Excerpts from the Journal of Dr. Waller, as provided by Franko Stephens
Art by Errow Collins
July 27th, 2022
First journal entry on my first day of freedom! It’s weird, writing on paper. I haven’t used a pen since the third grade, when my idiot of a teacher decided that cursive was a lost art. Curriculum be damned, he said, you kids are going to learn this. Two days later, he was hospitalized after a horrible accident involving the metal frame of his chair and an unfortunately close electrical outlet. Sweet, sweet memories. I never did learn cursive.
Although this is never meant to be found … who am I kidding, I want some underfed scholar in the future to find this journal. My name is Dr. Ignacious Waller, Dr. Mental to the public, Iggy to my friends, if I ever make any. Twenty-seven years ago, I was arrested for the murder of 212 people in a cavern outside the city limits. My arch nemesis, Liberty Man, had failed to save them, though he nearly killed me before handing my battered body over to the authorities. In his defense, it was a trap, an unwinnable situation concocted by a brilliant mind. There was just one issue.
It was not my mind that created the trap.
Oh, I know. You’re thinking, of course he would not confess after being released, of course he would not write down his guilt like a moron. True, I am no moron, according to all the tests. Why am I even writing in a journal? The truth is, I need a focus. I need it badly. I need to start from the beginning, so that I may move forward in my own story.