They say you remember exactly where you were during certain milestones or events in your
life. Kennedy's assassination in the September eleventh attacks are two prime examples of this,
but I like to think happier events have the same effect. The day
I moved to Los Angeles would be one of those moments for me. Obviously,
I remember where I was because I was moving to a new city,
but I can still see downtown Burbank, the Ohio University shirt I was wearing,
giant billboards up on the Warner Brothers lot Ez, etc. It was
late May twenty sixteen, the twenty fifth to be exact, and I was
nervous, excited, but nervous. I would soon be meeting the other students
from my university doing the semester in La summer program with me, and of
course we all wound up going to this bar in West Hollywood, just like
we were still in college. My nerves were gone, and I was now
just excited to explore the city and start my summer internship. Little did I
know the anxiety and fear someone else was feeling literally down the street from where
I was. Welcome to Deadtime Stories. I always think I always think.
I always think, imagine growing up in the richest neighborhood in Toronto. Your
father, Lauren, was an athlete on Canada's sailing team in the nineteen seventy
six Olympics held in Montreal, and today is one of the wealthiest real estate
developers. Your mother, Eleanor has made a name for herself too, thanks
to her father, Paul. Paul patented several items for Albros. Products and
his daughter inherited all of that money. I appreciate the judgment right now,
though you can't focus on any of that because Lauren and Eleanor's marriage is on
the rocks. Blake Libel sometimes pronounced lebel and other places Liebelle sat in his
bedroom listening to them argue. He'd soon learned they were divorcing and splitting him
up from his older brother, Cody. Cody was just a year older than
Blake and would be living with Lauren in the most expensive neighborhood in Toronto.
It's not fair, Mom, Why does Cody get to live in the lap
of a luxury while I'm sticking this dumpster. Just for the record, the
Dumpster was the second wealthiest neighborhood in Toronto. It's not the nicest place to
live, but we'll be happy here. Blake, stop complaining and help me
unpack. Well, I doubt is it making Cody unpack? Your father probably
isn't doing much of anything right now. Blake's jealousy of Cody grew as he
did. In Blake's eyes, it wasn't just the fact that Cody was in
the more expensive home. It was more about Cody's relationship with Lauren. While
they grew closer, Laurene iced Blake out to get a fresh start at life.
Blake moved south to Los Angeles in two thousand and four, when he
was in his early twenties. His goal, like so many others, was
to break into the entertainment industry as a writer. Hollywood had varying perspectives on
him. What exactly is your plan, Blake? Oh, I have tons
of ideas. Tons. There's this graphic novel I've been working on, and
I'm thinking about calling it Doctor Evil or maybe Syndrome. See, there's this
neuropathologist who wants to find a root of evil in people's brains, so he
slaughters them to find any Well, we do like dark story. How are
you planning on funding this kid. Oh, money is not an object for
me. No, my mom's been sending me checks for rent and projects like
this. The producers looked at each other with the tiniest hints of a grintin
Oh, that's very considerate of her to send you a monthly allowance. Yeah,
I need to ask for more though it's expensive out here. You got
to learn to save your money, I'll say. I mean, has it
even been a year yet and I've used like a quarter million, quarter of
a million bucks? Yeah? What should I be spending more or something?
Blake would. Financial records showed that in seven years, his parents sent him
about one point eight million dollars. No, that's great, good for you,
kid. Sorry, I've had a lot to drink them. I'll let
you read over the syndrome treatment and we can discuss a half a million bucks
spoiled trust fund kids who were talking too. I don't know if he has
the money, we might want to take a look at his projects. He
could be good. A few executives did take a chance on Blake, and
in two thousand and eight he became the creative consultant on the animated series Spaceballs.
Unfortunately, for him. The series only lasted thirteen episodes, and he
didn't do much work after that, unless you include his movie Bald, about
a college student raising money for a hair transplant by posting hot pictures of his
female classmates online. Yeah, not exactly a smash it anyway. In twenty
eleven, Blake's world crashed down. Yo. Hey man, it's Cody.
