‘Holy shit,’ she said. ‘That is crazy.’

‘I know,’ Alice said. ‘It arrived this morning. It was inside our house, in the kitchen.’

Kay’s eyes widened. ‘What did you say?’ she said.

‘I know. And there’s been another murder. Nadia was here with the detective earlier.’

Kay shook her head. ‘It’s sick. All that stuff about her skull breaking – I mean, who the fuck does that kind of thing?’

‘I don’t know. I really don’t.’

‘And what do they mean, they have plans for you?’

‘I don’t know that, either.’

‘So what are you going to do?’

Alice puffed out her cheeks. ‘Write about it,’ she said.

‘Aren’t you scared what might happen? They’ve been in your house, Alice.’

‘I haven’t been,’ Alice said. ‘Up until now.’

‘Up until now?’ Kay said. ‘Are you safe, Alice?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Alice said. ‘For the first time, I’m starting to wonder.’

Thursday, 26 August 2021

Alice

SICKENED BY GRUESOME LETTERS

FROM CRUCIFIX KILLER,

BUT JOURNALIST WON’T STOP

By Alice Sark

Like the rest of the public, I recently learned of the tragic, pointless death of Janice Kettering. Ms Kettering is the latest victim of the so-called Crucifix Killer – I use this name reluctantly as it feels wrong to dignify this second-rate excuse for a human being with any moniker that suggests they are anything other than a sick and twisted murderer – her body found early on Tuesday morning.

Unlike the rest of the public, however, I was expecting a new victim, as, after committing their latest crime, the killer had posted a letter through my door.

It is the latest in a series of such letters, but by far the most disturbing. In it, the Crucifix Killer talks of their boredom and the need to kill it inspires in them.

There is talk of the pleasure – they use the word delicious – they take in knowing a town – a country – is waiting in fear, anticipating their next move.

There is talk that they are a chess master, manipulating the police, their victims, the public – and me.

But worst of all, there are details of the crime itself. Of the look in Janice’s eyes as she realizes what is about to happen, of the feeling of the hammer sinking into her skull, of watching her breathe her last.

It is the letter of an ill person. Of an evil person.

As I read it, on Tuesday morning, that is what I felt. The chilling presence of true evil.

The kind of evil that must be stamped out, so that Janice Kettering is the last person to encounter it.

It was the most read feature on the Daily Herald’s website. It had posted Tuesday evening and overnight Alice had had requests for pieces from India, Australia, Canada, the US, and South Korea. She agreed to them all; now she had only to write them.