The Steel Van Man Chronicles – Jason Stadtlander

Jason Stadtlander
January 18, 2014

SVM Chronicles: January 18

SVM Chronicles: January 18 https://jasonstadtlander.com/dsgte4yt4/images/empty/thumbnail.jpg 150 150 Jason Stadtlander Jason Stadtlander https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/005a188b0f881a33cb85960dca72b8e2?s=96&d=mm&r=g January 18, 2014 January 18, 2014

Today is my mother’s birthday. She’s been gone now for thirteen years. The world is definitely a better place since she has left and my life has really done a full one eighty since then. However, I will admit that her legacy will haunt my world for the rest of my life. I wonder all the time if it will affect others in our family though. It’s one of my deepest fears. Yes, I know, you would never think so, but I do have fears. Most of my fears revolve around my children or the fact that I am not as skilled a hunter as I believe myself to be. Surely those fears are unjustified, but they are there none-the-less.

So what does one do on the birthday of Marion Smythwick? I will do what I have done every year since her death. I will go to her grave in Manataqua Point Cemetery on Essex Street and place a flower on her grave, then I eat my lunch sitting on a stool near her headstone.

Today it’s bitterly cold with a bit of snow left over, but that somehow that seems fitting and I will not change my tradition. She is after all, my mother.

I wonder, if I should ever tell my children about the darkness in our family history. A darkness that I carry on – somewhat unwillingly.

Happy Birthday Mom, may you find the peace in death that you never had in life.

About The Steel Van Man Chronicles

The Steel Van Man is a thriller that was released in August of 2013 about a serial killer who hunts down those that abuse children. You can get the full book here. The “Chronicles” are the continuing journal of the serial killer from its point of view as it continues through its daily life.

Jason Stadtlander
January 3, 2014

SVM Chronicles – January 3rd

SVM Chronicles – January 3rd https://jasonstadtlander.com/dsgte4yt4/images/empty/thumbnail.jpg 150 150 Jason Stadtlander Jason Stadtlander https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/005a188b0f881a33cb85960dca72b8e2?s=96&d=mm&r=g January 3, 2014 January 3, 2014

I sit here in my house, looking out at the snow as it falls softly through the bay windows. My spouse and the children are in the living room by the fire, but I choose the den. I’ve been debating whether I should go out and shovel. I’d really prefer not.

It has been a nice year so far, only three days in. It may be 6 degrees outside, but I had a wonderful fire going only eight hours ago. To say that Santa made it down the chimney would be an understatement. There is one less person in the world to harm the children of the world and I feel as though I’ve had my much needed release. It’s been far too long since I let myself hunt. I need the kill as much as it needs me.

And what good does it do for me to prevent myself from taking the pleasure that I so badly need? All I do is get stressed beyond all comprehension and prevent the world from being cleansed. The monster needs to be let out once in a while to go for a run or it will take me over.

How can I be expected to be a good parent and spouse if I can’t find a way to satisfy my own inner workings? I can’t. That’s the plain truth. I make time for family, and work and I even make time for being a good partner. What I do not do enough of, is make time for myself. How can a hero even try to save the world around them if they don’t find time for themselves?

I do have another problem, that has been plaguing me. Something else that I’ve been thinking about incessantly. Ms. Lacitor, the good detective from Northwood. Can I trust her to keep my secret hidden? I do not want to harm her, but I also can’t risk the truth getting out. So far, I believe I can trust her. I believe though, that I must keep a vigilant eye on her and ensure that our friendship remains a friendship. There is such a fine line between friend and enemy. A friend is an enemy that you can enjoy being around, in my opinion. Or, perhaps a friend is a person with the potential of being an enemy in the knowledge that they posses.

She knows so much about me, too much. Too much damaging information, yet she stays her hand in turning me in. Why?

Would I do the same in her shoes? I don’t know. I may have to find a way to test this new-found friend. A way to find out how strong her loyalties are. I would never let her participate in a kill, but in years past many English lords used to take their friends on a fox hunt to build comradery. Perhaps a ‘hunt’ would help to solidify that trust. How can one turn on someone when the blood is on their own hands as well?

