Wednesday 8 July 2020

Your Mid-Week Update for 07/08/20

“I am very fond of jazz music, and I swear by all the devils in the nether regions that every person shall be spared in whose home a jazz band is in full swing at the time I have just mentioned… One thing is certain and that is that some of your people who do not jazz it out on that specific Tuesday night (if there be any) will get the axe.”

How twisted is that?

It’s one of my favourite serial killer letters. The Axeman may not have had a lot of creativity in his kills, but he knew how to craft a psychotic letter. He lays out specific demands, cites his previous crimes, and uses syntax just this side of uncomfortable. It’s easy to believe the letter was written by the actual Axeman and not some copycat trying to pull a prank on the city of New Orleans (although if it was: props to you, random asshole).

And the demand!

You must have jazz music playing in your house or else I’ll murder you. Can you imagine if that happened today? “Everyone has to listen to the new Taylor Swift album or I’ll slit your throat.” And have people believe you. Cause that was the thing, too. That Tuesday night, so much of New Orleans were locked in their homes blasting jazz and having parties in order to obey the man’s wishes.

To have that much power over a city with a few swings of an axe and a few choice words.

It’s the kind of power serial killers dream of.

Of course, it was easier to kill back then. People were inherently more trusting, and things like locked doors and accepting rides from strangers was just a cultural norm. Really, my predecessors made everything so much harder for the rest of us. More of a challenge. You have to get really creative, these days. Can’t just butcher a few people and demand that everybody follow your Spotify playlist.


I haven’t terrorized a small town in years. That year I went off to college and had my whole campus on edge for weeks when the body of a young woman was found in the fountain; those were the days. Everyone was suspicious and yet overly protective. I wonder what would have happened if I’d made any demands after I killed her. I could have asked for policy changes or demanded arrests be made at that frat house that seemed to have an addiction to rohypnol. I could have pressured the administration into releasing their donation allocation information.

I could have made some real, positive change.

I did some. I blackmailed the dean into resigning and I murdered two of the frat boys during my time (I say murdered, more like I didn’t stop them from killing themselves of alcohol poisoning). But I could have done more.

I sometimes think about legacy. When I’m gone, what will the world remember me for? Will all or some of my horrible deeds come to light and be painted as the heinous acts they are? Will no one learn of them until there is no one left to remember any of the victims? Will I be forgotten?

It’s strange to think about because I have spent so much of my time trying to be forgotten; trying to blend in to the world so no one would notice me sneaking up behind them. But do I still want that in death? Do I want to be posthumously acknowledged for my work, when there are no consequences to be faced? It would destroy my family if I ever went before them but if I didn’t. If, years after we were all gone, someone discovered the truth about what I do, I don’t know that I’d mind as much.

But that is for long after I’m gone. Today, I stay invisible and try to make changes. If I can rid the world of one bastard, or convince one neighbourhood to keep themselves safer, maybe it is possible to have a positive impact on the world despite it all.

I know the ends will never justify the means but once in a blue moon, a murder is absolutely justified, and I’ll always remember that.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

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