Dad just called to tell me mom died. What. Yeah, anyway,
I have to go big poker game. I need to get ready for poker.
Wait, you're not still playing Molly's game? Right? Blake was disappointed
but didn't want to lose hope. His mother's estate was worth twelve million,
and it was rightfully his money. Over half Eleanor's money has been awarded to
Lauren Libel. Lauren smirked as he left the court without a single word to
his son, meaning hearing man not good? Huh, not at all.
Blake crashed on the couch and the apartment he shared with his wife, Amanda
braun The Brunette was a very attractive model, and some would say she was
way out of the nerdy Blake's league. I do not support that type of
thinking, but it's important to note as you'll see later, the two met
in two thousand and six and eventually had a son together. Listen, baby,
you've had a long flight and it should be court hearing. Why not
go out tonight. We could go to the bar, have a few drink.
No, I told you, I don't want to do crap like that,
Blake. There's more to life than comic books. There are two things
to cheer me up. Comic books and fucking. Amanda cocked her head to
the side with a cheeky smile. Well, if you don't want to go
to the bars, maybe we could do one of those things together. Blake
grinned as Amanda sauntered to their bedroom. God, yes, baby. Their
relationship was far from perfect, you see. By the summer of two fifteen,
Amanda was pregnant again, and as much as Blake loved having sex,
he was getting bored with Amanda, and a young Ukrainian woman named Yanna Cassian
caught his attention. Yanna was born on January twenty seventh, nineteen eighty six,
in the Ukraine. She was a tax lawyer, but, being fluent
in English, wanted to start a new life as a translator in America.
One day, she told her mother Olga, Mama, I'm booking flight to
America. I've would raise your grandchildren there and you can come stay with us.
Oh my baby, I am so proud of you. Gianna was adventurous
and loved being in Los Angeles. She often shared her experiences with Olga,
snapping pictures at the Walk of Fame or anywhere else she happened to travel.
Somewhere along the line, she bumped into Blake, whoa, sorry didn't she
bowling down her without star Sorry, it's hard to take selfie before these people.
Oh for sure, I hate this place. I mean it's it's tubular.
You've never been, ever been? No, no, I just flew
in yesterday. Oh sweet, we're from Keith. That's rad. Oh here,
let me take your picture for you? Would you? Would you want
to grab a drink later? I could show you around some of the less
crowded sides that would. Blake and Gianna grew much closer, so close that
Blake decided to use some of that allowance money to pay for an apartment just
for Yanna. It was nice for Gianna because she had a gorgeous apartment on
Holloway Drive in West Hollywood. And Blake finally had someone new too, you
know. Oh oh boy, that was good. Wasn't that great? Yeah?
Fuck? Whoa, what's wrong, babe? I mean, Blake,
I love you so so much. But what about Amanda? Baby, don't
worry about her anymore. I'm filing for a divorce and then it will just
be me and you and the baby. That's right, you and me and
what baby. Yanna looked at Blake with an uncomfortable yet hopeful smile. Oh
no, no, no, no no, I don't know if I'm ready
for another baby. No, this this is okay. It's the perfect excuse
to give Amanda for why I'm divorcing her. So we'll have this baby out
and we'll start your American dream. But until then, I have to go
back home pretend like everything's all good between me and Amanda. I'll see you
in the morning, Okay. Well, Mamma, I told Blake about baby,
yes, and and he's very happy. He wants us to get married.
Mama, Oh, my sweet angel, I am so happy for you.
But but what about the other a woman they are divorcing? Mama,
Mama, It's perfectly normal for people to do that today. I know my
sweet, but I want to meet him as soon as I can get to
flight to America. He must be perfect for my daughter. Olga flew in
just in time for the birth of her granddaughter, Diana on May third,
twenty sixteen. Blake was divorced and planning to marry Yanna, and everything seemed
to be looking up. He went on several trips with Yanna, bought her
and Mercedes, and finally moved into that apartment on Holloway Drive. She's beautiful,
my beloved. He did say my beloved in Russian, which is cute
because it got him points with Olga. But for the sake of this podcast,
I'm going to spare myself the embarrassment of trying to say it in Russian.