About The Steel Van Man Chronicles

Jason Stadtlander
December 19, 2013

SVM Chronicles – December 19th

SVM Chronicles – December 19th https://jasonstadtlander.com/dsgte4yt4/images/empty/thumbnail.jpg 150 150 Jason Stadtlander Jason Stadtlander https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/005a188b0f881a33cb85960dca72b8e2?s=96&d=mm&r=g December 19, 2013 December 19, 2013

What is it about the environment of my kill van that gives me peace? The smell of cleanliness. The blood of the filth that has tormented this world, has flowed through the gutters of this van. Only by passing through this vehicle is their blood cleansed and subsequently the world around us. One might think of it as a mobile garbage disposal for the betterment of the world around us. In comes a child molester, a predator, an abuser – and out comes a more peaceful world.

I am sitting here, in the captains chair of my blood bath, now cleaner than the day that it rolled off the show room floor. The smell of bleach fills my nostrils accented by the smell of the clean leather seats up front and the leather dash.

Having already vetted Mr. Boris Pasternak I am sitting here, watching his apartment on Lynn Shore Drive. Known better to the children at the hospitals he visits as Santa Clause, I intend to show him my Santa Claws. Pasternak; it’s origins are slavik – Jewish, meaning “White Turnip” or “Parsley”. Well Mr. Parsley, your times are short.

No matter how many people I remove from this wretched planet in an effort to cleanse, there always seems to be someone to take their place. They are like bacteria, feeding on the community like an unseen plague. Festering into a puss that must be oozed from the fabric of society. Is it ever possible to breed out this desire to harm children? I know that for some it’s unintentional, a fit of anger, a lash-out in a moment of extreme stress. But those aren’t the ones I hunt. The animals I prey on are the ones that have a self-proclaimed purpose, a methodology for their actions. A plan that they follow over long periods of time for nothing more than their own self gratification.

Although I do enjoy my work, I am also fatigued. I am but one person trying to rid the world of so much damage. I think the holidays seem to bring it on even more.

The hunter stared out the window as a fat jolly man stepped out of the front door on the apartment building, carrying a large beige bag, no doubt overflowing with small presents.

The sad part is, there are so many children that will be happy to see him. So many children that need that encouragement to get healthy again. Let’s think about this logically though, a fat ‘jolly’ man (who I’m sure gets nothing where he needs it), prancing around with a bunch of reindeer getting to spend time with children? It spells disaster for far too many.

I think it’s time to chop some herbs.

The hunter put the van in drive and followed the blue Camry as it pulled out of the parking lot.

About The Steel Van Man Chronicles

Jason Stadtlander
December 16, 2013

SVM Chronicles – December 16th

SVM Chronicles – December 16th https://jasonstadtlander.com/dsgte4yt4/images/empty/thumbnail.jpg 150 150 Jason Stadtlander Jason Stadtlander https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/005a188b0f881a33cb85960dca72b8e2?s=96&d=mm&r=g December 16, 2013 December 16, 2013

It’s strange what memories surface from time to time.

I was dropping off my children at school today in Beverly and thought about when I was in elementary school. I remember frigid icy days like this, standing out on the playground in my new winter boots.

I was using the hard heel of my boots to hammer on the ice, breaking it free from the asphalt. One teacher; Mrs. Fleming, asked me what I was doing. I told her I was breaking up the ice so other kids didn’t get hurt. She smiled and said that I was a good person. She is the second person to say that to me that I can remember, the other being a detective last year.

Am I a good person? Is it ever possible that the person that I am now is not the person I really am? But rather a collection of the environmental conditions to which I have been exposed? Perhaps. Perhaps not.

There is no untraining someone though. You can’t teach a killer not to kill anymore than you can teach a person not to read. Once the skills and the knowledge are there, they must be used. They assert themselves all on their own. A person who knows how to read can’t help but read the signs on the road, it’s second nature. My hunt, my code… It’s second nature to me.

I would be lying though, if I said I didn’t miss that small child on the playground. I do wish from time to time, that I could unlearn what I know. Do not mistake my desire to return to innocence as regret, however. I have no regrets about who and what I am. God created me for a purpose and anytime I doubt that purpose, I just look in the beautiful eyes of my children.

Only through my actions can I ensure this world is becoming a better place.

