The Similarity Between Serial Killers and Vigilantes

It’s No Surprise that I think of Strange shit, and Yesterday I found Myself thinking about Serial Killers. Specifically I was mentally reviewing the Behavioral Characteristics and Traits that Allow a Serial Killer to be just that  fucking Serial Killers. My Mind began to wonder (as it has a Tendency to do from Topic to Topic) I started to think about Vigilantes which isn’t such a Far Stretch in this Case since Vigilantes Reap Social Revenge/Justice  by Hunting Down Murderers such as Serial Killers and Other Criminal Scumfucks. It was when I started to think about Both Groups Simultaneously that I began to Draw certain Parallels between Them.

       

The Best way I can Explain this is simply by doing a Side by Side Comparison if You will. Now with that said let’s take a look at the Similarities between Serial Killers and Vigilantes. And when its Over You’ll see Just How Similar They Are I assure You. With that said I will be sticking to the Similarity aspects, I WILL NOT be doing the Classically Cliche Amateur Regurgitation of the Full Blown Psychological Profile of EITHER GROUP (No bullshit about Childhood, Parents, Friends, Schooling, Upbringing, Drug/Alcohol issues, Mental Health Issues, Role of Religion, Social Ramifications, Bullying, Physical/Mental/Emotional/Sexual Abuse, and No Nature Versus Nurture Theories ). I’m Not Saying that to be a Dick its just Not the Point I’m interested in, and You can Google the Usual Spiel so it’s Not like Your missing Anything.

       

Let’s Start with Serial Killers Shall We?! What permits a Serial Killer to Kill isn’t What They might Posses such as Schizophrenia for Example, but in What They Lack instead. Serial Killers can Do What They Do (Torture, Rape, Murder, Mutilate etc.) is due to the Fact to Their Lack of Key Human Emotions. Serial Killers are Void of Empathy, Sympathy, Concern, or Caring for Others They don’t see Their Victims as People, but as Objects to Indulge Their Sick Desires. They also Lack Remorse or Guilt so Killing an Entire Family and Eating Their Brains is NO DIFFERENT than Doing the Dishes it MEANS NOTHING TO THEM.

       

Serial Killers unlike Other Murderers (like Mass Murderers or Psychopaths) is They seem to have 2 Specific Type of Victim Profile that They adhere too. The First is Physical Attributes of the desired Victim such as Male/Female, Hair Color, Physical Likeness to Someone significant in the Serial Killer’s Life (Past or Present). The Second is the Serial Killers will Target a Demographic like the Homeless or Prostitutes due to the Serial Killer’s Personal Views on Said Group in Society. The Point is Serial Killers are Killing to Prove Their Point to the World/Society/Humanity or They’re  Slaughtering just to Satisfy Their Uncontrollable Homicidal Blood Lust.

        

Now as for Vigilantes there’s Obviously a HUGE fucking Difference between Vigilantes and Serial Killers in WHO They Kill. Serial Killers are Predators that Prey on the Innocent while Vigilantes Prey on the Predators. The Question would be WHY do Vigilantes Kill? What I’m saying is Most Everyone agrees that Serial Killers are Evil Motherfuckers, and it Seriously Sucks Scrotum that They Exist.

        

So what Motivates a Vigilante to Not Only Acknowledge the Problem, But to then Take Up Arms and Launch a Personal One Person War against it? How can Vigilantes Cross the Line between Hero to Villain and Back Again? And Since Vigilantes are Criminals Themselves because They commit Homicide WHY do People/Society in General give Them a Free Pass when the Law or Judgement?

       

Those are Pertinent Questions and Here are the Pertinent Answers. How can a Vigilante feel No Remorse, Regret or Guilt Killing a Criminal when They Absolutely would if say They hit and Killed a Pedestrian while Driving? While Serial Killers are People Incapable of Learning to Love Vigilantes are People who ARE Capable of Learning to Hate. A Vigilante can Learn to Hate at Levels that so called Regular People couldn’t even begin to fucking Fathom. A Vigilante can Lear to Hate to the Point where They can Kill what They Hate, and if You Hate something that fucking much You Don’t feel Remorse, Regret or Guilt. And a Lack of Remorse, Regret, or Guilt is EXACTLY what enables BOTH a Serial Killer AND a Vigilante to Kill with a Conscious.

