Name of Victim: Charles A. Malito
Age of Victim: 67
Sex of Victim: Male
What Is This Testimony About: Hospital Protocol Death
State: NV
Name of Hospital(s) victim was admitted to (List All that apply): Centennial Hills Hospital
Did the victim survive? No
Date of Death: 08/19/2021
Contact Name: Linda Malito
Relationship to Victim: wife
Was the victim a military Veteran? No
Was the victim considered special needs, or did they have any kind of disability? No
Was the victim admitted to the hospital? Yes
County Hospital is located in: Clark County
Date Admitted: 08/08/2021
Was the victim isolated at any time during hospitalization? Yes
Does the victim or family feel they were treated differently by hospital staff as a result of disclosing their vaccination status? Yes
Was the victim or family pressured to sign a Do Not Resuscitate? Yes
Was the victim physically restrained? No
Was the victim deprived of food and water while in the hospital? Yes
Was victim placed on a ventilator? Yes
What medications were administered to the victim by doctors or hospital staff? Ativan, Fentanyl, Remdesivir, Sedatives
What medications did the hospital explicitly refuse to administer to the victim? Budesonide, Ivermectin
Has this incident been reported to any agency such as VAERS, HHS, JACHO, Medical Board or others? I tried to hire lawyers
Place of Death: Hospital
Would you be interested in participating in podcasts or other media? Yes
“He Went In for Help… and Never Came Home: The Tragic Loss of Charles Malito”
Charles A. Malito—known as “Chuck” to those who loved him—was a 67-year-old husband, a man whose life was rooted in love, family, and quiet strength. To his wife Linda, he wasn’t just a name on a hospital chart. He was her partner, her companion, her home. But in August of 2021, everything changed. What should have been a temporary hospital stay became a nightmare that ended in his death—under circumstances that Linda believes were anything but natural.
Chuck was admitted to Centennial Hills Hospital on August 8, 2021. Like so many others during that time, he entered the hospital seeking care. Instead, he was pulled into a system that would isolate him, deny him basic human needs, and ultimately strip him of his life.
From the moment he was admitted, Chuck was cut off from the outside world. Linda was not allowed to be by his side. The isolation was immediate and absolute—no comforting presence, no advocate, no ability to witness what was being done to him. This separation, described again and again in testimonies across the country, left patients like Chuck vulnerable and voiceless.
As his condition progressed, troubling patterns began to emerge. Linda and her family were pressured to make critical decisions under duress—including pressure to sign a Do Not Resuscitate order. These moments were not presented as options grounded in hope or recovery, but as inevitabilities—framed in fear, urgency, and finality.
Meanwhile, Chuck was subjected to a cascade of aggressive medical interventions. He was administered powerful drugs including Remdesivir, Fentanyl, Ativan, and other sedatives. These medications, often given without full transparency or informed consent, left him increasingly incapacitated—unable to advocate for himself, unable to communicate clearly with his loved ones.
At the same time, treatments that Linda believed could have helped him—such as Ivermectin and Budesonide—were refused. The pattern was clear: limited options, restricted choices, and a rigid adherence to a one-size-fits-all approach that left no room for individualized care.
Then came one of the most devastating aspects of Chuck’s ordeal—he was deprived of basic sustenance. Food and water, the most fundamental elements of care, were withheld. As his strength faded, so did his chances of recovery.
Eventually, Chuck was placed on a ventilator. For many families, this moment marked the beginning of the end. What was presented as a life-saving measure often became a turning point from which patients never returned. In Chuck’s case, his decline accelerated rapidly after intubation.
Throughout it all, Linda was left on the outside—watching, waiting, and questioning. She could sense something was wrong. The lack of communication, the inability to be present, the decisions being made without her full understanding, it all pointed to a system that had taken control away from both patient and family.
Just eleven days after being admitted, on August 19, 2021, Chuck was gone.
Linda didn’t just lose her husband—she lost the chance to fight for him in real time. She lost the ability to comfort him, to hold his hand, to ensure his wishes were honored. What remains is grief… and a deep, unresolved question: What really happened inside those hospital walls?
Chuck’s story reflects a pattern seen across thousands of testimonies—patients isolated from loved ones, denied alternative treatments, heavily sedated, deprived of basic care, and pushed toward invasive interventions. These are not isolated incidents. They point to something far more systemic—something that demands to be acknowledged and investigated.
These are not just tragedies. They are egregious crimes against humanity that must be exposed and stopped.
That is why Betrayal Project USA exists.
Betrayal Project USA is a national, victim-led organization built by those who have lived through this kind of loss. They are giving victims and families a platform to tell their stories—uncensored, unfiltered, and preserved as part of the historical record. They are seeking accountability, pushing for reform, and building a community of support for those who have suffered institutional betrayal.
Chuck Malito’s story is now part of that growing record—a voice that will not be silenced, a life that will not be forgotten.
Call to Action
If you or a loved one has experienced harm from COVID-related hospital protocols, policies, or medical interventions, you are not alone—and your story matters.
You are a Medical Crime Victim, and your voice is critical in exposing the truth.
Please document your story and share it at: betrayalprojectusa.org
Together, these testimonies are shining a light on what happened—ensuring that these crimes are recognized, that justice is pursued, and that no family has to endure this kind of loss again.
Because silence protects the guilty.
But stories… create change.