Anyway, after he said my beloved in Russian, he kissed Yanna,
then Diana. Olga watched on, skeptical but still with a smile. To
Olga, Blake seemed satisfied with her daughter, and that was all she wanted.
Why would he be sleeping? Mama took baby for VECNS so you and
I can relax. Great Great Gianna cozied up next to Blake as he watched
a superhero film. Oh Man this is the best part oh logo game to
visit. Blake chuckled as he pulled his erect penis out of his gym shorts,
much like a horny middle school boy. Since the baby's gone, you
want to ride him? No baby, you heard doctor, I'm still recovering
from C section. No sex and put your mouth around it. That didn't
give birth, did it, lay Jesus Christ. I'm just trying to show
you how much I fucking love you. Okay, how about this. We
don't have to fuck since you had to have that surgery or whatever. But
what if I go to Constance's apartment to night and fuck her? Hey?
What you aren't putting out? And I promise I'll only think of you?
Oh my god, I'm going to bid Okay. So I don't know if
that's exactly how this went down, and I really hope it's not. But
Blake did constantly threaten to leave Janna if she wouldn't to have sex with him
mere weeks after giving birth. And yes, there was another woman. He
was having an affair with, Constance Buoka Fury. Again, the details are
a little murky, but Constance lived in another property that Blake rented On May
twentieth, twenty sixteen, as I was loading up my card moved to Los
Angeles, Blake was driving up to Constance's apartment and his. It was a
little before midnight. As she opened the door, Blake, God, what
are you doing here so late? He wanted to give you a kiss good
night? Oh my god, Blakey, We've talked about this. Please don't
call your penis him. It totally turns me off. Okay, okay,
okay, I mean I was thinking about you all day and thought, why
not go make love to the most beautiful Yeah, I'm gonna stop you there.
I don't want to have sex anymore. I think this is turning into
a thing that I'm honestly not wanting. What Like, you're cute with your
comic books and all, but like I need an adults with a real job,
and fucking bitch, I drove all the way over here to give you
the best sex ever and just just fucking love me. Just lift up your
scarp in five fucking minutes, Okay, he did ever touch me again.
We don't know how all of this went down, but we do know.
Police arrested Blake on suspicion of sexual assault. You're free to go, mister
Lebeal. You made bail. A disgruntled Blake shuffled out of the cell where
Yanna was waiting for him, arms crossed and eyes puffy. He gave her
a hug and they walked out. I mean it was the least he could
do after she had bailed him out for one hundred thousand bucks. Olga was
nervous for her daughter. At one point, she felt Blake was happy starting
a family with Yanna, but with his promiscuity and then dropping Diana off with
her, Olga was convinced this wasn't the right choice for her daughter. On
May twenty third, she waited outside the Holloway Drive apartments and smiled when the
young woman appeared in the lobby. Good morning, mmma, ready for a
day of shopping. Fah yus mate, Angel, Diana will love the new
straw. I have least a free called products in my purse and Blake gave
us money foot's from. Are you happy with him? Yes, mamma,
Blake has faults, but he has good heart and creative mind. Mother and
daughter got in a ride share and headed for them all. As Yanna and
Olga shopped, they probably talked about Blake, the baby, Ukraine, and
whatever else came to mind. Then Yanna received a text Blake again. He
sent you so many messages today, my angel. I don't think he truly
loves you. He just wants sex, mamma. They're working on our relationship.
Does he even want this baby? He was so quick to drop her
off with me. Maybe you should leave him and come live with us.
No, I have to stay with him. The next day, May twenty
fourth, Olga called Yanna over and over. You've read, Yanna. Sorry,
I can't get too fond, but leave message and I'll call back soon.
Worried from the change in Jannah's behavior after all of Blake's messages the day
before, Olga let her mother's intuition take over and called the West Hollywood PD.