        

As Far as People or Society is concerned (and even Law Enforcement) Serial Killers are Demonized because They Kill the Innocent indiscriminately while Vigilantes are Exhausted because They Kill with a Nobel Purpose. Everyone knows Our Legal and Prison Systems are fucked beyond belief, and there’s an Overwhelming amount of Horrible shit in the Daily News that it makes People Clinically Depressed. So It’s reassuring to People that there ARE some of Us willing to do the Dirty Work of Cleaning Up After the Failures of an Unjust Legal System. And Let’s Face it People are Vengeful Creatures and Thus They Love Revenge which is Embodied by/in Vigilantes.

Thanks for Reading,

 By Les Sober

Virginia’s Most Notorious Urban Legend: The Bunnyman

The Following Newspaper Article was Published in The Washington Post on October 22, 1970.

MAN IN BUNNY SUIT SOUGHT IN FAIRFAX

“Fairfax County Police said yesterday they are looking for a Man who likes to wear a “White Bunny Rabbit Costume” and Throws Hatchets through Car Windows. Honest.

Air Force Academy Cadet Robert Bennett told the Police shortly after Midnight last Sunday He and His Fiancée were sitting in a Car in the 5400 block of Guinea Road when a Man “Dressed in a white suit with long Bunny Ears” ran from the nearby bushes and shouted: “You’re on Private Property and I have Your Tag Number.”

The “Rabbit” threw a Wooden-Handled Hatchet through the right front car window, the first-year Cadet told the Police. As soon as he threw the Hatchet, the “Rabbit” skipped off into the Night, Police said. Bennett and His Fiancee were not injured.

Police say they have the Hatchet, but no other clues in the case. They say Bennett was visiting an Uncle, who lives across the street from the spot where the car was Parked. The Cadet was in the area to attend last weekend’s Air Force-Navy Football Game.”

       

The Bunnyman is MOST often seen in Secluded Locations in Fairfax County Virginia though He has been Spotted Through Out the Entire State of Virginia. It is Believed The BUnnyman’s Primary Territory is the Area surrounding the Bridge (Known as The Bunnyman Bridge) along the W&OD Railroad Tracks. Some Say in the 1800’s 2 Mental Patients Escaped from a Near By Mental Asylum. One Patient was found a few Days Later Hanging from a Tree, the Other Patient was NEVER seen Again. Was this the Origin of the Legendary Bunnyman and if so What accounts for the Modern Day sightings in the 1970’s and 1980’s? Is it a Copy Cat or Possibly the Cursed Spirit of Bunnyman doomed to Roam the Earth wreaking Havoc on Virginia for all Eternity?! No One knows and probably NEVER will.

       

Reports of the Infamous Bunnyman first began in the 1970’s where Usually a Person in a White Bunny Costume carrying an Hatchet/Ax Scarring or Threatening Children or in some Cases Vandalizing Property.

By the 1980’s though the Bunnyman had Evolved into an Evil Entity Hell Bent on Murder who according to Most had committed SEVERAL BRUTALLY GRUESOME MURDERS Already. In one Story Bunnyman Allegedly Butchered His Entire Family before Fleeing into the Deepest, Darkest Parts of the Surrounding Forrest.

       

Brian A. Conly a Historian-Archivist working at the Fairfax County Library wrote a Summery of University of Maryland Patricia Johnson’s Paper on the Folklore of The Bunnymansimply titled “The Bunnyman” were She had interviewed 33 Locals to get Their accounts of The Bunnyman Phenomenon. Cony’s Summation is as Follows:

  • . 14 Different Geographic Locations for Bunnyman Encounters (Mostly in Virginia) are Mentioned.
  • 18 Encounters Involve The Bunnyman Chasing or Frightening People, Usually Children, with a Hatchet or Ax.
  • 14 Encounters report an Attack on a Cars.
  • 9 Witnesses/Victims claim Bunyman Attacked a Couple in a Parked Car.
  • 5 Witnesses/Victim’s accuse The Bunnyman of Vandalism on Homes or Buildings.
  • Only 3 instances Mention Murder/Murders allegedly committed by The Bunnyman.

       

So is The Bunnyman just a Eccentric Prankster? Is The Bunnyman just an ongoing Virginian Hoax? Is the Bunnyman a Blood Thirsty Murderer? Is Bunnyman an Evil  Supernatural Spirit still Roaming around in Virginia? Could Bunnyman possibly a yet Undiscovered Cryptid or could it be Bunnyman is just the Star of another Urban Legend We will mostly likely NEVER Know the Truth behind Virginia’s Illusive Bunnyman.

