In the late 1920s, medical science was advancing slowly, still based very much around religious aspects in society. If you were not a middle-to-upper class, Caucasian, God-fearing citizen, you were not accepted in general population. One must understand that there were many people who hid their true selves, and the ones who didn't were simply sent away.
Below is a non-fictional story, pieced slowly together with information found after studying St. Gabriel's Catholic Institution for the Mentally Unstable, a psychotherapy ward in Jamestown, Virginia. What you will see here may shock you.
On an undefined date, a young man of a large build was accepted into the institute. He reportedly led himself in, calmly speaking to the women at the reception desk, stating that he very much needed to be there. The nurses were confused by his attire, written as being "Cotton potato sacks, covering entire body, from head to ankle, a single smaller sack over the head, tied around the neck." The doctors were reluctant to do so, until the man tore off every single piece of clothing covering his body, other than the smaller one shrouding his face. The man was covered in markings described only as "signs of the devil within him." These marking are believed to be carvings into his skin, being the only noticeable markings on any picture of the man.
The man was quiet in his time there, allowing the staff of the Institution to clean him, speak to him, but with no signs of reply. The markings were eventually gone, and new clothing given to him, but the sack on his head remained, not by his wishes or that of the staff, but for the reason that it was permanently molded to the flesh of his face. Upon attempting removal of the sack, the staff was met by howls of pain and ramblings in what seemed an unknown language. When the man spoke, it was in violence and incoherent, often it seemed he was in a trance like state, strength becoming near superhuman, needing quick overtaking of his person before he lashed out on everything in his path.
It was nearly a year before a procedure was done to attempt to better the man, an attempt that somehow failed. A local anesthetic was administered to his cranium, then the sack slowly cut into, skull lightly broken, so that his brain could be seen. As the doctor began to attempt adjustment of the exposed region, he noticed an oddity. This "man" did not have a brain. It was an empty pool of blood inside a bone skull. The doctor reached one finger in to find that the contents of his skull burned directly through the latex operation glove, dissolving the top of his finger, but not cauterizing the wound. The doctor underwent a chemical shower wash, yelling frantically that the nurse needed to close the skull of the strange embodiment.
The body was closely examined to discover that there were no internal organs, just hollow pieces of flesh holding the same strangely acidic blood. As the physical observations were made, so were many closer mental evaluations. None of the records of these remained other than one journal, labeled simply "Painting" written in blood. This journal described a painting later found in the building under a bed that housed a patient. Whether or not the bed was of the "Man" is unknown. The meaning of the painting is unknown as well, other than the quick, blood-scrawled quote "I do not fear Satan half so much as I fear those who fear him." written across the back, which is believed not to have been written by the man, but of a staff member. It is also known to be a quote from Mother Theresa of Avila.
It was unanimously decided by a board of city officials that the man was in need of being immediately euthanized, screaming and howling continuously day after day, night after night, as if being burned alive, after the loss of his painting, having been taken by another patient. It was deemed necessary for the man to be burned alive, being that he had no organs to be affected by other means. As the man stand, tied to a cross, he howled and shook, screamed and tossed, attempting to break free. An executioner walked forth, bearing a lit torch to start a flame beneath him, many of the staff watching, praying for the earth to be rid of the vessel of Satan.
The crowd spread in fear as they heard the loud snap of the wooden cross around him, freeing him. He ran quickly into the building as if he knew exactly where he was going, as if something was pulling him. He quickly pulled a door off of its hinges, exposing the room of a young girl, suffering from Down Syndrome. Not much was known of this disease, many assuming that she was a vessel of the Devil as well. The man grabbed the painting from her room, beginning to be calmed of his rage. The girl attempted to retrieve the painting from him. "Don't take my mommy away from me! I don't want to lose her again!" The man was quickly angered by this, grabbing the girls lower jaw, tearing it off in a monstrous attempt to be rid of the noise coming from her mouth. Realizing that this did not work he slammed the back of her skull into a nearby wall, effectively silencing the girl.
The man was immovable and volatile, leading to the eventual sealing and burning of Saint Gabriel's Catholic Institution for the Mentally Unstable. Upon surveying of the area, the "Man" described was never found.