About The Steel Van Man Chronicles

Jason Stadtlander
December 9, 2013

SVM Chronicles: December 9th

SVM Chronicles: December 9th https://jasonstadtlander.com/dsgte4yt4/images/empty/thumbnail.jpg 150 150 Jason Stadtlander Jason Stadtlander https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/005a188b0f881a33cb85960dca72b8e2?s=96&d=mm&r=g December 9, 2013 December 9, 2013

December 9th

Do you enjoy buying gifts this time of year? I do sometimes, but I prefer to find a time when no one else is around. The internet has made shopping without being around so many people much easier, but then you have to have the damn things delivered to you and risk someone seeing them if you’re not around. I’ve already bought each of my children two well thought out gifts, better to buy them then pass down something from the family. Although I really would like for them to hear what their grandfather has to say on his tapes. Most of them are sweet and benign, but there are other tapes that have a darkness to them. An underlying profundity that is just barely perceivable. It is that darkness and depth that I am afraid of my children hearing in their dead grandfather’s voice.

The Steel Van Man Chronicles It is that iniquity about our family history that I just don’t want to reveal to them. A part of me doubts that they would ever hear that in his loving voice, perhaps it is just me, tainted by the truth that sees the evil. For all I know, it’s not even really there in his recordings. However, it’s a chance I can’t take… at least for now.

I’ve been sitting here in my surveillance van, watching a man here in Lynn for the past four hours. Twice I’ve seen him leave and come home carrying bags of toys into his apartment. I watch as my hidden cameras see him wrapping the toys and trying on his Santa suit to make sure that everything fits. Ah, the holidays… a time of joy, innocence and perversion. The spirit of Christmas is nothing more than a mask for this man to wear for his disgusting perversions.

Methinks he will soon see what the true holiday spirit is all about, long before he has a chance to deliver his presents to good little boys and girls. Yes, I believe that he will find the Holidays sharp, cold and brutal in ways he can’t even imagine.

About The Steel Van Man Chronicles

Jason Stadtlander
December 5, 2013

The Steel Van Man Chronicles

SVM Chronicles: December 5th

SVM Chronicles: December 5th https://jasonstadtlander.com/dsgte4yt4/images/empty/thumbnail.jpg 150 150 Jason Stadtlander Jason Stadtlander https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/005a188b0f881a33cb85960dca72b8e2?s=96&d=mm&r=g December 5, 2013 December 5, 2013

December 5th

Thanksgiving is over and now the holidays approach. ‘Happy Holidays’ all the retailers say with their ridiculous marketing plastered everywhere the day after Halloween.

The Steel Van Man Chronicles I would like to say that the holidays have always been a nice, happy time. Full of family cheer and old relatives visiting that we haven’t seen all year long. A nice fire burning in the living room as people laugh over a glass of thick delicious eggnog or hot chocolate, savoring the delicious food and cookies scattered throughout the house. The smell of pine in the air as the tree stands proudly decorated in the corner and candy canes hang upon it. Perhaps a fat jolly adult dressed in a Santa Claus outfit walks throughout the party distributing funny, small presents to everyone from his big bag. Yes, I would like to say that.

This however would be a lie. I didn’t have a bad childhood, but it was most definitely not like those picturesque moments torn from the scenes of a Normal Rockwell painting. Our house was not illuminated with the internal warmth from a Thomas Kinkade painting either. In fact, I would say it was more accurately described as Edvard Munch’s Scream. That harsh truth to the human existence that can only be described as fear. Fear for the holidays anyone? My mother was far from a kind, loving mother. I suppose she loved me in her own way and as a child, I thought she was very loving and kind. It was only later that I discovered her to be a sadistic killer. Even as I saw her kill my father and mutilate his corpse, it never occurred to me that this was anything but ‘normal’.

The truth was, my father was a loving, caring man. He loved his children deeply, but unfortunately he had not married a woman… He had married a monster. I have no doubt that he must have grasped at some point the monster whom he had married, perhaps not until it was too late. Or, perhaps he knew after we were already born but chose to stay to protect us. The sad reality is, I will never know the truth, at least not as far as his feelings toward my mother. I still have his tape recordings which he made to us and through those, I can tell he loved us. His beautifully preserved skull does nothing but stare back at me through the glass, right beside my mothers. So I raise a glass to you both, Happy Holidays Mom and Dad.