Thanks for Reading,

  By Les Sober

Homicidal History: The Louisiana Axeman

This is the ACTUAL LETTER from Serial Killer The Louisiana Axeman that was Published in Newspapers on March 13, 1919 with The Axeman’s Ultimatum for Murder. Enjoy.

The Axeman’s Letter:

Hell, March 13, 1919

Esteemed Mortal of New Orleans: The Axeman

They have never caught me and they never will. They have never seen me, for I am invisible, even as the ether that surrounds your earth. I am not a human being, but a spirit and a demon from the hottest hell. I am what you Orleanians and your foolish police call the Axeman.

When I see fit, I shall come and claim other victims. I alone know whom they shall be. I shall leave no clue except my bloody axe, besmeared with blood and brains of he whom I sent below to keep me company.

If you wish you may tell the police to be careful not to rile me. Of course, I am a reasonable spirit. I take no offense at the way they have conducted their investigations in the past. In fact, they have been so utterly stupid as to not only amuse me, but His Satanic majesty, Francis Josef, etc. But tell them too beware. Let them not try to discover what I am, for it were better that they were never born than to incur the wrath of the Axeman. I don’t think there is any need of such a warning, for I feel sure the police will always dodge me, as they have in the past. They are wise and know how to keep away from all harm.

       

Undoubtedly, you Orleanians think of me as a most horrible murderer, which I am, but I could be much worse if I wanted to. If I wished, I could pay a visit to your city every night. At will I could slay thousands of your best citizens (and the worst), for I am in close relationship with the Angel of Death.

Now, to be exact, at 12:15 (earthly time) on the next Tuesday night, I am going to passover New Orleans. In my infant mercy , I am going to make a little proposition to you people. Here it is:

I am very fond of jazz music, and I swear by all the devils in the other regions that every person shall be spared in whose home a jazz band is in full swing at the time I have just mentioned. If everyone has a jazz band going, well, then, so much the better for you people. 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.

Well, as I am cold and crave the warmth of my native Tartarus, and it is about time I leave your earthly home, I will cease my discourse. Hoping that thou wilt publish this, that it may go well with thee, I have been, am and will be the worst spirit that ever existed either in fact or realm of fancy.

–The Axeman

Thanks for Reading,

  Presented by Les Sober

The Insanity in Editing Revision #3

 Revision #3 for The Butchers of Backwater

The Butchers of Backwater:
“The Thrill to Kill to Spill Blood so Fresh, The Toll Your Soul shall PAY IN FLESH.” – Asher Leviticus 1803

The pungent odor of the smelling salts filled Joel’s nostrils as he snapped awake like he was hit by a lighting bolt. His vision was blurred and he strained his eyes to the point of pain, squinting to make out where he was. Joel’s head was pounding like there was a giant metronome banging away in his head. His eyes adjusted to the dim candle light of the chandelier and various candelabra’s which sent shadows dancing on the walls with wild abandon. The wall paper was so old it had become yellowed and as brittle as parchment. Large pictures of grim stoic figures which Joel assumed where family ancestors in dingy gaudy gold frames lined all four walls of the dinning room. Some of the people in the paintings looked somewhat deformed but Joel dismissed this as a characteristic of the stone faced portraits of the past where no one dared smile. The black and white old photographs had faded in various degrees from whitened smudged edges to almost fully faded and black in appearance. The subjects of photos as well as

the paintings wore emotionless poker faces.There were two medieval looking candelabras on the table placed at each end these in combination with the chandelier did little to combat the darkness which encapsulated the room.

Joel’s eyes came slowly into focus he could see he was in a rather large dinning room that was reminiscent of the kind one might find in an Old Southern farmhouse. Joel was restrained with thick chains that bound his feet together, and secured his arms to the arms to that of an old oak chair. The chains were coiled around Joel’s torso like a metallic python as well. Joel was positioned at one end of the table opposite the designated head. He strained against the chains to no avail as it became a reality that he wasn’t going anywhere, and was being held as some sort of hostage. There was a full place setting in front of Joel consisting of a antique china plate that was chipped around its perimeter. There were three forks, two spoons and a knife laid out as well that were very old and genuine silver. The cutlery showed it age. Oxidation over years had left its trade mark patina giving the utensils a tarnished appearance. Joel became a deep commanding voice with a distinct drawl coming from behind him.

