Detective.
It's been a whole week since I last wrote to you. I hear on the news that you've been bringing suspects in, yet I've not been interviewed yet. None of them suspects have been me, sorry. I have some grand news for you though! I've busy this week. I murdered the seven recently missing prostitutes.
Why are you trying to find out who I am? God wants me to rid the streets of them. He wants every single one of them dead. If you go against me God will force me to kill you. I don't want to kill you, Jack. You seem like a decent guy. We need more decent guys in this world.
I killed all seven prostitutes with my iron. I prefer killing them with an iron, it's different. I'm different. God sent me down to Earth. I am God's dark angel.
Anyway, I stink, I must go shower.
Yours sincerely,
The Iron Ripper.
P.s you'll never find their corpses!
YOU ARE READING
The Letters Of Death
Short StoryAfter investigating serial homicides, Detective Jack Harper finds letters sent to him from a person who says he is the serial killer.
