The Letters Of Death

Letter 6

Oh, Detective.

All hell hit loose last night with the prostitute. I ended up walking in on her with some old man. I wasn't impressed. How dare she sell her body to an older man. I feel like I'm not good enough for her. I stormed downstairs in the mood. How could she have sex with an old guy in my bed? It's disgusting. She's a disgrace to the human race.

I decided to take my anger out on my clothes by ironing them. She entered the room. She told me she knew that I am The Fear Killer. I got angry with her. I slammed the iron into her head and face several times. It felt good. I don't want to be The Fear Killer any more. I want to be The Iron Ripper. It sounds better. I decided to cut her body up and eat her.

I don't think you'll be able to find any of the bones. I hid them all over. I hid them in places, even you wouldn't expect.

I'm going to the pub now.

Yours sincerely,

The Iron Ripper.

P.s your wife likes pansies, just saying.