22YR OLD KILLER EXECUTED by Firing Squad,Burned Victim’s Eyes,Wrote with His Blood,17 Years on Death

The breaking news from the Department of Corrections tonight confirms that the state of South Carolina has carried out another execution. Forty-four-year-old Steven Bryant died by a firing squad less than an hour ago. Bryant was put to death for the brutal murders of three people in Sumter County back in 2004.

The triple murderer made no final statement and briefly glanced at the ten witnesses before a hood was placed over his head. Moments later, the shots rang out. Bryant is now the third South Carolina inmate to die by a firing squad this year, marking a grim milestone in the state’s justice system.

On November 14, 2025, Steven Corey Bryant was escorted into the execution chamber at the Broad River Correctional Institution in Columbia, South Carolina. He was forty-four years old, having spent nearly half of his life behind bars. The long journey from his death row cell to the execution chamber finally concluded a twenty-one-year legal battle.

When the curtain to the execution chamber was pulled open at 6:00 p.m., Bryant was already strapped to the firing squad chair. His feet were shackled, his arms were strapped behind him, and his head was secured in place. Bryant made no final statement. He briefly glanced at the ten witnesses before the black hood was placed over his head.

Three members of the Tichin family were among those watching, finally witnessing justice for their loved one after two decades of waiting. Around 6:01 p.m., the shade covering the rifle ports was raised. Behind a wall, three corrections department volunteers stood with rifles aimed at a target marking Bryant’s heart.

The shots rang out about 55 seconds later. Bryant made no noise. The red bullseye target that marked the location of his heart flew forward off his chest. He continued breathing shallowly for thirty seconds. Blood began staining the fabric on his chest. About 70 seconds after he was struck, witnesses heard him make a cough-like noise and a jerking motion. Bryant was officially declared dead at 6:05 p.m., three minutes after being shot in the heart.

Bryant was the third South Carolina inmate to be executed by a firing squad, an option he had specifically chosen over the electric chair and lethal injection. Brad Sigman was executed by a firing squad in March 2025, the first execution of its kind in the US since 2010. Mikl Madi was also executed by a firing squad in South Carolina a month later in April 2025. South Carolina has now matched Utah’s three-decade record of three firing squad executions in just eight months.

Bryant faced execution for the October 2004 murder of Willard Irving Tichin Jr., a sixty-two-year-old retired Air Force sergeant who had made the fatal mistake of showing kindness to a stranger. Tichin had invited Bryant into his isolated Sumter County home after Bryant claimed his truck had overheated.

The two men talked for hours before Bryant pulled out a stolen handgun and shot Tichin nine times. But Bryant did not stop there. He tortured the dead man’s body with cigarette burns, ransacked his home, and then answered Tichin’s cell phone when his wife and daughter called, taunting them with the news of the murder.

He left messages written in the victim’s blood, signing them “The Prowler” and challenging law enforcement to catch him. But Tichin was not Bryant’s only victim during those terrifying October days. In a single week, Bryant shot four people, killing three of them.

Clinton Brown was shot in the back while fishing at the Wateree River and somehow survived. Clifton Gany, a thirty-six-year-old father who considered Bryant a friend, was murdered on a dirt road and had his trailer burned to destroy evidence. Christopher Burgess, a thirty-five-year-old motorcyclist, was killed after making the mistake of accepting a ride from Bryant at a convenience store.

The community east of Columbia lived in absolute terror as the bodies accumulated and the killer remained free. Bryant’s execution was the state’s fifth of the year and the third by firing squad. South Carolina is now tied for the second-most executions of any state in the country this year, alongside Texas and Alabama. Florida leads all states in executions with sixteen so far in 2025. Bryant’s last meal consisted of two egg rolls, three stuffed shrimp, two candy bars, German chocolate cake, and a Pepsi.

Before we examine that final day in the execution chamber, there is a story that needs to be told. A story about a boy from Sumter County whose brain was damaged before he was born. About a child who suffered unspeakable abuse at the hands of those who should have protected him. And about a young man who begged for mental health treatment just weeks before his violence began.

Steven Corey Bryant was born on April 12, 1981, in South Carolina. From his earliest days, his life was filled with problems that would only escalate as he grew older. His mother suffered from a serious drug and alcohol addiction while she was pregnant with him. She went on drinking binges that exposed her unborn baby to harmful levels of alcohol.

Doctors would later testify that this exposure to alcohol and drugs before birth caused lasting damage to Bryant’s brain. This damage made it difficult for him to make sound decisions, understand the consequences of his actions, and control his behavior. The harm done before Bryant was even born would affect him for the rest of his life.

When a mother drinks heavily during pregnancy, it can cause a condition called fetal alcohol spectrum disorder. Children born with this condition often have trouble controlling their impulses and making good choices. They may appear normal in many ways, but their brains do not function in the same manner as others. Bryant came into the world already facing a massive disadvantage.

