The Life and Times of Christopher Alvin Harris (With Part 5!)

Blip · 2014-04-11 17:51:28

Christopher Alvin Harris passed away on April 6th, 8:17 AM PST. After I recovered from the shock and announced my untimely demise to the world, I began working on a house write-up: a full explanation of the traps and all. However, I realized that those are boring, and the Harris deserves more. After a long amount of thought, I decided to try something unique to immortalize the man and his art. I would write a full, multi-part story, told through many types of media: journal entries, police reports, and testimony from those robbed. Here is the first part, telling of Chris's humble beginnings and how he ended up in Las Cruces, New Mexico. This might be a bit long, so bear with me until at least part 2, when the robbing starts.

Part One: The Fateful Move

From the Journal of Christopher Alvin Harris, recovered from his home on Sunday, April 6, 2014:

3/22/14 - I'm Chris Harris, and I never thought I'd be writing a journal. Then again, I never thought I'd lose my job, my house, and most of my life savings in a single day.
You see, I was a museum curator. I had finally gotten my dream job, working at the Getty Museum, and my friend (more like acquaintance - he was the popular kid and I was the art nerd) from high school John Snyder happened to be in the area. He stopped by my house that day to congratulate me, and was surprised to see what a nice place it was considering my curator's salary. He didn't know the truth; I had taken on a second job at the Getty, as a security guard, to help pay the mortgage. I was hoping to keep this secret, but then Snyder suddenly asked if he could stay overnight. I was working the night shift as a guard, as I curated during the day, and didn't want him to see that I was doing so, so I made up some shoddy lie to get him to go find some motel to stay the night.
Snyder saw right through me. He either already knew I was also a security guard, or had a very, very good instinct guessing occupations. He wasn't a very good liar either though, I'm afraid, as I could tell what he was getting at: he wanted to get a special, after-hours tour, from me, for free. Honestly, I wish I was better at dealing with social situations, and Snyder knew it. He had been soliciting things from me ever since high school: first pre-written essays in Art History, then free art supplies for his kids when I worked at an art supply store, and now a special VIP tour of the Getty. Being myself, I agreed to give him the tour.
Honestly, that night was pretty boring. Snyder knew little about art (I wrote all his Art History essays for him), so I could keep him interested with just the most basic information about the paintings. He kept asking to see what was "in the back": the art that wasn't currently on the walls. For once I grew a pair and refused, but he kept berating me with requests. When he headed off to the bathroom I thought nothing of it. If anything I was glad to get a break. I went home exhausted and slept like a log.

Until I woke up and my house was on fire.
My family and I got out fine, thankfully, but Snyder was nowhere to be found. I was worried for him, and told the Fire Department to search the house for him multiple times. They found nothing, not even a charred corpse. He must have gotten out before us, but I couldn't see how. We woke up when the fire alarm went off, and he should have too. At least, I told myself, he got out all right.
That morning I was called in for a meeting with the boss. I was worried I had done something wrong... had he found out about the tour I gave Snyder? It turns out he did, and worse. When Snyder was "in the bathroom", he got into the back room and opened a locked door for some of his goons. They took 155 paintings. I was believed to be a conspirator in the crime, and I had no job until I could prove otherwise.
I went to the motel where my family were staying dejectedly. My wife Traci was not going to be happy with my jobless arrival. I opened the door to our room, ready to apologize profusely, when I saw her talking to a man in a suit: an insurance agent. He filled me in on what happened the night before: the fire that burned my home down was lit from the inside. He blamed me for trying to commit insurance fraud, but I knew who really set the fire: Snyder. I had spent most of our money on that house, and he burned it down so that we got no insurance for it. I was left with nearly nothing.

I was horrified when, later that day, I got a text message from Snyder. He simply said that there was a house I could get for free near where he lived, in Las Cruces, New Mexico. I had to take the offer. Traci has been trying to tell the kids that it's a road trip, not a move, and it's honestly pretty hard to tell; most of the stuff we would have moved was destroyed in the fire anyways. The two of us know, however, that while this move is necessary, it also cuts the last thread holding us to our old life, and my old job. Now, I might always be an art thief on the run in the eyes of the law.

