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Sender: : :)

Subject : Attention.

Sent : 91713 7:22 PM

 

Attention April Graves, Cynthia Robertson, Michael Parks, Carol Ford,  Mike Mullins, and Myra Reid.

If you are receiving this communication it is because we have taken an interest in you. Your kind has far too long been free to reign destruction on the lives of the innocent.  We cannot just idly stand by with the rest of society while you pen sick and twisted love notes with the blood of your victims.   

You will know the pain of your victims.

You will know the fear of your victims.

You will beg for mercy, just like them...


Enjoy the coming transition.

 

- :)

 

 

 

Lower Manhattan

September the eighteenth, two thousand and thirteen.

3:54 PM

A large, unruly crowd stands outside of a small Manhattan restaurant.  Signs can be seen sticking out above the mass of people, some who are chanting and shouting beneath an overcast afternoon sky.  A medium built man, with long and thin black hair and a crooked smile steps in front of the establishment, raising both of his arms in the air.  The crowd quiets down in anticipation of what this man has to say.

“This!” He exclaims, motioning towards the glass windows of the restaurant, which is empty, save for a few members of its staff looking on at the crowd from within its confines. One particular man is behind an ornate podium, frantically talking into a telephone.

Police sirens can be heard in the distance.

“This is a travesty!” He screams at the top of his lungs, dramatically, his voice cracking the slightest bit.

“Damn fucking straight!” A masculine voice shouts from the crowd.

“Tear it down!” A feminine voice rings out, which is echoed a few times across the crowd.

“People die here...good people, innocent people- people who simply have a disease!” The man shouts, pausing dramatically and bending down just a little bit.  “A disease perpetrated upon us by a government that does not care!” The man shouts as four police cars screech to a halt, their lights flashing a strobe pattern of blue and red across the angry mob.  More than a dozen or so uniformed officers frantically jump out of the vehicles, their radios barely heard over the sound of more approaching sirens.

“They don’t care! Look at them! Thousands of murders right under their noses, and they are here for YOU! Not the heartless bastards in THERE!” The man screams frantically, flailing his arms around dramatically.

“Tear it down!” The same woman shouts from the crowd, which echoes through the mass of humanity randomly, but quickly solidifies into a chant. The phrase slowly spreads across the crowd, more and more people shouting until nearly everyone has joined in, thickening the air with fury.  

The man in front of the restaurant stands up straight and smiles.  

“Disperse immediately! If you do not leave the area, you WILL be arrested!” A policeman shouts over a megaphone. A helicopter hovers overhead, roaring above the scene as several large NYPD vans pull up to the disturbance.

“Go ahead my brothers and sisters...” The man begins, speaking softly.

“Tear it down!” He shouts a moment before people begin to swarm around him, cheering and screaming.

The crowd rushes forward, some assaulting the police cars, but the majority barreling towards the restaurant.  One large man picks up a metal garbage can and tosses it through one of the window panes, causing the sound of breaking glass to permeate the mayhem.

a stream of screaming people rush inside as a dozen others rock a police cruiser back and forth, tipping it onto it’s side, its siren whirring weakly one last time before dying off.  

 

 

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