Bryant’s childhood was full of trauma and chaos that would have devastated any child. His home life was unpredictable and frightening. His father was physically violent, and his mother continued to struggle with addiction and mental illness throughout his youth. Children need safety and love to grow up healthy, but Bryant had neither.

Before he became a teenager, Bryant was sexually abused by several male relatives. The abuse started when he was just six years old, an age when children depend completely on adults to protect them. Instead of protection, Bryant was violated. The abuse persisted for years. Three men in his own family sexually assaulted him repeatedly throughout his childhood. They took advantage of a small, defenseless boy who had no one to turn to for help.

The abuse did not stop with his family. A preacher’s wife and several women in his neighborhood also abused him during this time. Being hurt by someone connected to a church added to his confusion and deep-seated pain. Bryant could not escape the abuse by leaving his home or finding safety in his community. The people and places that should have protected him instead caused him lasting harm.

These horrific experiences left deep, psychological wounds that Bryant would carry for the rest of his life. They shaped how he viewed relationships, trust, and his own value as a person. His aunt, Terry Calder, later described seeing Bryant as one who looked tortured, as if his soul had been ripped open.

She noted that he seemed to be living through the abuse all over again as memories resurfaced. The pain he had repressed for so long was rising with terrible force. The effects of his traumatic childhood showed up early in his life. Bryant struggled in school from the very start. He showed signs of low mental ability and poor emotional control from elementary school onward.

He could not keep up with other children his age. He had difficulty understanding social situations and forming healthy friendships. Teachers documented his problems in school records, creating a clear history that this was a child in trouble. But even with all this evidence, the school system failed to provide Bryant the support he desperately needed.

When he was just eleven years old, Bryant was first locked up in the juvenile justice system. This early contact with courts and detention centers initiated a pattern that would continue for the rest of his life. The juvenile system was intended to help young offenders find a better path, but for Bryant, it completely failed.

Being locked up did not address the root causes of his problems or provide the mental health treatment he required. Instead of receiving therapy for his trauma and support for his learning disabilities, Bryant was held for a short period and then released, no better than when he entered.

Bryant’s first serious encounter with the law as an adult occurred in his late teens. By age nineteen, he had begun committing burglaries. The cycle of incarceration that started at age eleven persisted. The juvenile system had failed him, and the adult criminal justice system did the same. In the early 2000s, he was arrested and convicted of burglary, receiving an eighteen-month prison sentence. Some accounts suggest he served as much as three years for attempted burglary.

Either way, Bryant spent a significant portion of his young adult life behind bars. Prison did nothing to help him address his psychological burdens. He received no therapy for the sexual abuse he had suffered as a child, no treatment for the mental health conditions that had been developing since birth, and no help for his drug addiction. The prison system simply held him for a time and then released him back into the same environment that had created him.

After his release, Bryant returned to Sumter County and attempted to build a normal life. He wanted to do better and stay out of trouble. He found work as a carpenter with a local construction company owned by Garris Vanney. The job offered him a chance at stability, a regular paycheck, and a sense of purpose.

Bryant was described by his employer and coworkers as generally pleasant and hardworking when he showed up. People who met him during this time had no idea what he had survived or what he was truly capable of. He seemed like a regular young man trying to make an honest living. For a brief time, it appeared Bryant might be able to create the stable life he had never known.

However, his performance was inconsistent. He struggled with poor attendance and had difficulty meeting the standards expected on the job site. During this time, Bryant formed a friendship with a coworker, thirty-six-year-old Clifton Gany. Gany had moved to Sumter County a year earlier to be closer to his two sons.

The two men worked together and spent time outside of work. They went on fishing trips and hung out with each other’s families. Gany considered Bryant a friend and had no way of knowing this friendship would cost him his life. In 2003, Bryant was fired from the construction company due to his poor attitude and reliability.

The loss of his job was another major setback. He had tried to build something normal and had failed. The rejection reinforced the narrative he had received his entire life: that he was worthless and did not belong in society. Without steady work, his financial situation became desperate.

Despite being unemployed, Bryant remained in the Sumter County area. He moved in with his girlfriend, Norma Janine Betts, at a mobile home park on Eagle Road. Betts was the mother of his daughter, and the two had been together for some time. She later described how different Bryant had been when they first met in North Carolina.

Back then, he was a pleasant young man who held a job and seemed to be doing well. But after they moved, everything changed. Betts watched Bryant fall apart. She saw him hang out with the wrong crowd and become addicted to crack cocaine. The man she had known in North Carolina disappeared, replaced by someone she barely recognized.

The drugs changed him completely. He became unreliable and increasingly desperate for money. The stable life they might have built together crumbled as his substance abuse took over. Bryant continued to struggle with addiction and mental health issues throughout 2003 and into 2004.