3/23/14 - Las Cruces is a very different place than L.A. Very different.
When we finally showed up to our new house after a long drive, the kids were tired, and so I dropped them and Traci off at home so that they could get some sleep. I decided that I should check out what stores were nearby, and maybe get a quick bite to eat, as a few hours of driving had left me pretty hungry. I drove to the center of town and was absolutely shocked.
There were a total of two stores, plus a gas station food mart. The stores were more like warehouses, one labeled "Tools" and the other "Furniture". The food mart, however, was more shocking. It was totally ransacked: the glass was broken, the food was everywhere, and it seemed completely empty. I figured I'd just make sure I couldn't get anything, and was in the process of leaving my car when I saw a masked man run up to the mart and start grabbing food. He suddenly paused and stared at me wide-eyed, then ran off. I wondered what about me scared him so much, until I heard the truck pull up behind me.
It was a delivery truck, and a young man stepped out. He had a shotgun pointed squarely at my chest. I waited, with my hands up, as he haphazardly refilled the mart, keeping his shotgun trained on me whenever possible. Once the mart was restocked, he left it in its ransacked state. I went in, grabbed some beef jerky, and left.

3/24/14 - Somebody left an envelope staples to my door. I'm assuming it was Snyder, as his name was scrawled messily across the front. Contained within was $2000 and a short note:

"Protect what's yours".

Last edited by Blip (2014-04-18 15:59:56)

Cylence · 2014-04-11 17:59:00

JoyOfTrapping · 2014-04-11 18:06:57

LOL awesome and highly appropriate .gif ^

Yes I too know the desire to commemorate one's pillaging run with art, writing and flourish.
Write on Sir Blip, and make Steven Elliott Vinson proud!
We are watching

Blip · 2014-04-12 08:41:19

Now we get to the fun part: Harris starts building and robbing, and begins creates the fortune which, later, lets him rob Scott. Thanks for all the support, guys!

Part 2: The Entryway

3/24/14 (continued) - Well, I guess I had to do what Snyder told me, so I put the $2000 he gave me into my vault. I attempted to lock the vault in some way, but there seemed to be no lock on it at all! This so-called "vault" was more of a cabinet, so that anybody could take my cash - which seemed pretty stupid. Traci pointed out that we had received some catalogs from those warehouse stores ("Tools" and "Furniture"), and that I might be able to buy a better vault there. I glanced through the furniture catalog, and was sort of surprised to see no actual furniture. It was full of weird, gigantic electronics parts (they're the size of a small rug), and hideous deathtraps. And the blurbs for each trap this store was peddling was horrifying:

"Electric Floor - The only trap that fries those idiot robbers to a crisp! It's like a wire, but it kills!"
"Pit - Want a wall, but more deadly? Look to further than the Pit! Any wrong step sends robbers tumbling... to their deaths!"

I figured that this was how I was supposed to protect my stuff. I told my wife that I would be "remodeling", and decided to work on my plans for a small deathtrap. I wanted electric floors, but knew, from looking in the "Tools" catalog, that if a robber was presented with some upfront he would know just to bring wire cutters. I decided to make crossing the electric floors both deadly and, even if you brought the right tools, useless. As I devised this plan, I realized how truly morbid it was - I would be trying to kill anybody entering my house. I had an alarm, but the side of it clearly stated "Police will only arrive 20 minutes after the tripping of this alarm. So don't count on it!"
I also bought a pit-bull as the main killing member in my trap. His job was to help protect Traci and the kids from these robbers - again, I had seen a gun in the tools catalog, and assumed already what it was for. In the end, I had spent about $1600 of my $2000 on my trap. I frankly didn't see how I could get more money.

I headed out to buy food at the ransacked mart. I figured that the free food was a nice benefit of this place, but didn't like the fact that I was going to have to do the shopping. Traci wanted to stay home and protect the kids, and I didn't want her to see the ransacked mart and the true, horrible nature of Las Cruces. I grabbed some bread and various condiments, plus some more beef jerky for myself, and headed back to the house.
When I showed up, my door was firmly locked from the inside. I knocked loudly, hoping that Traci would come open it, but there was no response. I waited there for a few minutes, worried about what might be happening: my money could be stolen and my family could have been killed. I tried to shake out of that mindset. I didn't know that this was a town of robbers, I was just assuming the worst. For all I knew, I could be the only person in town with a deathtrap past their doorstep. My gut feeling doubted it though. My gut feeling, it turns out, was right.

The door unlocked with an audible click, and I headed inside, to find an electrified, dead body, sitting in the center of my three electric floors. The phone was ringing, so I picked it up. I was informed by a mechanized voice that I had killed a criminal and would receive a bounty of $2600. I was free to use this money however I wanted, and it had (exactly how, I'm not sure) been placed into my vault.
I made some upgrades to my house, most notably adding a powered trapdoor right before the vault, hooked up to the same wire as the final electric floor. I also invested in steel walls, which are more costly to cut through. I quickly ran out of cash again though, and figured that I needed a more reliable way to get money than waiting for bounties. I would have to start robbing.