Hi, ma'am, please hold while we'll get you a Russian interpreter.
Nobody returned her calls, so it's unclear if any officers performed a wellness check
right away. Frustrated, Olga and a friend hailed a cab and went to
check out the apartment. The following day, I think garage gate is lucked,
yes, but I need to get inside. Maybe we could see in
windows from Alessida Street. Come on. The women quickly crossed the road and
gazed up at the third floor balcony. That man is looking down at death,
Blake, Blake, it's Olga. Come and look the gate. The
curtains shut, and Olga grunted in frustration. I'm going to wait for someone
to leave. We'll get inside. The women casually waited outside the lobby doors
until someone left, then snuck inside and rushed up to the apartment. Black.
Please, it's Olga. I want to speak to my daughter. West
Hollywood Shriff Department. Please my daughter, I need someone check on her.
The officers were more helpful this time and promptly showed up. Please knock down
the door. I'm sorry, man, but we can't do that. Nobody's
screaming inside and your daughter ignoring your cause doesn't mean foul play. Do you
have the man's phone number? We could call him. Olga showed them his
number and they dialed Hello. This message is for Blake Libel. This is
the West Hollywood Sheriff Station. We're at your apartment and we need to speak
to you immediately, sir. To nobody's surprised, Blake did not answer the
door. Police walked away with the hope that Blake would feel safe to leave.
They waited outside for two hours, and when he never showed up,
they left. Olga wanted to stay behind, but as she'll remember, baby
Diana was home and needed taken care of. Olga's stomach was in severe knots
now. When she still hadn't heard from Yanda the next day, she rushed
back to the apartment, called the police again and was going to make sure
they got inside. Please. She just give both a few weeks ago and
might need medical attention. Olga was instructed to wait outside the building as the
landlord's shaky hand unlocked the apartment and the office pushed on the door. Someone's
in here. There's a security lock in use m seems calm, Sure it
does. But he's in here somewhere yep. The mother was ready to call.
Look at that. Detective Bill Cotter pointed into the guest bedroom. Blood
all over the headboard. Master bedroom's locked in, barricaded too, Blake Libel,
My name's Detective Martindale. Come on out, buddy. My partner and
I have a few questions. Sorry, man, but if you want to
talk to Janna she's not here. Come on, Blake, Hey, I
think these men just want to talk. Both detectives turned in confusion to the
gray haired man who had suddenly appeared beside them. Who might you be,
sir? Stephen Greene, accountant and friend of Blake's. He called me and
said you were all here, pet stirring him, it's me, buddy.
You need anything, just some pass there's a pair in the dining room.
You got it. Stephen returned with the pants, but Detective Cotter stopped him.
We got to search those first, yes, sir. When he reached
into the pocket, Detective Cotter found a wat of cash and Blake's passport.
All right, Blake, we got your passport in our custody. You ain't
running away to Canada? Now, would you mind unblocking the door? A
wild haired Blake leaned on the doorframe in nothing but his checkered boxers. His
face was badly bruised, and it seemed like he hadn't slept much, but
still he had a charming white smile plastered to his face. High officers,
what can I do for you? The men looked past the comic book artist.
At the bed, a woman lay in it with ghostly white skin and
a Mickey Mouse comforter up to her chin. The rye shot between the grinning
Blake and the bloody bedspread. Blake, you said Yanna wasn't home, But
isn't that her? Blake turned to the bed and gasped, oh oh,
I didn't see her there. She usually snores when she sleeps, Blake,
she's dead, she is, well. I guess you'll find out who did
it? Then, all right, I don't think I'm going to spoil anything
at this point. When I say, Blake looked over the body of Yanna
with a razor blade in his hands. Detectives had yet to arrive, and
Olga was busy calling the cops to investigate. We don't know what caused their
initial fight, but Yanna had fought back against Blake, which is why he
was with bruises and a bite marker too. Now, just a warning,
this next scene is going to be graphic, so if you're squeamish or have
children around, please skip ahead. That'll teach you not to say no to
me next time I want to have sex. What's wrong with me? Huh?
