Stories and News No. 684
I am innocent.
I swear, I'm innocent, but I cannot prove it.
Yes, I know, everyone says so.
Even those who are caught in the bad act.
Like me.
With the smoking gun in my hand.
O with blood dripping from the blade of the knife I have.
I understand, the tests are all there.
Well documented.
Images and videos.
I am a constant everywhere, in every scene of the crime.
You don’t need DNA tests or anything else.
There is no need to disturb the scientific team.
The tests are all there, are overwhelming and each one of them leads to me.
I know it's absurd.
Me too could not believe me.
But this is the perfect crime.
Because if you look at the scene, live, in the exact second the victim is murdered, you cannot avoid to point the finger on the only culprit there.
Me.
That's why there is no lawyer in the world who would agree to take on my defense.
Because the jury has already decided.
The court has already issued the judgment.
And the monster is on the front page.
It’s always on the first one.
My name.
And my face.
I killed.
I have murdered without delay.
Without mercy, I have slaughtered.
And you know what is the greatest witness to nail me?
Myself.
No, do not take me as crazy.
I just need to talk honestly, on the contrary how I could ask you to listen to me at the same way?
It's the truth.
I killed.
I have killed mercilessly.
Without any delay, I exterminated.
Yet I am innocent.
That’s our paradox.
Read as well as the unsuspecting arms of aware criminals.
Because every time I killed, murdered and exterminated lives I deleted people that someone else had already destroyed.
Forgetting them, alone.
Neglecting them, reducing their value to zero.
Sacrificing them for personal advantage.
If you really want to end up these dead, get busy, investigate and eventually arrest and punish the real assassin.
A terrible daily serial killer.
Above all, try to figure out how he kills.
In order to predict where and who he will hit.
Otherwise, put the blame upon those who have no word to defend himself.
Fickle as wind and clouds.
Like me.
Signed,
The bad weather
Also on Stories and News:
I am innocent.I swear, I'm innocent, but I cannot prove it.
Yes, I know, everyone says so.
Even those who are caught in the bad act.
Like me.
With the smoking gun in my hand.
O with blood dripping from the blade of the knife I have.
I understand, the tests are all there.
Well documented.
Images and videos.
I am a constant everywhere, in every scene of the crime.
You don’t need DNA tests or anything else.
There is no need to disturb the scientific team.
The tests are all there, are overwhelming and each one of them leads to me.
I know it's absurd.
Me too could not believe me.
But this is the perfect crime.
Because if you look at the scene, live, in the exact second the victim is murdered, you cannot avoid to point the finger on the only culprit there.
Me.
That's why there is no lawyer in the world who would agree to take on my defense.
Because the jury has already decided.
The court has already issued the judgment.
And the monster is on the front page.
It’s always on the first one.
My name.
And my face.
I killed.
I have murdered without delay.
Without mercy, I have slaughtered.
And you know what is the greatest witness to nail me?
Myself.
No, do not take me as crazy.
I just need to talk honestly, on the contrary how I could ask you to listen to me at the same way?
It's the truth.
I killed.
I have killed mercilessly.
Without any delay, I exterminated.
Yet I am innocent.
That’s our paradox.
Read as well as the unsuspecting arms of aware criminals.
Because every time I killed, murdered and exterminated lives I deleted people that someone else had already destroyed.
Forgetting them, alone.
Neglecting them, reducing their value to zero.
Sacrificing them for personal advantage.
If you really want to end up these dead, get busy, investigate and eventually arrest and punish the real assassin.
A terrible daily serial killer.
Above all, try to figure out how he kills.
In order to predict where and who he will hit.
Otherwise, put the blame upon those who have no word to defend himself.
Fickle as wind and clouds.
Like me.
Signed,
The bad weather
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