a key to his home in austin
a key with written access to the security terminal

the attacker used the terminal to turn on the lights in cellblock*b, and open all doors before fleeing the scene. 20 seconds after this a riot breaks loose, and the few guards there that night try to intervene, but one, jeremy brookes, was overpowered by 4 men. he was beaten to death with a makeshift hammer, and had his firearm removed from his holster. all h*ll broke loose after that, before cameras show lance gardener’s pick up truck smash through the south wall of the cellblock, and cause multiple inmates to rush out. the driver’s face is concealed with a black bandana, and remains in the car honking before one inmate, *redacted*, steps inside. the 2 then reverse out, driving through the other inmates rushing for freedom, and escape through the main visitor gate. a total of 22 prisoners died, 6 suffered injuries, 74 escaped. 9 guards were k!lled, and 3 were injured and rushed to hospital. 30 of the escaped inmates were eventually found. though the masked man, believed to be the one behind the death of lance gardener, was never found, along with *redacted*. this horrible tragedy still leaves a bad taste in residences mouths, and has them fearing for who may be roaming the streets to this day

4:01pm, melbourne city, australia. 2004
“the following statements are professionally pieced together from a psychiatric patient named jarred f*rs*. play the cd.”

“i did my research on a guy, some kid in the states. *pause.* f*ckin wish i didn’t.”
*scratch*
“it was some case from like… 20 years ago, f*ckin lunatic… understatement to say the least.”
*scratch*
“got bailed out of prison, never seen again. some say paranormal f*ckery was at play. i don’t believe in that fairy tall bullsh*t.”
*scratch*
“my son? oh yeah, he has a fascination with his guitar. *long pause.* i’d be lying if i told you i spent more time with him than he did with that f*ckin thing. missus reckons he’s got autism, i say it’s a load of cr*p. worlds gone soft.”
*skip*
“had an argument with him at the dinner table, told him to get a job. he said something about my work. he said his name. the one from the states. the freak. i got goosebumps in the moment, felt a weird energy, assumed i was having another reaction to my wifes cooking. *long laugh, followed by a small pause.* i sent him off, told him to go to bed without dinner tonight. next day, didn’t see him for breakfast, and missus tells me he didn’t come home from school.”
*scratch*
“no. you’re not listening, he wasn’t there, but he was. besides, i grabbed his video recorder. i watched the playback… it was a few minutes after i sent him off. he recorded the street outside for a little bit, opened his window and got a few good shots, then closed it and sat the camera down across from the bed. he grabbed his guitar, and sung the name of that… that… devil. suddenly the recording looped, and sh*t started getting freaky. blood around his eyes, hands coming out the walls… i didn’t feel safe myself, and thats when i fainted. you gotta believe me. where’s the video camera?
*scratch*
“im not f*cking lying. get me the f*ck out of here. where is my f*cking son. ill k!ll all of you. let me go. let me free.”
*end*
*australian department of psychology

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