The methamphetamine and marijuana he used to escape his pain only made his problems worse. He had never learned healthy ways to deal with stress and trauma, so drugs became the only tool he had. His financial situation grew more desperate by the day.

By the fall of 2004, Bryant was still on probation from his earlier burglary conviction. He was supposed to be checking in with officers and staying out of trouble, but he was falling apart. The structure that probation was meant to provide meant nothing when his underlying psychological issues remained untreated.

In September 2004, the memories of his childhood sexual abuse became overwhelming. The pain he had tried to bury for years flooded back with terrible force. Bryant finally sought help from a probation officer and told his family about the abuse. For the first time, he spoke about the three men in his family who had sexually abused him starting at age six.

Recognizing he was in crisis, Bryant tried to get professional mental health counseling. He explained to the facilities that the memories were tormenting him and that he felt like he was losing control. He was honest about his drug use and his mental health symptoms. He did everything a person in crisis is supposed to do, yet he was turned away.

The reason was devastatingly simple: Bryant could not afford to pay for treatment. Without insurance or funds to cover therapy, the facilities refused to help him. By early October 2004, Bryant had reached a breaking point. Whether through conscious choice or a deeper spiral, he decided to commit a series of crimes.

For several days, Bryant drove his distinctive blue and white pickup truck through rural Sumter County. He spent hours behind the wheel, driving slowly through neighborhoods and past isolated properties. He was hunting, casing homes that were far from main roads. This was not random behavior; it was methodical planning.

He looked for properties with long driveways and heavy tree cover that blocked the view from neighbors. He observed which roads had little traffic and which areas seemed empty during the day. Sumter County’s landscape made it an ideal location for his plans.

The area is filled with dirt and gravel roads that wind through wooded areas between Shaw Air Force Base and the Manchester State Forest. These are quiet country roads where a truck can drive for miles without passing another vehicle. The privacy that residents valued, which allowed them to feel safe, now made them vulnerable to a predator.

Neighbors were often too far apart to hear what happened at nearby properties. Screams would not carry across the distance, and gunshots could easily be mistaken for hunters in the woods. Bryant’s approach was calculated. Despite his mental struggles, he was capable of planning when it came to crime.

He chose times when working people would be at their jobs, targeting properties where a single person might be left vulnerable. He developed cover stories to explain his presence. Sometimes he claimed he was looking for someone and was lost. Other times, he said his truck had overheated and he needed help.

These requests gave him a reason to linger, to assess the home and land, and to determine if the homeowner was alone. On one occasion, he claimed his brother had stolen his truck and he needed help. This elaborate story required the homeowner to invest time, allowing Bryant to observe the layout of the property and note where valuables might be kept.

Debbie Durant, a woman who lived in the area, had an encounter with Bryant during these scouting days that she would later remember with horror. Bryant drove up her half-mile driveway, claiming to be a contractor who was lost. Something about his eyes bothered her deeply.

She told him she could not help and asked him to drive slowly because her dogs were in the yard. This was a ruse to get him to leave slowly enough for her to record his license plate number. She acted on instinct, and that record would later become vital evidence.

On October 4, 2004, Bryant visited the home of Tom Dennis. The Dennis property sat on hundreds of acres of land, far from the road. Bryant used the story about his brother and the stolen truck to gain Dennis’s sympathy. Dennis, being neighborly, tried to assist with the supposed problem.

He thought nothing of the interaction after Bryant left. It seemed like a random, innocent encounter. But Bryant had gained exactly what he needed: a map of the property and an understanding of how trusting the homeowner was. The next day, he returned with a far more malicious purpose.

On October 5, 2004, Bryant put his plan into action. He returned to Tom Dennis’s property while no one was home. He broke into the home office and searched it methodically. He stole electronics he could sell for drug money and grabbed cash. He was not in a hurry; he searched every room.

The success of this first burglary emboldened him. He had broken into a home in broad daylight and gotten away with it. The fear that might have stopped another person was replaced by a dangerous, growing confidence. Three days later, on October 8, 2004, Bryant committed a second burglary.

This time, he targeted the home of James Ammons, another isolated property. Before entering, Bryant cut the phone wires to the house, demonstrating an understanding of how to neutralize potential threats. If the owners returned, they would be trapped and unable to call for help.

Inside the Ammons home, Bryant found a .40 caliber Smith and Wesson handgun along with ammunition. He stole the weapon, transforming from a burglar into something far more dangerous. Later that same day, his crime spree took a lethal turn.

Armed with the stolen handgun, Bryant drove toward the Wateree River. The river was a popular destination for fishermen, a place where people sought solitude and relaxation. Clinton Brown, a fifty-six-year-old fisherman, was enjoying a quiet afternoon by the water.