“Ah, I see our company has risen from his prolonged slumber. I was beginning to fear that you might never be returning to this world of the living, but look at you now. A true testament to a man’s will and his perseverance over that which is problematic.”

Joel was still struggling with all his might to come fully back to his senses. Questions swarmed Joel’s battered brain like enraged Hornets adding to his continued confusion. Where the hell am I? Who’s house is this?” “How’d I even get here”,but most of all at this particular

moment the primary question was “Who is this man and why did he restrain me with an excessive amount of chains?”

“Mr. Joel Fletcher you have a definite look of confusion as to where you are and to that which is going on.”said the voice with a slight tone of mockery.

Joel then heard the distinct sound of a centuries old wooden floor sighing with long groans. The foot steps were coming closer and closer from behind Joel. Joel tried to hide his increasing anxiety and fought to keep his voice from wavering.

“Who are you? What in the name of christ is going on here? What do you want?” Joel said as his speech increased its rate of speed. Damn it Joel thought to himself I can’t show weakness, I must remain calm and as focused as possible considering the current circumstances.

“Questions abound don’t they Mr. Fletcher? You shall have all the answers you desire shortly I assure you.” The voice said from directly behind Joel so close that Joel could smell the stink of cigarette smoke.

Suddenly a very tall and lean elderly man strode out from behind Joel’s seat and quickly crossed the vast dining room in only a couple of strides stopping at the head of the table. The old man was dressed in a crisp brilliantly white suit complete with a bolo tie. For a split second Joel wondered if he had fallen victim to the demented relatives of Colonel Sanders from the KFC advertisements of his youth. The old man had a full beard that was as white as his suit and long shoulder length hair that for some reason was as black as the bottom of an abyss. The old man pulled his chair out and took a seat. He slowly lowered his long and thin body into a chair.

The old man crossed his legs and rested his arms on the table at either side of a second place setting. The old man reached into his suit jacket and removed a cigarette case. He opened the case, removed a cigarette and tapped it lightly and deliberately on the exterior of the case. The old man took a few minutes, which seemed like an eternity to Joel, to locate his Zippo lighter which had the Leviticus family crest on it . The old man lit his cigarette taking in the first couple of drags with gusto before exhaling. A cloud of lingering smoke hovered around his head like a demonic mist.

Once Joel’s eyes met the gentlemen stranger the man began speaking. “You must pardon our lack of light for dining. You see with my condition, I’m an albino you see, I’m afraid my disadvantaged eyes are rather sensitive to light, thusly we forgo the harsh light of electricity in favor of the softer less offensive light of candles.”said the Gentlemen as he puffed away on his cigarette like it was going out of style.

“We? We who? I only see you and me sitting here.” Joel asked nervously, his voice now quivering uncontrollably.

“Well then, as you are my honored guest allow me to explain. My family name is Leviticus and we have kept our bloodline pure for centuries even before my family made their way to America. My family was of great wealth and status until the civil war tore us asunder. War is hell Mr. Joel. War is hell indeed.” said Mr. Leviticus in a slow and steady tone before a brief pause. “After the war my family was banished into the backwaters of the Mississippi were they eked out a meager living hunting Alligators and selling their skins. Then came the unfortunate great depression and the rural people of this land left this place to find greener pastures in bigger towns and even the cities. My family being tougher than the gator skins they sold decided to stay put for we would not lose the rest of our family to the industrial world beyond the boarders of the bayou.” Mr. Leviticus said with pride as he stared off into oblivion.

“Now alas, my brother and I are all that remains of the once great Leviticus Family lineage.” continued Mr. Leviticus who at this point seemed to be talking to himself as he didn’t acknowledge Joel’s presence as he spoke.

“Due to the family tradition of keeping the family bloodline clean and pure, there have been some issues of health with the later generations such as the deformity of both body and mind. My brother being the last offspring born into this family suffers egregiously from these afflictions you see Mr. Fletcher.”

Just then the massive silhouette of a man filled the immense doorway behind the seated Mr. Leviticus.

“Ah Yes dinner is served I do hope you enjoy pork Mr. Fletcher” declared Mr. Leviticus with great pleasure.

“Where is my brother?” Joel asked anxiously as he suddenly remembered they had been traveling together. They were documenting the impact the oil spill had wreaked upon the Gulf of Mexico and those whose livelihood as fishermen had been destroyed.

