Note

You're sad. You are fucking sad. Your friend died today. You say you cared, you will never forget. Listen to yourself, you dumb fuck. You're a sociopathic liar with an attitude and no life. The lies you spin, the falsities you spread about others; that is your lifeblood. You live off other people's adulation, which you generate for yourself by distorting truths and facts. You believe yourself to be loved and deep inside you know you aren't. I have no pity for you. You should be tied to a rock from your neck and left to rot in a dried-up well. People like you are the reason for hatred. You reek of fear and you fear the world around you, you ill-fitting leech. I apologise. Calling you a leech is an insult to all annelids. You will pay, I have no doubt about that. Your rumour-mongering is a disease like the virus you are. I wish for you nothing but pain, physical and mental pain. Solitude. You don't deserve compassion, you don't deserve sympathy. My feelings towards you fuel me. You are, rotten as you are, my force. I admire you for moving me to such extremes. I loathe you utterly and unfailingly for all you are. My self-hatred is strengthened by your existence. May you forever roll in emotional torture. I will be the one stoking the fires. I am giving my blood for your damnation. You wanted attention and adoration from others. Here is my final act in your honour, you faceless nullity.

"This is the note we found inside the victim's abdomen, sir."

"Bag that meat up,
"Who's up for a burger?"