Bryant spotted Brown, who had his back to the road, completely absorbed in his fishing line. Bryant walked toward him, the gun hidden. Without a word, he raised the weapon and shot Brown in the back. Brown had no chance to defend himself, but he remained conscious through sheer grit.

He managed to get into his vehicle and drive himself to a hospital. Despite the severity of the wound, Brown survived. This shooting marked a critical turning point; Bryant had moved from property crime to attempted murder. On Saturday, October 9, 2004, Bryant’s violence turned toward someone he knew personally.

Clifton Gany, his former coworker and friend, was about to become a victim. Bryant picked up Gany, suggesting they get beer and steaks for an afternoon of leisure. They drove to a convenience store, where witnesses saw them acting like two friends enjoying the weekend.

Bryant eventually drove Gany to a remote area on Bell’s Mill Road. Both men stepped out of the truck, and Gany turned his back to relieve himself. In that moment, Bryant shot Gany in the back. As Gany turned in pain, Bryant shot him a second time in the head.

Gany died instantly. Bryant left his friend’s body on the side of the road and drove to Gany’s home. He ransacked the trailer, stealing everything of value, and then set the home on fire to destroy the evidence. The fire consumed everything Gany had worked for, leaving behind only ash.

Around 7:00 p.m. that evening, passersby discovered Gany’s body. Law enforcement quickly connected the murder to the arson, realizing they were dealing with an organized and dangerous predator. On Monday, October 11, 2004, Bryant targeted Willard Irving Tichin Jr.

Tichin, a sixty-two-year-old retired Air Force sergeant, lived in an isolated home on Cain Savannah Road. Bryant approached him with the same story about his truck overheating. Tichin, a kind and trusting man, invited Bryant inside. They talked for hours, building a false sense of comfort.

When the moment was right, Bryant shot Tichin nine times. It was an act of extreme brutality. Afterward, Bryant searched the home, stealing jewelry right off the victim’s body. He even used the victim’s computer and smoked cigarettes he found in the house.

In a display of pure sadism, he used a burning cigarette to torment the victim’s face and eyes. While Bryant was still in the home, the victim’s family tried to call him repeatedly. When they finally got through, Bryant answered and taunted the family, calling himself “The Prowler.”

Before leaving, he dipped a homemade potholder into Tichin’s blood and wrote, “Victim 4 in two weeks. Catch me if you can,” on the wall. He left other notes as well, laughing at the investigation. The family, alerted by the bizarre phone calls, contacted the sheriff’s office.

Deputies found the crime scene to be one of the most disturbing in the department’s history. The taunting notes made it clear that the killer was challenging law enforcement directly. By Wednesday, October 13, 2004, the community was paralyzed by fear.

Christopher Earl Burgess, a thirty-five-year-old motorcyclist, was the final victim. He met Bryant at a convenience store that morning. After a brief interaction, they loaded Burgess’s motorcycle into Bryant’s truck. Burgess trusted him, unaware that he was riding to his death.

Bryant drove him to an isolated road near the Manchester State Forest. As before, when Burgess turned his back, Bryant shot him twice, killing him. Bryant took the motorcycle, which would eventually become the key evidence that led to his capture.

Later that morning, a hunter discovered Burgess’s body. Investigators were able to connect the crimes through reports of the blue and white pickup truck and the license plate number recorded by Debbie Durant earlier in the week.

On the afternoon of October 13, 2004, deputies arrived at the mobile home park where Bryant lived. He surrendered without a fight. During interrogation, he confessed to the burglaries, the murders, and the arson. He claimed his victims had threatened him, but evidence proved otherwise; he had targeted them in cold blood while they were vulnerable.

Following his arrest, the grieving process for the families began. The loss of Clifton Gany, Willard Tichin, and Christopher Burgess left deep scars on the community. In 2008, Bryant pleaded guilty to all counts. A judge sentenced him to death for the murders and added a century of prison time for his other crimes.

While on death row, Bryant continued his pattern of violence, assaulting a correctional officer and violating prison rules. His legal team pursued decades of appeals, focusing on his childhood trauma and developmental disabilities, but the courts consistently upheld his death sentence, citing the calculated nature of his crimes.

The execution on November 14, 2025, ended his life, but it could not erase the memory of the lives he destroyed. For the families of his victims, it was the end of a long, painful chapter. For the state, it was the final application of a sentence passed years before.

In his final statement through his attorney, Bryant expressed a wish that others might receive the mental health care he had been denied in 2004. It was a somber conclusion to a story defined by failure, trauma, and senseless violence.

The story of Steven Bryant serves as a stark reminder of the consequences of untreated trauma and the profound devastation one individual can inflict on a community. It remains a case that haunts the history of South Carolina and underscores the complexities of the justice system in the United States.