(Pictured above, a flyer I made up when Crystal disappeared for a day or so, then returned, only to take off again on the full moon --the Cherokee Moon-- in May.)
Crystal Gayle Davis Hernandez was beaten, raped, and strangulated for four hours on 30th April 2018 by Mark J. ... in his apartment -- #205 at the Salvation Army in Las Vegas NV. Please contact me with any and all info as to her whereabouts...at least let her know that she is missed and loved.
I met Crystal at about 11:00 AM on 30th April, when she appeared at one of the Fremont street performer's designated circles in front of Walgreens, across from Denny's, where I had been having breakfast. She stripped down to pasties and a g-string, and when I went over to her we struck up conversation, whereupon I learned that we were both from Lawrence KS.
At that point, I noticed Mark J. ... (Crystal mistakenly gave the spelling "..."), standing nearby trying not to be noticed, leaned up against a sign, smoking a cigarette. "He's just a friend," she responded, when I asked about him. I said I didn't like the looks of him, but she reassured me that he was OK, just a friend.
"I'll be here til 1 PM, so come back and see me," she said, and so I went off to do some shopping, after having given her my phone number on the back of my lawyer's business card -- Warren J. Geller, Esq., of Cofer & Geller LLA.
When I came back a short while later, they were gone. Oh well, I thought, hopefully she'll call me.
I happened to run into her on Fremont on Saturday 5th May, but I didn't recognize her at first, because she was dressed like just another girl. She grabbed my abdomen as I was walking by, and we struck up conversation again. She had injuries on her eye and forehead (see photo above), and said that we needed to talk right away. What she told me was shocking, appalling, and heartbreaking.
She explained ... raped her on the evening that we met, smashing her phone on her head and then repeatedly strangulating her and re-awakening her, resulting in a crushed esophagus. She had just been released from the hospital that morning and let go on her one with no money, and so she was hoping to work again to make some. Such is the way people are cared for in the overworked hospitals in Sin City.
She told me that ... said he did it to teach her a lesson, and to keep her from me. He was arrested that night, when Crystal was finally able to get free. She said she knew not to resist him, lest he KILL her. I believe she said he eventually passed out, and when the police arrived, they made her strip naked to check for wounds and take DNA probes.
It turns out that ... was actually an ex-boyfriend, who was acting as her "manager", helping to make sure she was safe or something. He is an ex-Marine who bragged about having "hands registered as deadly weapons". I have never owned, nor fired a gun, nor have I been in a fistfight as an adult, but nevertheless, I apparently intimidated him in some way.
As soon as I had left her after meeting her on the 30th, he took the card I had given her and tore it up into shreds, so that she couldn't call me. And then he made her move to a different spot, so that I wouldn't be able to find her again. She would typically make $150 or so a day, standing in one of the performer's circles, posing for raunchy photos, holding peoples' drinks between her 34DDD's and what not. "Real expensive!" she would say, when asked if they were real.
I took her to my hotel room (Fiesta Casino in Henderson), where I cared for her. She couldn't swallow properly because of her esophagus -- they had had a device in there to help it heal from the crushing, but it was obviously not yet fully recovered. We spent a few days there, and then moved into an apartment on #LOL_Vegas's west side.
Here are a few pics from that pleasant time, when we lived as sort of rock stars. She got me started as a Fremont Street performer myself. We worked together a couple of times, with my playing bass and her posing.
Crystal told me she was a retired stripper, the "greatest in KS history'. She was originally from Chicago's gangland, is 3/4 Cherokee and 1/4 Polish, but not to hold the Polish part against her. Her parents, "stereotypically drunk Indians", pimped her out for sex at age four. She also made her first killing in her early teens, over the sum of $1.38. As a pretty young girl in that part of the world, she had been taken in by gang members. I shan't mention which gang, but it is one I had become familiar with by random chance a month before.
When she became pregnant with her first child at 16, she fled to Lawrence, Kansas, where I happened to be born. That daughter, Alexis, now has twin baby boys, whom Crystal was anxious to see back in Kansas. A second child, Nicholas (Hernandez, I presume), was born some time later by her late husband, a black man from Central America. Tragically, Nicholas died of sleep apnia at age 6.
Mr. Hernandez was a type 1 diabetic and commodoties trader. His health deteriorated, and he committed suicide on Crystal's birthday, 22nd July 2015.
