narniapoq
The Scarlett Sacrament
A passage taken from a collection of works written in 2004 regarding the influence of mystical phenomenon on psychosis.
Most people have very specific situations they link to occult related mass hysteria- The witch hunts of the 16th and 17th centuries & McCarthyism in the 1950s. One might even draw connections to the fear surrounding the supernatural aspects of the game Dungeons & Dragons. Today we focus on one specific, and much more recent event. The gruesome murder of 22 year old Jessica Willett that took place at The Scarlett Hotel on March 13th, 1999, better remembered as “The Scarlett Sacrament”
Four young women stand clustered at the front desk of the Scarlett Hotel. Three close friends, and one outsider. That much was evident even at a glance. Witnesses would later recount that the majority of their conversation circled around a concert they were meant to be attending and so the nervous energy of the group was easily brushed aside as anticipation. Easy enough to regard the separated individual as perhaps uncomfortable. Dressed with slightly less regard for modesty, and perhaps a tiny bit less clean cut than her companions Jessica Willett was easily marked the odd man out. Nobody gave the gaggle of girls a second glance. They weren't the only crowd of young adults on their way to this concert. Plenty of out of towners dressed in various levels of glam and grunge swarmed the hallways and loitered in the hallways. Glass shattered and furious screaming matches held behind doors were barely acknowledged. Just another raucous roar to add to the cacophony.
No, there was nothing special about this group of girls until about 2am the next morning. Not when a shriek of terror sounded from behind the doorway of Room 233. Not even when three girls emerged with horror stricken faces and makeup marred with trails of tears. It wasn't until one followed the officers inside to peer at the desecrated body of the fourth member of their group. Jessica lay, arms outstretched. Nearly saintly. Her flesh peppered with abrasions and the blossoming of new bruises, a tarot card in each open palm and the rest scattered at her feet.
Death.
The Devil.
Her face seemed to hold the brunt of the abuse, an image that will surely turn stomachs for decades to come. Small wooden crosses, tied haphazardly, were jammed into the woman’s eye sockets and a terrible spike pierced her glitter flaked cheeks.
The press flew with the story. OBVIOUSLY this girl’s three friends were innocents. They were good godly women who only came to this concert in order to befriend a troubled girl, you see? The girls spoke freely about how she was a classmate of theirs from a small rural school college. They knew she dabbled in the occult and they were worried for her. They saw a woman on the precipice of peril and were determined to be a good influence. They wanted to act as disciples to Jessica and the best way to do that was by taking interest in her and winning her over after they became friends. When they got to the hotel, however...they stated that Jessica didn't stay with them for long. She found a familiar face in the crowd, one that they said seemed dangerous. Frightening. A man among a group of degenerates wearing all black, with odd symbols scrawled onto their clothing. Try as they might, the girls could not tear her away from her newfound gaggle of heathens… so they went to the concert on their own. They didn't want to go, of course, but they hoped that she would find them there and they could pick up right where they left off. When they arrived at the hotel to find her body they were stricken with horror. “Possible Human Sacrifice” and “Dangerous Satanic Cult Killing” topped headlines nationwide. The religious symbology in conjunction with the gruesome murder could only point to desecration. The dangers of Heavy Metal, tarot and spirit boards were murmured among sewing circles. The terrible outcome of watching horror movies was preached from the pulpit… those could be blamed for this young woman’s death. They were a cross the nation could pin their fears upon, and so they did.
Some individuals were much more reluctant to pull out their torches. They claimed that something didn't quite add up. There were no unexplainable early check outs… and no groups checking in that fit the makeup of the supposed cult of murderers. Nobody could find anyone matching the descriptions the friend group provided that didn't have an airtight alibi. The tarot cards in the hands seemed… wrong. Amature. The choices of someone who simply saw the faces and names of the cards and took them at face value. Even Jessica herself didn't seem to match up with the image that these girls were painting. She seemed extremely...ordinary. Maybe a bit more ‘edgy’ than the average student at the small rural school, but only barely. Certainly not the blood drinker she was being made out to be. Then, the autopsy. None of her gruesome wounds had killed the woman. Instead it was the heavy dose of sedatives that eventually led to her death. She had no marks of restraint and the signs of a struggle were minimal. Things were not aligning, but the nation was roiling with righteous anger and they had something easy to blame.
