The Letters Of Death

Letter 17

We meet again, Detective Jack.

Hey, I like that new starter. I should re-create the rules of writing letters. Hell to the dear person starters. Ha. Imagine if there was a world without any criminals, wouldn't that be paradise for you, Jacky? Jacky, ha. It reminds me of the female name 'Jackie.' I should start calling you that instead. It'd be better, don't you agree? You're probably cursing at me right now. I know how mad you're getting. I know how frustrating it is knowing people are dying around you and you can't do jack all. Ha, you get it? Well, do you? Anyway, who cares what you think? Well, I don't, that's for a fact. 

Anyway, moving on from my psychotic moment, I found out that one of the students from my last letter didn't die. How unusual, right? Surely an umbrella being stuffed up their butt would have done the job. But, I guess it failed like you fail. You haven't found any corpses yet, tutut. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, I remember. I went back to the college to find that student trying to beat herself up with a darn magnifying glass. What the hell? Apparently, she enjoyed it too much. Damn it. She wanted to feel more pain, Jack. And, you know what, Jack? Yeah, that's right, I granted her wishes. I went into the college canteen's kitchen. I stole a knife. I legged it back into the class she was in. And, guess what? Yeah, I slit her throat. She died instantly. I hope that she doesn't come back to life again. I really can't deal with that chick any more. 

Anyway, I must go! Bye for now.

Yours sincerely,

The Iron Ripper.

P.s I've really gone off that name now.