From then on, she decided to live as she pleased, giving half of her fortune to her daughter and spending the other half charitably and travelling repeatedly to Las Vegas, where she would live under a bridge whilst working as a street performer. She had survived ovarian cancer, and revealed to me that she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, which is normally very painful and fatal.
During our stay at the Fiesta Casino Hotel in Henderson, Crystal taught me about Cherokee values and faith. She said "we're lovers, not fighters", and so we practiced a sort of extremely intense sensual healing. I have to admit she healed me more than I healed her, because as she said, this episode with ... was but a "blip" in the course of her suffering in life.
She said that I was the only one of her hundreds of lovers who could fully satisfy "the little engine that could", referred to various sensual practices having to do with some sort of Cherokee mysticism. She had me make videos of us together, and told me to send them to people I cared about (including her daughter), since she "wanted to be remembered for the way she really was." And she wanted to live the remainder of her life "smoking (NOT marijuana; she NEVER smoked it once in her life), drinking, f_cking and s_cking".
In the end, I believe Crystal suffers from a sort of multiple personality disorder, with the nymphomaniac "retired stripper" being most prominent during our time together. I won't go into the other two I believe I encountered.
After a day or so at the apartment, I decided to call 911 and have her admitted to the hospital, because I couldn't wake her, and she had told me that she suffered from some rare form what I think I would characterise as "reverse diabetes" as well as the sleep apnia which she said runs in her family. She was kept there for about 48 hours, during which time she was finally able to get the sleep she needed.
At some point during this time, we decided that I would visit Mark J ... in the 9th floor of Clark County Detention Center. Since he had postured himself so forwardly as a dangerous US Marine Corps veteran, I thought I would pretend to be a US Special Forces veteran, and wrote up a list of accomplishments "we" had made. Crystal's idea was that I should not say a word, but simply let him read it.
He knew me by face, but not by name, and so I wrote also that he would "never know my name nor my whereabouts". I had to read him the pages aloud, since he claimed he couldn't read them. I concluded by adding "I wanted to make sure I saw you here, before they take you away to wherever you pussy marines go from here. And get off the Meth."
"I don't do meth, sir," was his only reply.
On the morning of his court appearance, 15th or 16th May, Crystal was fast asleep. I wasn't aware that she was subpoenaed to testify, until I arrived at court alone. I was told by the prosecutor working the case that if she didn't appear, they would have to drop the charges by late afternoon. At some point, a plain-clothed officer (gray hair, blue eyes, obvious steroids or testosterone user type of guy, all puffed up with himself) threatened to throw me out if I acted up, but I don't remember the details owing to my head injury on 23rd April. "I'm a policeman, and I'll have you thrown out of here!"
I rushed back to the apartment and got Crystal ready to appear. When we got to court, four (4) Las Vegas Marshalls were assigned to keep me away, since "neither the defense nor the prosecution wanted me in the courtroom". The same buff cop was there, but this time, he would NOT look me in the eye. (Was it his mistake that led to ...'s release on a technicality later that evening?)
Crystal said she broke down in the vestibule, not even making it into the courtroom. She said the public defender came over and asked what she wanted done with .... "I never want to see him again," was her reply. Later that night, we learned that Mark J ... (whom we decided to call "shitstain on the undies of humanity", because we could not think of anyone else we had ever called that) had subsequently been released on a "technicality", with the case number ... .
Much later, I learned that the technicality was *my* having shown up with her at court, and my outbursts about how I wanted to get my hands on ... had prejudiced the grand jury or something. So I have that guilt to live with, as well as the fact that ... assaulted her because of how we had hit it off to begin with.
Crystal took off on me on the day of the full moon in May. She said that I had broken one of her "three unwritten rules", but wouldn't say what it was. I had just told her about how "Brown Eyes", a girl of my acquaintance since late January, had told me she was pregnant by me. Crystal had previously spoken to her on the phone, and the two seeme to hit it off well. But Crystal is not a simple person.
On 8th December, I finally heard from Crystal. She called on my former maybe-babymama-to-be Layaney Day's phone to say that she had indeed returned to LOL_Vegas after visiting her daughter and grandchildren for a while in Kansas. She did, sadly and ironically, encounter ... once again. He proceeded to BITE HER ON THE NOSE.
Laylay sent a photo of her to me, where the scar on her nose is plain as day, but she also looks like she's deteriorating from the cancer. She said she was living in a tent under the bridge by the Salvation Army again, and had to go before her stuff would get stolen. "I love you, babe," was the last thing she said. I've not heard from her since.
I can't save everyone. I wish I could, but...