My first interview as a freelancer came a year too late, built on false pretenses as I assumed most arrangements were between a recent grad and a potential employer. Both parties always over-promising and often under-delivering. The writing sample I sent along was a hard-hitting investigative piece about the monopolistic practices of campus food vendors. While it was never printed in the actual college newspaper, it was buried deep on their website, a fact the gentleman on my screen didn’t need to know. I graduated college as a double-major in journalism and criminology over a year ago, but focused mostly on journalism toward the end. After being there long enough to achieve the first degree, I decided there was nothing about criminology that interested me professionally. I loathed police officers as fascists, the correctional system as racist, and the court system as unconstitutional, so I did what any rational 22-year-old would do in the same situation. I doubled-down on student loans and picked a new major, believing the first one a terrible mistake. Two years later and saddled with crippling debt, my classmates and I spent graduation night discussing our grand plans, then lamented the absence of job offers from any multimedia benefactors. Some of them went to work for local news outlets, others back to the job they had in school, and still others tripled their wager by moving on to a PhD.
“So, I’ve got a few pitches for your website…?”
“Actually…we have something specific in mind. Your location really placed you ahead of the other candidates who’ve interviewed thus far,” the face interrupted.
“My location?”
“Indiana. There’s a convention coming to Indianapolis next week. We’ve been reaching out to our network of freelancers around the city, the state, in Illinois, and some in Ohio for the last couple months, but everyone backs out once they see the assignment.”
“How bad could it be?” I asked.
I thought the screen froze.
“That’s kind of what we’re hoping to find out. Have you ever heard of NoxMods?”
In fact, I had not until that conversation/job offer. The editor of an online news outlet situated somewhere below Vox or Buzzfeed and above a personal blog offered to pay a dollar a word and I accepted right there in that online meeting room.
I received an email afterward from my new employer apologizing for the lack of information, but that was the point of the assignment. There was a link pasted in the body, along with two attached files. One was a digital flyer to something called NoxCon and the other was my registration information to the mysterious convention. The link took me to what should have been a toy company, but the toys were odd. Like cheap statues, a mix of art and collectible. The website itself was brightly colored with pop-ups for a mailing list and a banner featuring “shop, blog, media, apps, log in” as options. The middle of the page kept cycling “New Release” NoxMods of the strangest variety. In the “About” section, I discovered that NoxCo was founded in 2017 in the United States as a collectibles company specializing in pop-culture characters featured in horror films. A sculptor’s rendering of characters from the films are shrunk down to approximately 4-inches, then molded in resin. They are then painted, not in their original, terrifying representation, but “cutesy”. Imagine a Japanese kitty cosplaying as Dracula. Then imagine the same Japanese kitty cosplaying as your favorite horror movie killer/monster/ghost/antagonist and you have what I saw on the website. I collected things like this, but they’re superheroes and cartoon characters and advertising mascots, not things that give children nightmares. The list of filters in their online store featured classic horror, 80s slasher, animated horror, novels, comics, zombies, urban legends/folklore, space, the middle-ages, Early American, gangsters, spree killers, cult leaders...
What?
I clicked “cult leaders”. A tiny collectible resembling a friendly hippie, shirtless in bell-bottom jeans, smoking a resin joint was the top result. The swastika on its forehead was nearly obscured by the “Sold Out” stamped across the image.
“No way,” I said as I tumbled down the rabbit hole.
I never read Fear and Loathing, but like most with counterculture fathers, I did see the movie. Through research, I learned more about Hunter S. Thompson, read a few books, watched YouTube videos of him working the late-night talk show circuit, but never read Fear & Loathing. I called a friend of mine on the drive north toward Indianapolis along a stretch of interstate that resembled bat country and while he wasn’t my lawyer, he did work in downtown Indy and was an authority on the dark corners of geek culture.
“I know downtown is busy as hell,” he said.
“GenCon bad or ComicCon bad? I asked.
“Absolutely not. More like Indy Comic Con on a Sunday. The drive home still sucked, but at least there was good “people-watching”.”
“Jesus, why haven’t I heard of this?”
“It’s kinda new. I didn’t even notice it until my comic shop started pushing those models.”
“Models?” I asked.
“Yeah, that’s what they’re called. Keeps NoxCo from being sued for calling them “toys”.”
“Isn’t the warning in the name?” I asked.