“You see Mr. Joel when my brother and I happened upon you as well as your aforementioned brother. You were both being beaten mercilessly by a group of roving bikers outside a rather unattractive bar in Bella, the text town over from ours. I phoned the police at

which point the bikers fled. My brother and I collected y’all, brought you to our family home, mended your wounds and have been caring for y’all ever since.” answered Mr. Leviticus promptly.

Before Joel could get the next question out of his mouth the monstrous silhouette standing in the doorway made its way into the room carrying two dinner plates, one in each hand. The mountain of a man was covered in a thick layer of sweat and he had gnarled twisted up limbs like that of an ancient live oak. He stooped and placed a plate in front of Mr. Leviticus delicately. The grotesque giant was wearing grimy dirt encrusted over alls without a shirt. As Mr. Leviticus’s younger brother made his way over to Joel was the floor boards strained to support the weight of his extremely large frame. Long greasy unkept hair obscured the titan’s face. This was accentuated by the fact that Mr. Leviticus’s brother tended to walk with his head lowered as if in mourning. The large man made his way over to Joel where he unceremoniously dropped a plate on the table. The plate crashed down upon the table with a loud clatter which caused some of the meat juice to splatter.

“Eli!” yelled Mr. Leviticus outraged, “You know quite well this table is a family heirloom and must be treated with the respect it deserves. Must you be such an uncouth savage brother? Your just lucky that what you lack in mind you make up for in body. Now leave us and don’t let playing with your food to even enter your minuscule mind.”

Eli who had frozen into a statue at the mention of his name cocked his head sideways with his back to his brother, Mr. Leviticus, as if he was struggling to control his own outrage. His gargantuan muscles tightening at every word that came out of his irritated brother’s mouth. It seemed that Mr. Leviticus’s brother was physically affected by his the harsh reprimanding. When Mr. Leviticus was done chastising his younger brother Eli promptly bent down and wiped the meat juice off the table with one of his hotdog sized fingers. He then hastily exited the dining room utilizing the door behind Joel. Joel’s nostrils were overcome by the smell of rotting flesh that wafted off Eli as he lumbered past on his way out of the room.

“Please excuse my brother’s lack of manners. He is not as civilized as your aforementioned brother. His appearance is quite off-putting especially upon the in initial meeting.” said Mr. Leviticus apologetically before continuing “Dig in Mr. Fletcher you need to regain your strength.”

Joel was starving. He tore in to his meal. His body craved the sustenance. He and Mr. Leviticus ate in silence. Joel couldn’t help but notice the pork chops were fresh and succulent unlike any he had eaten before. The meat was so tender it melted in Joel’s mouth coating his tongue with the fantastic taste of the meat. The smell of the meat was intoxicating just on its own.

“Pardon me Mr. Leviticus but this pork is delicious. I hope you have treated my brother, Zander, as kindly and also treated him to a wonderful meal like this.” Joel said honestly.

“Don’t worry Mr. Fletcher Zander is here in spirit and on the plate I assure you.” Mr. Leviticus said matter of factly with a slight sneer.

“What the hell are you talking about? What are you saying?” Joel asked in full blown panic his heart pounding as if it was attempting hammer its way through Joel’s ribcage.

“You see Mr. Fletcher when times are tough and food is scarce my family’s motto is “If there is no meat there is always man” and this motto has gotten us through many a lean time in our history. We are you see cannibals of conviction and convenance . My family acquired this trait after my ancestor Barnabas Leviticus spent some time in the Fiji Islands back in 1839.”announced Mr. Leviticus as he leisurely chewed his meal with an air of great satisfaction.

“You have to understand that a key piece of Fijian history revolves around cannibalism as my illustrious great granddaddy four times over found out first hand himself.” Continued Mr. Leviticus with admiration. “The indigenous tribes that inhabited the Fiji Islands back then had adopted cannibalism from their long voyage at sea with the lack of adequate nutritious food. This forced the sailors to consume the flesh of the dead for survivals sake. After the land the indigenous tribes cannibalism became a normal part of their diet as more people arrived the competition for natural resources, property and most of all women. Also warring tribes devoured their slain enemies not just for food, but in celebration of their mighty victory.” Mr. Leviticus took a long sip from his mason jar that most likely contained Moonshine.