Years later, with changes in the way DNA evidence was used, we would discover the truth of the thing. No longer could we paint Jessica’s death as the outcome of toying with darkness. Her death was instead caused by the righteous anger of the holy. Three young women who thought themselves victors of all that was good happened to find a target that would make them martyrs. They were whipped into a frenzy by their own brand of panic. Small harmless traits became compounded. Just different enough… just threatening enough that they could easily view Jessica as some terrible corrupting force. A woman who was acting as the right hand of Satan himself. She listened to the Devil’s music, after all, and dabbled in fortune telling and communing with the dead. Their fervor declared her a danger that they needed to stamp her out. If they couldn't do it with the conviction of their words, they would cleanse her by any means necessary. It was easy enough to slip in the things they needed with their luggage. Easy enough to disappear in the crowds of degenerates if they needed to leave. Easy enough to pin the blame on any faceless demon that might have found itself among the crowd that night. And so they made their own sacrifice on a different altar that night, in the name of good. In the name of justice and righteousness they created a Scarlett Sacrament. A story for the books. A warning against fear mongering and mass hysteria.
Still, even today, individuals claim that thefts occur in their rooms at the Scarlett Hotel believing wholeheartedly to have seen Jessica Willet’s ghostly figure carrying out the act.. Even going so far as to attribute violent crimes carried out on the premises to the long dead young woman. Every one of the claims related in some way to religious symbols. Even in her death she is a scapegoat for a fearful world. Jessica Willett- a sobering reminder that witch hunts still happen. That even with all our knowledge, we are not immune to the fear of the unknown and the horrors that fear can cause.
The Scarlett Sacrament
A passage taken from a collection of works written in 2004 regarding the influence of mystical phenomenon on psychosis.
Most people have very specific situations they link to occult related mass hysteria- The witch hunts of the 16th and 17th centuries & McCarthyism in the 1950s. One might even draw connections to the fear surrounding the supernatural aspects of the game Dungeons & Dragons. Today we focus on one specific, and much more recent event. The gruesome murder of 22 year old Jessica Willett that took place at The Scarlett Hotel on March 13th, 1999, better remembered as “The Scarlett Sacrament”
Four young women stand clustered at the front desk of the Scarlett Hotel. Three close friends, and one outsider. That much was evident even at a glance. Witnesses would later recount that the majority of their conversation circled around a concert they were meant to be attending and so the nervous energy of the group was easily brushed aside as anticipation. Easy enough to regard the separated individual as perhaps uncomfortable. Dressed with slightly less regard for modesty, and perhaps a tiny bit less clean cut than her companions Jessica Willett was easily marked the odd man out. Nobody gave the gaggle of girls a second glance. They weren't the only crowd of young adults on their way to this concert. Plenty of out of towners dressed in various levels of glam and grunge swarmed the hallways and loitered in the hallways. Glass shattered and furious screaming matches held behind doors were barely acknowledged. Just another raucous roar to add to the cacophony.
No, there was nothing special about this group of girls until about 2am the next morning. Not when a shriek of terror sounded from behind the doorway of Room 233. Not even when three girls emerged with horror stricken faces and makeup marred with trails of tears. It wasn't until one followed the officers inside to peer at the desecrated body of the fourth member of their group. Jessica lay, arms outstretched. Nearly saintly. Her flesh peppered with abrasions and the blossoming of new bruises, a tarot card in each open palm and the rest scattered at her feet.
Death.
The Devil.
Her face seemed to hold the brunt of the abuse, an image that will surely turn stomachs for decades to come. Small wooden crosses, tied haphazardly, were jammed into the woman’s eye sockets and a terrible spike pierced her glitter flaked cheeks.
