Hello again. Ruxandra broadcasting.
If you guys have not read part 3 yet, here it is https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/w1hxgy/helena_the_clown_part_3/
I feel dead tired. I think all this is taking a toll on me. I have not told you, I had a weird dream, Helena was coming for me, on some dark, unknown streets, not very unlike the ones where she resides. I was able to get into some communist apartment block areas, it seemed I have escaped, got home and then she was next to my bed, with her two knives, pointing them towards me. I woke up, she was not there, of course. Firstly, I thought things start to have Elm Street vibes, but that was a movie. This does not mean Helena can come to me like that, nothing I find out about her suggest that, probably it is just my mind.
Yeah, the two knives. I forgot, Martha told me that, at least, after a certain point, Helena seemed to use in her attacks two knives at once, that were used very skillfully, to slash and kill. Some people so them as bayonets, military knives that can be used in combat both as knives or as spears, if they are mounted on a gun that is out of munition. Victims were shown to have been attacked with the knives on the neck, but also on chest, the head was not targeted most of the times. In the recent case of Marcel, she seemed to have used one of them, not both. Maybe she did not considered him ”worthy” of double knife attack, like in the old days? Perhaps she was not in the mood? She may be weak? She seemed to be pretty strong, if she was capable of it. I do not know. I wonder if she needs to feed, like a western vampire, on the living. Many, many questions. Yeah, yeah, you may say I am playing with fire. But, you know the saying: No guts, no glory.
I have called my friend Mitica, the antiquities dealer, if he still had that pdf with the scans. He said that he probably still had it saved on some external hard drive, to allow him to search for it. Meanwhile, I wanted to start searching in archives of the newspapers from the 1920ties and 1930ties about all the incidents. That will take a while, but with some energy drinks, I would be able to do that, I assume.
There were several incidents that caught the public eye back in the day. One the first large scale incidents, according to Martha, was the Matasari incident. Matasari was a street that, back in the day, held brothels, there were several spots in Bucharest like this. The street was pretty close to the Obor area, but in a different sense then the place where Helena resides now. It seems some member of the local council from the city hall went to a certain prostitute there. Somebody followed him, knew the day and hour when would, most likely, go there. And Helena came for him. I do not know if she was sent or if the went there on her own. What is known is that man came to the brothel one night, and Helena was already in yard, waiting for him. She took both her knives and came for him. He fled inside, screams started, after several minutes, one of the prostitutes managed to come out screaming in the street, asking for help. The street was up, madames, pimps and prostitutes fled to the house that was already covered in darkness. Some banging noise started, alongside screams.
Soon, Helena came out, holding the head of the counselor in her right hand. She impaled it on the fence. A pimp jumped on her, she stabbed him in the chest with one of the knives, killing him instantly. Another pimp and a madame jumped at Helena, who grabbed them both, banging one head with force into the other. Prostitutes gathered in the streets ran away. It was later known that inside the brothel, only those who stood in her way were hurt or killed, like she wanted only the local politician to be out, not all the others. She put her things together and continued her walk toward the Matei Voevod street, moving away from Obor. Police was called, and a Jandarmerie (military police) car managed to discover Helena. The summoned her to stop, but she refused. Then they opened fire on her. She did not seemed to be affected. She moved away, managed to get behind their car, broke the windows, they fired again. One of them came close to her, she broke his neck and took his gun. Then she fired at the other jandarms, killing all of them. Then she took the guns, placed them on her arms, and went on towards Hurmuzaki square of today.
Next day, a search warrant was issued for the fair of Obor. Helena was asleep or ”played dead”. The official result was that Helena was just a wood dummy. Very soon.
Surprisingly enough, people continued to come to her show. At some point, someone came close to Helena and tried to stab her. It was not clear what went next, but that boy broke his right arm and ran away screaming. Helena ”played dead” after this, it seems. Police came, and their report was that he was a mad man, and that Helena was, of course, a harmless wooden dummy. She tried to play low in the next occasions, police knew about her and avoided confrontation unless necessary.
I remember that in the area where Helena seems to reside now, a movie was shot in the 1980ties, about the world of the circus. Recently, pretty close to those streets, on the land where the largest construction material factory in Bucharest resided, a new park and the new building of the state circus was build. The plot is kinda of childish, therefore irrelevant to our situation. Filming took place there, probably, to the proximity of the circus, used for interior scenes, and the streets having old houses on them that could pass belle epoque houses. That is ironic, Helena seemed to have been sleeping in that yard, that was part of the sets of the movie with clowns. Eh, if she woke up, those movie clowns would probably freak out, I guess…
My hipster friend managed to send me that pdf. It is ok that he sent it later that day, I was at work anyway. I admit I was anxious to get off work to return to my new obsession, the Helena case. Yeah, I stroke gold again. At least gold, perhaps platinum would be better. Of course, if I had not stroke gold already with Martha, telling me about Laie the Butcher, I would not have remembered about the diary.
