August 6, 1987
My dear Will,
I know it has been some time since your passing. Just past
two years. I often stare at the night sky wondering if one of those glimmering
stars is you staring back. Have I not seen the change of the moon more than
twenty four times? I often think of you while staring at it. Some nights the
white of the moon is the same as that in your eyes. Others it resembles the tan
of your skin. Oh how I miss our talks. The way you would go on about the most
pointless of things; yet I still listened.
I no longer listen to music for it is not the same as your
singing. I miss you dearly. May my heart find comfort I knowing we will be
together soon?
August 10, 1987
Dear William,
I know not why I feel your presence around me like my very
shadow following me. I visited the place
of our first encounter today. The tear trickling down my cheek dried off
quickly in the warm summer’s heat. I wish I could write more, but I must stop
in fear of crying myself into an eternal slumber.
August 11, 1987
Dear Will,
I would assume you think it silly that I write to you though
you are no longer living. But I feel that someday we will be together out in
the stars somewhere that we know not of yet; at least in the living world. And
maybe if you are not watching me, then at least you may get my letters I wrote
for you. I just want you to know that I am alright and that you are still a
part of my life. I hope wherever you are, that you are safe my dear Will.
August 12, 1987
Dear Will,
Today marks four years since we first met; that day I
instantly knew I was in love. I saw a happy couple today they reminded me of
us, at least until your passing. But seeing them happy saddened me with
jealousy. Is that wrong of me to do? I just wish that was us, I wish they were
the ones who had to suffer from loss. I guess that is wrong of me to do. But I
suppose we all have done something like that in our lives haven’t we?
August 13, 1987
Dear Will,
I don’t think I can take it anymore. I wish there was a way
I could see you again. I’m afraid of dying but I want to be with you so bad,
wrapped in your arms again. It angers me that I can’t be with you. It angers me
that others don’t have to feel our tragedy. Take care Will I hope wherever you
are that you find happiness without me.
August, 16 1987
Dear Will,
I’m sorry for taking so long to write this letter, but I had
to take care of some stuff. I know you’ll forgive me. I’m crying as I write
this though. I got so angry that I, I, killed someone. I did it for you Will!
For us! I had to. I couldn’t bear letting them have what we don’t – life. I
needed to do this Will. You’ll forgive me though, won’t you?
August 17, 1987
Dear Will,
I thank you for forgiving me. While I was waiting for your
reply I went out of the house to the town. No one even knows the couple I
killed is missing. And thank you for visiting me last night. I know it was just
a dream but I know it was you trying to speak to me… and the love we made was
just like it was when you were alive. But anyways that’s beside the point. I
found who I will kill next. Their happiness is an issue for us.
August 18, 1987
Dear Will,
Tonight I will redeem our life, at least in the short term.
I know you will enjoy it. It gives you a thrill when I take a life doesn’t it?
Otherwise you wouldn’t reward me with such passionate love after I do it. That
is the reward I seek after each kill; your love and your bodily presence.
August 19, 1987
Dear Will,
I’m so sorry. I can’t handle the guilt of taking a life even
if the reward is you. I will take my life tonight so you can’t make me kill
anymore. I just need you to know I’m sorry.
August 20, 1987
Dear Will,
I’m sorry I tried to take my life; I didn’t know what I was
doing. I’m nearly drowning in my tears Will! I’m sorry! I’ll kill for you
again. Just please don’t hurt me.
August 21, 1987
Dear Will,
I could not clean the evidence thoroughly. For there was
someone knocking on the door. I’m confident we will not be caught though. The
love you gave me last night was amazing. I’ll kill again for you tomorrow
morning
August 22, 1987
Dear Will,
Please visit me again. I killed for you again. Please give
me the love I require to be happy. I’ll continue writing this after I see who
is knocking on the door.
*The previous letters were found at Mariam Brennans’ house
on August 22, the following is a police report describing what happened.*
On August 22 the police were questioning everyone who came
into contact with the victims preceding their death. After a collection of data
and stories we went to visit Mariam Brennan’s house to ask her about the people
she might have seen with both victims. One of the officers knocked on the door
and she opened up revealing a ghastly pale face. She ran back inside grabbing a
kitchen knife and swinging it furiously. We went in and carefully detained her,
and called for backup. She was detained as one of the officers opened a door
revealing a room with the preserved dead body of a William Thatcher who was
reported missing two years ago. The letters in the evidence file depict what
appears to be an imaginary life she had with the body. After an extensive background
check we learn Mariam had been institutionalized as a teenager for necrophilia
and strange delusions which she was supposedly cured of. In the drawers we find
the preserved and stuffed genitalia of multiple missing men over the past few
years.
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