Last edited by Blip (2014-04-12 08:42:20)

MMaster · 2014-04-12 08:52:00

This is perfect! Thanks Blip for being awesome

Blip · 2014-04-13 09:13:16

This next bit covers some petty robbery, one big score, and then the fateful story of Mr. Hamblin, an experience that transforms Harris entirely.

Part 3: Fortress of Solitude

3/25/14 - I decided to take a shot at robbing my next door neighbor. I would to take a quick peek in his house, then go back to grab any tools I would need. His door was, conveniently, unlocked, just as everybody else's must be. Inside was a horrific sight. Directly in front of the doormat lay his family, brutally clubbed to death. His wife had been searched, her money taken. Worse was the children - they were killed for nothing. And the exact same thing could happen to my kids. I wouldn't let that happen, and so I needed money. The only way I could support my family was by robbing.
This guy's house (I honestly can't remember his name) was really simple. There were some pit-bulls behind door, and some electric floors, and a button. The problem was that the button was totally avoidable, and I could saunter my was right to his vault.
My next neighbor's place wasn't much better. He had one of those two-corridor electric floor traps, where two Chihuahuas follow you and you have to choose up or down. The windows keeping the Chihuahuas back were broken, however, and so grabbing the cash was merely a question of setting up the buttons properly beforehand and then crossing to the vault. He had no family. I assumed that they were already dead.

When I returned home, there was a newspaper on my doorstep. The front page cover story told of how David Michael Scott had been robbed, and showed a picture of his house. The entire back half was made up of powered doors - an incredibly expensive setup, but one that probably would function as a very good trap.
Back at my place, I made some small upgrades, then began to plan some bigger robberies. There was a Mr. Jones with about $10k who lived nearby, so I figured that I would give his place a shot. It looked like a relatively docile home at first, but soon, after an attempt to guess a combination lock, I was confronted by a swarm of pit-bulls. I managed to get out with my life, and began plotting a true heist of Jones's place. I would go in with boatloads of drugged meat, and then saws to cut around the dog room. Behind there I would bring a ladder in case of a pit. I also carried one gun, just in case.
The heist went perfectly, and I landed myself a nice $10,000, all of Jones's money. From that, I assumed that I had found another bachelor - or widower. That night, I made sure to go over emergency procedures with the family, focusing especially on what to do when a robber comes in. I hope they remember it well.

3/28/14 - I made about 10k in bounties last night, so I figured it was for an upgrade. I'm hoped to put some more traps in front of my cash, and some more pit-bulls in front of my family. I hoped those weren't mutually exclusive. Turns out that they way I designed things, they were. Traci says it's fine though, and I'm trusting her.

Here's the new place:

Anyways, I've been getting a lot more scouting, and some people seem to know the way through my first trap by now. The second one seems to stump them for the most part. What I've really been most worried about aren't the 2k scouts, but a certain Mr. Hamblin, who certainly seems interested in my place.

3/30/14 - They're dead! Hamblin killed all of them! The monster clubbed my family one by one. He is a cold-hearted killer who deserves every evil this world can provide. I can guarantee one thing - I will get my revenge.

3/31/14 - Last night I did the deed. By my hand, Hambin's family has suffered the same fate as mine - but they deserved it. I'm innocent, not a murderer, but he... he deserved no family at all. I am in the right here, and he is in the wrong. The innocent will always get their revenge.

I bought a painting today. It's called "Dermatillomainian Abyss". I guess it's my only company in this cruel world.

Police Report: 3-30-14, Report of Murder:
Three people were killed by Mr. Hamblin. One was shot, and two were clubbed.

Police Report: 3-31-14, Report of Murder:
Three people were killed by Mr. Harris. One was shot, and two were clubbed.

GotABigTrap · 2014-04-13 15:03:05

There has to be a part 4 because I see nothing about the diabolical 512 step clock that made so many believe they were trapped; however, although created by a mad scientist, Harris saw right through it with a stroke of brilliance. Mr. Brit honestly never expected anybody to figure it out so easily. Sadly for Mr. Brit, it was the only thing he had left in life. Determined to end it all, he hung himself in the cat room next where the rest of his family and so many others met their fate.

Last edited by GotABigTrap (2014-04-13 15:04:05)

Blip · 2014-04-13 15:08:11

GotABigTrap wrote:

There has to be a part 4 because I see nothing about the diabolical 512 step clock that made so many believe they were trapped; however, although created by a mad scientist, Harris saw right through it with a stroke of brilliance. Mr. Brit honestly never expected anybody to figure it out so easily. Sadly for Mr. Brit, it was the only thing he had left in life. Determined to end it all, he hung himself in the cat room next where the rest of his family and so many others met their fate.