About one hour diving into it, I felt dizzy and nauseous. That gay was a sick bastard. I would not reproduce too much of it, only what I shall consider relevant. I will tone down some elements, I do not want to shock just for the fake of it, it would make no sense. It held a lot of surprises for my quest. I shall start reproducing some of it, in pieces. Here we go…
„12 of March 1918. First recording in the diary of Laie. Laie is destined to be a very great man. He is only 28 years old now, and works as a butcher. Yet, he knows he will be a very great man, that he struggles to get to the top, or as close to the top. He is a free man, he does not worry about things petty people care, like feeling guilty. Great people need to go beyond this.” Then he proceeds in describing some robing he did, some rapes, the money he made from smuggling some merchandise for some bourgeois. Petty things, for now. Then, one entry caught my attention:
”14 of may 1918. I knew it I was meant for greatness. I believe I met the man who will be my train for greatness. My cousin Spirache and his wife Safta are the servants of the colonel Protopopescu, who lives at near the beer factory at Basarab. Rich guy, like any colonel. I wonder why they kicked me out of the army, I could have been a colonel myself soon. Or at least major. Spirache and Safta, both of them, like me, a mixture of Romanian and Gipsy from the mahala (term that can be loosely translated into ghetto) of Obor. Like Laie. We do not know how much Romani is in us, how much Romanian. But we are from the mahala and it seems we can not move from it. All we can hope is to be servants of rich, higher class people. We live in small houses, made of cheap materials, so often, with muddy yards. They live in French styles homes, with nicely trimmed bushes. Some, like Spirache and Safta, are servants of people like Protopopescu. Why can we be like them, after all? The colonel spends a lot of money on his daughter, Alexandra, to pay her piano and ballet lessons. She is about the same age as my niece, the daughter of Spirache, Helena. Seven years old. One is shiny, one is dressed in rags. One has nice blonde hair, blue eyes, the other is olive skin, black hair and black eyes. The first will be a lady when she grow up, the second a servant. Or worse. Why is that?
Alexandra is sickly. Fells ill often, gets back hard. Bad stock. Helena is healthy, gets sick rarely and gets well fast. Why is that? Would not make sense that Helena get the life of Alexandra? No, this is not about justice. I do not care about socialist crap. I just think this is how it would make sense, the strong to survive and get the benefits. Right? At first, Helena seemed to have felt it. She stayed with her eyes down near Alexandra, peeking at her why shyness and envy. She stole some cookies, her Romani blood is there, kicking. She will survive on her own, I see it, but it would make sense that she gets what Alexandra has.”
”20 of May 1918. I came again on the residence of Protopopescu, to deliver some sausages. They love my sausages, that is for sure. I feel something good will come out of all this, for me. I do not know what, I shall see. Again, Alexandra was playing the piano. Some crappy, silly western piano music. From the sheets. Helena was there. I was surprised to see Helena was listening carefully to what Alexandra was playing. She liked it. Disgusting. I remained to talk to Spirache, he had some free time, and watched Alexandra and Helena. Alexandra tried to show Helena how to play the piano. She was soft on Helena, did not managed at first to make Helena get anything. But slowly, with patiently, Helena started to catch on. Her Romani blood again, Romanis know how to play the fiddle. Or, perhaps her Romanian blood makes her feel the taste for western, upper-class style crap? Who knows. She seem to enjoy it.
Today that English doctor, Gordon something, came for Alexandra. Big conman, but smart one. He tricks a lot of people to pay him big cash. Yet, people die on his hand. I guess doctors are, very much, conmen who fool people that they can, actually, do something for them. He ate some of my sausages. He like them, so the colonel introduced me to him, since I did not left. The doctor asked somethings about my skills and experience, that he shall order from me many stuff, traditional from around here. He asked me if I know recipes of English styled sausages or salami, I told him I do not know. He told me he knows some, he shall share them with me, them let me manage something. Not sure how much it shall be like in England, but I am sure something will come out to please him. He has money. But yet, who knows, perhaps this man shall he helpful for me. In my wishes. We shall see. Both Helena and Alexandra were sad when Helena had to go.”
In this the Helena we are interested with? It is very likely, since it is pretty clear this is the Puppeteer, at the time when he played healer. What on Earth could he want from a butcher from Obor? Perhaps that day changed the lives of many people, Helena most of all. I can not wait to continue reading. I shall keep you updated.
For now, Ruxandra is out.