Grizzlyhead’s History

Arlo Braelyn started growing up in a condo in Denton Texas with his mother, father, and older sister. His father, Ruban Braelyn was a major alcoholic, who would abuse Arlo physically, verbally, and mentally. This started to cause anger to fester in Arlo.

One night when Arlo was twelve years old, he immediately snapped and murdered not only his father, but his older sister, Dekota in cold blood. This caused Arlo to be sentenced to Huntsville Maximum security prison for the rest of his life.

While Arlo was in Prison at age seventeen, he had become driven by a curse, which cause him to lose his soul and never say a word. He even gained the ability to regenerate for a hour after being knocked out by any deadly attack.

Eight months later, Arlo soon found out that his mother, Joann was killed in a serious car accident. This situation caused Arlo become angrier than ever. So much anger festered in him so much that he wanted to take revenge on what or who caused his mother’s death.

After four more years, Arlo managed to escape prison and return back to his hometown of Denton only to resume his killing spree.

Nobody knows how he manages to never ever say one single word. Nobody knows how he manages to survive every deadly attack. Nobody knows what he escaped prison and returned to his hometown for. Nobody knows what he wanted to resume his killing spree in his hometown for.

All that people know about Arlo is this. That boy is out there. He’s dangerous and he’s not human anymore. He’s evil, pure evil.


   I want to start off by saying that this story is 100% true and that I have linked an article pertaining to the case at the end.
   Back in 2011, my family and I went to visit a family friend, Mike, at his trailer out in the middle of nowhere in Alaska. It was during summer, so the weather was quite nice and sunny – no snow to speak of. I was around fourteen at the time and I remember being particularly excited because Mike had a few ATV four-wheelers that my siblings and I would get to drive around to explore the expanse of land.
   We met his son, Blair, who was a little older than my brother, sister and I at the time. Maybe in his early twenties. He seemed decent, though back then I remember thinking that I wouldn’t want to hang out with him if not for my brother and sister being there with me. We all hopped on our ATVs and drove out to explore the land, weaving through the forest and out onto dirt paths. He lead us up a very steep hill, but I felt anxious because when I say steep hill, I mean steep hill. I thought my ATV would flip backside over at any given moment. But we made it to the base of the hill and I remember heaving a sigh of relief.
   Blair took us to a small ice cream shop nearby and bought us all milkshakes. After this, I started to relax around him. After the milkshakes, we met his friend at a basketball court. Trevor – a skinny, tattooed shirtless man. Drug-dealer by the looks of it. There was graffiti covering every inch of the walls surrounding the court, most of it saying things like “Trevor sucks dick for gas money” and other degrading things about him. At this point, in the company of this other friend, I started to feel a bit nervous. Luckily though, we ended up leaving a few minutes later and I relaxed as we returned to exploring on our ATVs. And the day ended with us returning back to Mike’s trailer and roasting dinner over the campfire.
   Everything was great and, aside from Blair’s weird choice in friends, I thoroughly enjoyed the trip. We went home later that night.
   Then… A few weeks later, we saw Mike on the news. Blair, his son, had killed him and stuffed his body under a trailer. It was reported that Mike had been stabbed several times in the chest and that Blair took a picture of his dead father and sent it to a family member, who then contacted the police. When my father told me about what had happened, I felt a shiver run down my spine. Blair was a murderer. I couldn’t believe my young siblings and I had spent an entire day with a to-be killer, laughing and enjoying ourselves. Not knowing who this kid would turn out to be.