Scott and Brit are going to the main focus of the next part. I really loved your trap, so I'll definitely be describing it in detail. Also, your cash was what funded the final additions to the Harris house.
I think that this story will probably be 5 or 6 parts total, plus an epilogue. I'll also be doing a full house breakdown in a different thread.

FreeLove · 2014-04-14 16:52:42

Amen on the 512 step clock. Loved that trap!

As for Mr. Harris, this is as far as I ever got, before you updated your house, and I got real busy at work all week:
http://castledraft.com/editor/NYe1lT

Blip · 2014-04-15 13:16:00

FreeLove wrote:

Amen on the 512 step clock. Loved that trap!
As for Mr. Harris, this is as far as I ever got, before you updated your house, and I got real busy at work all week:
http://castledraft.com/editor/NYe1lT

So you were the one who got so far! Good job!

Blip · 2014-04-15 13:49:16

And now for the part you've all been waiting for: Scott and Brit get robbed! Harris also goes a little bit insane, as you'll probably be able to tell. But his new house is nice! I'll do a full house write up soon.

Part 4: the Gamble

4/2/14 - I have nothing left to live for. I bought another painting, called "Dermatillomanian Cultivation". It looks nice with my first painting. I guess that these were the paintings stolen from the Getty. If I was a hero, I'd get them all and return them. But I just clubbed a man's children to death - I'm no hero. So I guess I'll keep my paintings to myself...
Anyways, it doesn't really matter. A good chunk of the paintings are all held by David Michael Scott, and he's too rich for me to rob him. I guess I could, though. I wonder is his house changed much from when I saw it in the paper. I bet it has, but there's no harm in trying. I could die, but at this point I'd embrace death; it would finally get me out of this place.

Police Report: 4-3-14, Report of Major Robbery
The house of David Michael Scott was robbed of $120,000 and 51 paintings by Christopher Alvin Harris. Harris came equipped with 15 wire cutters, 20 saws, 5 explosives, 10 crowbars, 10 pieces of drugged meat, 10 bottles of water, 10 bricks, and one handgun. In the course of the robbery, Harris used 6 crowbars, 4 explosives, 13 wire cutters, 2 saws, and 3 bricks. As Mr. Scott had no surviving family members, nobody was killed.
Unfortunately, the police were unable to arrive in time, as the 20 minute first responder delay had not yet expired. Why do we have that policy anyways? It seems rather dumb...
Security cameras captured this image as Harris approached Scott's vault:

4/3/14 - I'm rich! I have art! It was worth it! Nobody will stand in my way! I guess it may have been a bad idea to spend all my new money on paintings, though. I have to stop those idiot robbers, coming to take my art. You'll never have it, you little fuckers! You won't take what's mine!
I'll just grab somebody else's money to make some upgrades. I guess I'll just try Brit's place.

Excerpt from a notebook titled "fuckers out to GET ME", written by Christopher Alvin Harris on 4/3/14:
Brit's Place: I think he's got a clock. Clocks are dumb, why would he have a clock? Turn off the clock, Brit! You don't deserve your clock! You don't deserve your money! GIVE IT TO ME!!!
*Illegible Scribbles follow for a page and a half.*

Testimony: David Charles Brit
"He kept coming in, bypassing my entrance trap, and just running back and forth. I was worried he might know the solution. When the door opened, he left. Then he came back with more tools, but not enough. He left again... when he returned, he cut upwards. He took my money! *sobbing* It was all I had, and he took it!"
-Note: David Charles Brit later hung himself in his own trap. He will be missed. His house blueprint was later released in the local newspaper, showing his 512 step clock: http://castledraft.com/editor/hHRuAT

4/4/14 - I have a new place, and it'll stop you. It'll stop ALL OF YOU! You'll all think you're SO GREAT, but then you'll be DEAD. And I'll have your tools. And then, and then... I'll BUY MORE ART! I always hated the Getty. I hate you all. Nobody can keep me from my art. NOBODY, DO YOU HEAR? NOBODY!

Cylence · 2014-04-15 15:25:07

I like how he's getting insane as time goes by.

MMaster · 2014-04-15 16:39:27

Cylence wrote:

http://i.imgur.com/b82eW.gif
I like how he's getting insane as time goes by.

Do you want to hear end of the story?

Cylence · 2014-04-15 16:41:23

MMaster wrote:

Cylence wrote:
http://i.imgur.com/b82eW.gif
I like how he's getting insane as time goes by.
Do you want to hear end of the story?

Already know the ending, but life is in the details!

Edit: grammar police.

