Killer leaves a threat to The Observer

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Early on this morning, I was headed to The Observer, at around 1:35 AM. There I had already saw a man standing outside the door but he never went inside. I thought this was a rare sight before a basic drop off. When the casually dressed man had left through a back alley, I had saw that in his absence, he had left a letter. Of course, I had to observe it. It was interesting.

 

It read:

 

Dear Observer,

You observe with your eyes
Your ears and the lens on your toy culprit
Pitiful machine, you’re a toy operated boy
One rusty coin can rattle your dispenser
What comes out, what goes in?
What lousy sights are you onto?
What sins?

Now that the blood has dried
Now that the skin had run cold
Wag a tongue in shame, tut tut
Sucked into my Jar-O;
Steaming pile of sh-t
Designation left unrehearsed
Sorrow, upon the poor
belated truth no more; researched.

Are you glad for your memoirs,
the bright hearse with the singing lights?
I question you. Yes you.
Did you finally get the shark to bite?
Frustration ignition, old motor kicking
Heels licking the bag; pathetic!
Coroner, Commissioner, fanatic
Hopeless romantic
Sexual Deviant, manic!
HPD foot-licker
F-cking psycho!

When my castle made of stone grows taller
Yours of sand shall be but a mustard seed, understand?
But in the window, a man who’s a figment
of his own disgrace is your make believe land!

You observe with your eyes
what the flesh can’t speak
Your ears on the things that a victim can’t preach
Your toy culprit, shove it, it’s hard yet weak
Blame. Blame. Blame.
The witch will hang! Fire! Fire!
Tiny, little liar. All the same.
I stand behind the scenes
I am the source of these things
Know me by name-
see me.

I stand alone
You are my guest, Guy, in my home
And you are not welcome, word of warning
Dare you take heed when the Master comes calling?
Killing in the name of-
Killing in the name-
Killing in the-
Killing in-
Killing.
Again.
Again.

And again.

 

 

 

There wasn’t a signature left whenever I found it just loosely hanging there under the mailbox lid, but I did turn it over to the HPD. I am really hoping that whoever this guy is doesn’t have something against the man here who works for The Observer. Or, even me.

 

-Frederick Lounds (of TalesinCrime)

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