The press flew with the story. OBVIOUSLY this girl’s three friends were innocents. They were good godly women who only came to this concert in order to befriend a troubled girl, you see? The girls spoke freely about how she was a classmate of theirs from a small rural school college. They knew she dabbled in the occult and they were worried for her. They saw a woman on the precipice of peril and were determined to be a good influence. They wanted to act as disciples to Jessica and the best way to do that was by taking interest in her and winning her over after they became friends. When they got to the hotel, however...they stated that Jessica didn't stay with them for long. She found a familiar face in the crowd, one that they said seemed dangerous. Frightening. A man among a group of degenerates wearing all black, with odd symbols scrawled onto their clothing. Try as they might, the girls could not tear her away from her newfound gaggle of heathens… so they went to the concert on their own. They didn't want to go, of course, but they hoped that she would find them there and they could pick up right where they left off. When they arrived at the hotel to find her body they were stricken with horror. “Possible Human Sacrifice” and “Dangerous Satanic Cult Killing” topped headlines nationwide. The religious symbology in conjunction with the gruesome murder could only point to desecration. The dangers of Heavy Metal, tarot and spirit boards were murmured among sewing circles. The terrible outcome of watching horror movies was preached from the pulpit… those could be blamed for this young woman’s death. They were a cross the nation could pin their fears upon, and so they did.
Some individuals were much more reluctant to pull out their torches. They claimed that something didn't quite add up. There were no unexplainable early check outs… and no groups checking in that fit the makeup of the supposed cult of murderers. Nobody could find anyone matching the descriptions the friend group provided that didn't have an airtight alibi. The tarot cards in the hands seemed… wrong. Amature. The choices of someone who simply saw the faces and names of the cards and took them at face value. Even Jessica herself didn't seem to match up with the image that these girls were painting. She seemed extremely...ordinary. Maybe a bit more ‘edgy’ than the average student at the small rural school, but only barely. Certainly not the blood drinker she was being made out to be. Then, the autopsy. None of her gruesome wounds had killed the woman. Instead it was the heavy dose of sedatives that eventually led to her death. She had no marks of restraint and the signs of a struggle were minimal. Things were not aligning, but the nation was roiling with righteous anger and they had something easy to blame.
Years later, with changes in the way DNA evidence was used, we would discover the truth of the thing. No longer could we paint Jessica’s death as the outcome of toying with darkness. Her death was instead caused by the righteous anger of the holy. Three young women who thought themselves victors of all that was good happened to find a target that would make them martyrs. They were whipped into a frenzy by their own brand of panic. Small harmless traits became compounded. Just different enough… just threatening enough that they could easily view Jessica as some terrible corrupting force. A woman who was acting as the right hand of Satan himself. She listened to the Devil’s music, after all, and dabbled in fortune telling and communing with the dead. Their fervor declared her a danger that they needed to stamp her out. If they couldn't do it with the conviction of their words, they would cleanse her by any means necessary. It was easy enough to slip in the things they needed with their luggage. Easy enough to disappear in the crowds of degenerates if they needed to leave. Easy enough to pin the blame on any faceless demon that might have found itself among the crowd that night. And so they made their own sacrifice on a different altar that night, in the name of good. In the name of justice and righteousness they created a Scarlett Sacrament. A story for the books. A warning against fear mongering and mass hysteria.
Still, even today, individuals claim that thefts occur in their rooms at the Scarlett Hotel believing wholeheartedly to have seen Jessica Willet’s ghostly figure carrying out the act.. Even going so far as to attribute violent crimes carried out on the premises to the long dead young woman. Every one of the claims related in some way to religious symbols. Even in her death she is a scapegoat for a fearful world. Jessica Willett- a sobering reminder that witch hunts still happen. That even with all our knowledge, we are not immune to the fear of the unknown and the horrors that fear can cause.