Last edited by Cylence (2014-04-15 16:41:44)

MMaster · 2014-04-15 16:42:14

Cylence wrote:

Already know the ending, but the life is in the details!

It was just a joke. Like when you read good book and your friends tell you ending

Blip · 2014-04-15 16:44:57

MMaster wrote:

Cylence wrote:
Already know the ending, but the life is in the details!
It was just a joke. Like when you read good book and your friends tell you ending

I'm going to have some fun with the diary of the batshit insane Harris at the end, so there will be at least that. Also, I doubt you'll guess what'll happen in the epilogue.

Blip · 2014-04-18 15:59:35

Well, here we go. Harris has lost his head, but found some nice paintings in the process. It would be a shame if something were to happen to them...
By the way, the series isn't over just yet. There will be an epilogue, plus the full Harris house breakdown is here (clicky!) if you want to know more about the place that the least sane art collector in Las Cruces lived.

Part 5: Fried

Excerpt from a notebook titled "even MORE fuckers are out to GET ME", written by Christopher Alvin Harris on 4/4/14:
Herbert: another clock? I'll just cut through your cheap traps. You think your clock will keep your money safe? Brit's didn't, and he didn't use cheap fucking electric floors! Walls are thin too, I'll just smash my way in. Nobody will stand in my way.

Police Report: 4-4-14, Report of Major Robbery
Robert Troy Herbert was robbed for $60,000 and 12 paintings by Christopher Alvin Harris. The robbery was performed by force; Harris used cutting tools to break through any walls between him and Mr. Herbert's vault. Multiple animals were drugged in the process, but no people were injured; both Herbert's wife and son were unscathed.
Again, first responders arrived too late by slightly over 16 minutes. It is my personal advice that that the police stop waiting 20 minutes before showing up to crime scenes.
Note: the author of this particular police report was fired the next day for "stupid comments".

Testimony: Robert Troy Herbert
"I was waiting for him ever since I robbed 2 houses myself in the past 24 hours; it was karma. My ego prevented me from upgrading my house, even though I did have a layout prepared that would have costed me $30K and fundamentally change the route to the safe. I just didn't want to reset my kill count, so I dumped all my cash in tools that he's probably relishing. At least I still have my wife and son, and they'll always be there for me."

Excerpt "even MORE fuckers are out to GET ME":
Herbert: another clock? I'll just cut through your cheap traps. You think your clock will keep your money safe? Brit's didn't, and he didn't use cheap fucking electric floors! Walls are thin too, I'll just smash my way in. Nobody will stand in my way.
You still have a wife?! Goddamn it, now I need to kill her! Why must you make this so hard on me? I'm the real victim here, forced to kill all these innocent families. I have to waste so much money doing this!
Oh, well. Time to die, Mrs Harris!
*a heart drawn in Harris's own blood follows on the next page.*

Testimony: Robert Troy Herbert
"Why? Why did he do this do me? He already took my money, why kill her?"

Police Report: 4-4-14, Report of Murder
The wife of Robert Troy Herbert was shot by Christopher Alvin Harris. Harris also took all the money that she was holding for himself. Herbert's son was unharmed.

4/6/14 - I only have one big target left: Buckley. I need that third Sarsaparilla painting, and those two other ones. If Buckley would just DIE like so many of the OTHERS, I could just buy his art, but nooooooooo. He has to wait for me to come take it! Well, you know what, Buckley? I WILL! Say your prayers, Buckley, because the wrecking crew is coming! Your art will be mine, and all your money too! You will fear my name: CHRISTOPHER ALVIN HARRIS!

Obituary, from the Las Cruces Times
Christopher Alvin Harris passed away on April 6th, 8:17 AM, in the house of Ronald William Buckley, in Las Cruces, New Mexico. The cause of death was an overdose of electric floor. Harris was an art lover all his life, ever since he began painting at the young age of 4. In grade school, he pursued his dreams of becoming an artist, and in college ended up getting a degree in Art History from Florida Atlantic University. Harris was a curator at many art museums, eventually ending up at the prestigious Getty in Los Angeles. After fleeing from accusations of art theft, Harris moved to Las Cruces, where he quickly become assimilated into the lifestyle; like most of our other citizens, he became a widower, a complete lunatic, and had incurable kleptomania. His crimes were numerous, but he always took pride in one thing: he only killed three women and two children while staying in Las Cruces. That, he claimed, was revenge enough for Traci and his children.

Thus ends the story of Christopher Alvin Harris: the man, the artist, the legend.

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#1 2014-04-11 17:51:28

The Life and Times of Christopher Alvin Harris (With Part 5!)

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