Am? I really that repulsive to you that you don't want me in
you anymore. You're just like the others. Women just want me for my
money and they find everything else about me. Ugly told you Blake's looks would
be important later. Let's see what's going on in that pretty little head of
yours. Blake took hold of Janna's neck and cut into the back of her
head with the razor blade. He meticulously cut a path along her scalp before
dropping the razorblade and using his hands to tear off the rest of Yanna's scalp.
Tiskeyanna, you're getting blood everywhere. Blake wrapped the body in a bed
sheet and dragged it down the hall to the bathroom. He then carefully drained
all of the blood from Yannah's body, a death known as xanguin nation.
As the blood slowly drained, Blake pulled out his cellphone and opened a very
important app. Dwelling Burgers of Tacos. Security footage showed that Blake had food
delivered multiple times over the next few days, and each time he'd called the
driver and say just leave it outside the door, I'll get it in a
minute. I'm sure you wouldn't want your poor delivery driver walking in on a
crime scene either, As Olga was desperately trying to get police over to the
apartment, Blake was desperately cleaning up. I don't want to imagine the stress
he hopefully felt. Blake stared out his apartment's bay window, totally numb.
Blake Blake off the bat. He knew Yanna's mother cared deeply about so he
needed to quickly dispose of the evidence. He used every towel and spare second.
He had to sop up the blood. Well, this place needs to
sparkle. No old bladder gore. Everything's fine. Blake was a fortunate murderer
because right next to his apartment was the trash shoot. Every so often,
he'd casually take a trash bag or two just a few feet away and tossed
the evidence down to the dumpster before fleeing back into his cave. Blake clutched
his Tommy as he stared through the peep hole and saw Olga with two officers.
Hello, this message is for Blake Libel. This is the West Hollywood
Shriff Station. We're at your apartment and we need to speak to you immediately.
Sure. Desperate, Blake used everything in the apartment to barricade the doors
Steven. Listen, you gotta get over here quick, man. I don't
have time to explain, but the cops are here and you need to grab
my passport. I mean, sure, Blake, whatever you need. Blake
waited in the dark bedroom with Jana's corpse next to him. His heart pounded
as he heard the detectives breaking through all the barricades he'd set up. I'm
sure he knew it was game over unless I can get that passport and jump
out of here. We of course know he wouldn't be able to do that,
and when detectives caught her and Martindale broke into the bedroom, he feged
innocence. You'll need to come to the station, Blake, Oki, doki,
whatever you say. Blake cocked his head to the side as the cameras
flashed in the Sheriff's department. He wore a maniacal smile, black button up,
and a bruise on his nose and under one eye. It was a
look of a psychopath if I've ever seen one. Meanwhile, in the parking
garage of the Holloway Apartment, investigators dug through the dumpsters Blake had so mindlessly
tossed his trash bags into eleven trash bags with bloody Howel's clothes and betting.
Wait a sec is that a handprint on that bedscard? A smile sprouted on
Detective Martindale's face as he examined the prints. One of them was missing a
pinky. Blake doesn't have a pinky, right, he sure doesn't. This
boy is twisted and paranoid. Paranoid. Yeah, been going through his recent
text Look what he said to his brother a few days ago. Hey man,
you need to get out of that Molly's Game business. You're in over
your head and you'll soon have the Russian mob after me. What a crock.