“Yeah, but you put these things in a toy aisle at Target and Facebook will blow up with outrage.”
“I believe it...especially after I saw their lineup.”
“Yeah, the horror movie stuff makes sense with the genre starting to enter streaming services. I can’t open Netflix anymore without it curating a preview for some 80s slasher knockoff or a Poltergeist retread.”
“What’s the deal with real people, though? The killers?” I asked.
“Ooooohhhhh.....that was out of left field. My comic shop guy refused to pre-order THAT line. Said it was in poor taste, which is surprising for a comic shop owner.”
“He’s not wrong, but they did the same thing at college. They’d push classes about serial killers and organized crime real hard, but not for educational reasons. Hell, I think the probability of anyone interacting with a serial killer is the same as winning the lottery while getting struck by lightning. Classes were always full, though.”
“It’s probably why the Ted Bundy Mod trades so high,” he said.
“Wait...what?” I asked.
“Oh yeah bro...there are like 2 documentaries, a movie, and four podcasts about him just this last year. It’s morbid, but people eat this stuff up,” he replied.
“So, do you need a place to crash while you’re up here?” He asked.
“Uh...what? Oh...no, no...I’m staying at the Hampton downtown. I was hoping to catch some attendees in a setting outside the convention. I’m interested in how this thing even exists, but I think the real story is going to be about the fans.”
“Well, good luck with that, but I’d feel better meeting those people in a brightly lit, heavily secured convention center. Not the place I sleep.”
When you go to a convention, you make peace with a few things. First, you’re gonna see some strange stuff. Second, some things will have a religious following. Lastly, somebody is selling something related to the previous two. But the NoxCon program book and complimentary convention bag I picked up at will-call was unlike anything I’d seen before.
9:00am Breakout Session: The Methodology to Jack the Ripper’s Madness
9:30am Breakout Session: Villainy throughout Film History
10:00am Breakout Session: Raising a Murderer: A Mother’s Struggle
I figured I’d have a better chance of meaningful conversation with a fan if I spread out in the hotel lobby and loudly rustled through my new bag of “goodies”.
It took three minutes.
A giant, portly man with a salt n’ pepper beard, more pepper than salt, sunk into the chair across from me and peered into an already-opened welcome bag.
“I can’t wait til’ tomorrow,” he said, opening his program book.
“Same here.” It wasn’t a lie. We just found ourselves excited for different reasons.
“Have you checked out the exclusives yet?” He asked.
“Uh…no, I just started mapping out my attack. I’m kinda new to NoxMods, so I’m not sure what to expect.”
“Oh man! This’ll be my third! Did you know this con has doubled in size each year? NoxCo just announced on Twitter they’re projecting this one to do the same.”
“Hard to do with so many pop-culture conventions in the Midwest. What makes this one different?”
“The company. All those other conventions are run by “organizers”, but this one is backed by NoxCo itself. It’s an experience, like D23 or Celebration. Not just a place to go buy stuff.”
“So, what’s it like?” I asked.
“Imagine you and hundreds of other fans flooding the convention center together, everyone there for NoxMods...it’s almost a religious experience.”
“Any “can’t miss” events?” I asked, flipping through the program.
“Oh...well, the CEO of NoxCo does a Q&A on Saturday night. It's like a state of the union address for all of us. Um....just like any other con, swing by “artist’s alley” because last year, I bought this rendering of one of the Zodiac Ciphers. Of course, they also announced the Serial Line that year too.”
“Serial Line?”
“Yeah, are you sure you’re at the right convention?” He ignored my blank stare. “The Serial Line of NoxMods launched after the con last year. They released three, each part of a different series. Jack the Ripper, H. H. Holmes, and Ted Bundy.”
“Like international, historic and modern series?’” I asked.
“Basically, it’s gotten more nuanced since then. According to the message boards, there’ll be a surprise tomorrow too.”
“Another line of mods?”
“Even better! The fan community thinks we’re finally getting photo and autograph opportunities this year. Can you imagine? The chance to meet people who investigated serial and spree killers? The cops and FBI agents who arrested them? The biographers who know them better than anyone? Or the victims who survived? That would be amazing!”
His face reddened as the color drained from mine. He smiled so big his eyes squinted into tiny slits, like the fluorescent lobby light had finally become too much.
“Can’t wait,” I said through a forced grin.