A growing grin of sadistic delight let Joel know that Mr. Leviticus was enjoying the torment which he was subjecting Joel to. Joel tried with all his might to process the horror of what he had just been told.

“Barnabas was the great explorer of our family. In the Fiji islands he met and befriended Udre. Udre was the chief of one of the more predominate tribes. Barnabas and Udre spent many years together and their bond only strengthened over time as the two became like brothers more than friends.” said Mr. Leviticus triumphantly again taking a long sip from his mason jar of Moonshine before continuing his terrible tale.

“Now the most prevalent part of this story is chief Udre udre, according to the 2003 Guiness World Record, held the title of “most prolific cannibal” having eaten between 872 to 900 people. So as you may of surmised Barnabas learned an extensive about of knowledge on the subject and culture of cannibalism before returning home many year later.”

“Thats fucking insane, your insane!” screamed Joel at the top of his lungs, “This is bullshit!! Your a liar! Your fucking lying you sick son of a bitch!” Joel struggled relentlessly with the chains that confined him to the chair trying desperately to free himself.

“Do not act so surprised Mr. Fletcher as this is not the first time you have heard of cannibalism I’m certain of that,” said Mr. Leviticus in a mocking tone. “Eli can you summon Mr. Zander to the table please I would appreciate it so.” Mr. Leviticus said in a booming voice that dominated the room.

Joel was terrified, completely confused and disoriented. His pulse was racing like that of a jack rabbit on meth. Sweat was rolling down his face like a midsummer rain shower. His eyes frantically searched the room finding nothing to hope for. Joel was trapped alone with two cannibal brothers one of which claimed they killed and cooked his broth er. There was also the mentally crippling thought that he may have indeed dined upon his brothers flesh. This drove Joel to the point of lunacy.

The slow solid steps echoed down the hallway as Eli returned to the dinning room. Joel’s racing mind was flooding his head with horrible scenarios of torture and death. Joel was so wrought with panic it seemed that he could actually feel his hair growing. Finally Eli’s imposing body once again filled the doorway behind Joel his shadow loomed over Joel like a storm cloud waiting out the calm. Eli crept up behind Joel stopping directly behind him. As Eli lurked behind him Joel could hear his labored breath. It sounded steady and deep and ended more or less in an exacerbated sigh coming from directly above his head, but Joel was too terrified to even entertain the idea of looking up into the face of the monstrosity standing over him. Joel felt Eli’s rancid breathe ruffling the hair on the top of his head each time Eli exhaled.

“Where is my brother you demented, backwoods, inbred, hillbilly, son of a bitch? Where is ZANDER?” demanded Joel in frustrated anger struggling so hard that the chains with which he was bound rattled like wind chimes in a hurricane.

“Eli if you’d be so kind” said Mr. Leviticus in a monotone voice indicating his boredom with the matter.

Without warning the immense arm swung around in front of Joel and slammed something on the table before drawing itself back to its owner standing behind him. It happened so fast that Joel was initially too startled to comprehend what was happening. He sat transfixed by fear like a deer in the headlights of an eighteen wheeler barreling down upon it. Then Joel saw what Eli had deposited upon the table in front of him, his brothers Zander’s bloody severed head. Zander’s eyes were fully open, and his face was twisted in sheer agony as if he had seen the angel of death himself before dying.

“JESUS CHRIST! ZANDER!” exclaimed Joel in a fevered pitch as he gazed upon his brothers decapitated head. The shock paralyzed his body and mind.

“Collect yourself Mr. Fletcher your bordering on hysterical,” commanded Mr. Leviticus who was now scowling in absolute disgust and bitter distain.

“Eli, Eli come collect what remains of Mr. Fletcher’s brother and take it back to the processing building quick as can be,” said Mr. Leviticus waving his hand royally back and forth through the thick smokey air as he spoke.

“I think its imperative that you understand. The Leviticus family uses every viable part of the carcass, the last of your brother Zander’s remains will be processed into head cheese,” Mr. Leviticus said sounding more like a man rather than the monster he was.

“Don’t worry Mr. Fletcher you aren’t long for this world thus grievance over eating your brother will be short I assure you.”said Mr. Leviticus leering as he bent forward running his tongue over his yellow nicotine stained teeth.

“You see Mr. Fletcher whats on tomorrow night’s dinner menu is you, but until then would you care for some dessert? No? shame Eli makes a splendid cherries jubilee.”