I don't know if Cody was really involved in any shady poker deals,
but his brother seems fine to me. With no other suspects named by either
investigators or Blake, it was time to go to court. The trial opened
two years after the murder in June twenty eighteen. I won't lie. Blake
looked rough in his tiny chair. It seemed as though he had gained a
bit of weight since the murder, and although his face was now clean shaven
and his hair slicked back, he looked dazed and unhealthy. His father never
bothered to show up for the trial, but Cody came every day and kept
quiet without any expression. Jeremy Tensor, an entertainment attorney and friend of Blake's,
also showed up. Beth Silverman served as the prosecution, and Heyday Takasugi
as defense, Your honor, let me start this morning by saying I'm not
sure mister Tensor should be present. It might sway the jury. Just you
to support my friends, sweetheart, and one of our jurors has asked to
be dismissed because she believes mister Tenser followed her home last night. Boll mister
Tenser, you may stay, but be seated, or I will find you
in contempt of court. You couldn't do that if I was part of Blake's
counsel. He needs me, your honor. It's obvious he's being framed and
not getting a fair trial. Bailiff, please remove mister Tenser from my courtroom
at once and strike his words from the record. I'll see you again soon,
Judge mark my words. You may proceed. Miss Silverman, thank you,
your honor. Ahem. It's a Hollywood script. Really, Blake is
a sick, twisted man and his graphic novel Syndrome was a blueprint for him
to live out his fantasies. Blake doesn't like to be told no, and
when Yanna had the nerve to say no to him, he acted out the
fantasy he wrote in Syndrome. Blake gacked at Beth as she held up his
graphic novel Syndrome. Pretty cover, nice blue, with a little baby doll
on it. Notice how the doll's head is sliced open to expose the brain.
Look familiar to anyone. Let me show you those crime scene photos again
and compare the way he let the blood drain from Jannah's body to the doctor
in his twisted sexual fantasy novel Draining the cartoon Women's Blood. The defendant bas
handed us a blueprint, a case of life imitating art. All close with
a few words from Blake himself in Syndrome. Before we think we are deciding
to act. In the end, we all become monsters. When the defense
for her argument, she clutched onto whatever she possibly could. Blake is not
a perfect man by any means. I've seen the anger and discussed in the
eyes of all you jury members, and I ask you to please recognize Blake
has downfalls like all of us. Now, there are few important details to
remember. Yes, the contents of their trash bags belonged to Blake, but
there was unidentified male DNA on the draw strings. Blake will not name it
accomplice, but I believe this is out of fear. You also must remember
that syndrome Marigos writer. The idea might have been Blakes, but he never
wrote it and certainly never came up with the artwork. It's a mere coincidence,
thank you. Not exactly the best case, but what can you do.
After three hours of deliberation, the jury decided that Blake was guilty of
first degree murder. Cody sighed and left with Amanda Braun. Olga cried but
wanted to soak in all the pain her daughter felt as she was murdered and
Blake well. Blake remained just as emotionless as he had been at the start
of the trial. Blake was sentenced to life without parole, and it was
proven he was not insane. Olga took Diana back to the Ukraine, where
Yana was buried. She also filed a wrongful death lawsuit against Blake and won
forty one point six million dollars, but she has not seen a dime of
that money. But perhaps the most tragic part of this story is what Yanna
endured. Her death was gruesome enough, but an autopsy would later show that
it took between six and eight hours for her to die. The coroner said
that her wounds were unlike any he had seen on someone not in a war.
After researching this story, I think I have to agree with Olga on
one of the last days of the trial, Please everyone go home and hug
your children. First edition was written and narrated by me Skyler fasten Now and
executive produced by Daniel Jones. Voice talent was provided by Rainy Blake, Marissapa
Stone, Daniel Jones, Jordan Catcher, Jeanette, Zosh Taylor, Shirty,
Tamra Perry, Ariel Dale, Matt McNelly, Sofia Sasone, Alan, Anthony
Morion, and Jeremy Staple. Our theme music was written performed by Tracy Zdales.
As always, I am so thrilled you decided to join me for another
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real criminals and victims and behind the scenes look at our voice actors. But
if you want to be the biggest fan of our podcast, check out our
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As you know by now, we are a weekly podcast this season,
so you'll be hearing from me in seven short days with a story that you
might find quite bizarre. You'll see what I mean next Wednesday, but until
then, stay safe out there. I don't want you to become the next
chapter's topic. On the Original Dead Time Stories,