Your Friend, Alex

Your Friend, Alex: Part 12

To whom it may concern,

My name is Alex Potanis. The date is December 31st, 2034. I am 36 years old. If you're reading this, I'm already dead. My parents are dead, and I never had any kids of my own so release this to the public. My adoring fans. Firstly, I'd like to apologize for my last film, as that was a bigger crime than any I'm about to confess to in this document. I mean that movie is dogshit. It's really fuckin' bad. I digress. I fell in love with film as a young boy, and always loved the medium due to its ability to transport an audience into a world not of their own, while simultaneously telling a story that they can relate to. Two hours of escape in a lifetime of disappointment, hardship, and pain just seemed beautiful to me. I wanted to give that to everyone. However the truth is, I no longer feel that way about film. I got everything I ever wanted. Not because of talent or hard work, but because of a dirty trick. None of you will believe me, that's fine. I've accepted it. This letter really is more for me than it is for you. Not because I feel bad about what I did. To tell you the truth I adored it. But because before I go, I don't want to hide it, and nothing could make me ashamed of it. When I was 27 years old I made a deal with Satan. Now I know what you're thinking. "Jesus Alex lost his mind after twenty-something days in jail." I assure you it's true. In exchange for providing the entity known as Satanas two souls every three years, he gave me my start at Warner Brothers, somehow getting me in the door to make my first film, an infinite money supply which I could never lose no matter how much I gambled or snorted away, and put me in peak physical form so that I might indulge in the temptations of women for however long I could. These three things I never lived without for the rest of my days. As you can imagine, at first the terms of this deal frightened me. Killing two people every three years seemed a daunting task. However, I grew to love it. There's beauty in murder, and as someone wise and beautiful once told me, "Murder is an artform." My most acclaimed film would've never happened if it weren't for my killings, as I took her life story to adapt it to screen. It was beautiful inspiration, and many of the films you know and love of mine have kill scenes inspired by my many rituals. The LA police officer I murdered was not my first. In fact, I've killed seven total counting him, and had officer number two not been so quick with his gun, the numbers would've been eight and counting. This may seem hard to believe for most of you. I understand. The atheist culture we reside in would lead you to believe that men are evil for the sake of being evil alone, rather than to have some driving motive pushing his wicked actions forward. I've written this to put those notions to bed once and for all. When the police inevitably search my LA home, once this letter comes out, in my right bedside table, they will find six small glass cubes. Inside of these cubes with be six pairs of human eyes, preserved for my pleasure, taken from the heads of six victims for my rituals. However, while they will find the eyes, they'll never find the bodies. They could dig up the entire Pacific ocean and uncover not one measly bone. Their bodies were transported to a realm beyond the physical, Satanas being my accomplice in that he would remove the bodies post ritual, leaving me with no physical evidence to speak of. I divulge all of this information not to assuage a guilty and unresting conscience, but to pose a question I've been mulling over since I became incarcerated, waiting for my death. What would you do? In my shoes, a broke, lonely, and isolated twenty seven year old, what would you choose? Would you take your moral high ground? Sit upon your high horse as I know you all will when my confessions are made public? Or would you achieve your each and every desire with one sentence. Killing gets easier, that I can tell you from experience. Some might even enjoy it. The question however, still remains. Many actors in my industry toss aside friends, loved ones, and colleagues every day to get to the top of the game, shitting on everyone below them on their way up. How is that any different from what I have done for my success? There are no rules. If you wanted something, and had an opportunity, you would take it. No question. Lie to yourself if you must. Project publicly to make everyone believe your goodness. However, there are three people you'll never fool. Yourself, Satanas, and me.

To my fans. Thank you for enjoying my work. Hopefully this deepens your appreciation. To my victims. Thank you for your stories and your sacrifice. Our time together I consider my greatest art piece and a crucial part of my legacy.

See you in Hell.

Your Friend,
Alex