I on BEHALF of the "Magnolia Killer", as you have so deigned to name HIM, have sent you this letter to advise you to please
There is more to this than you could EVER KNOW. You cannot expect anyone to be safe inside of their houses, HE WILL COME and he will TAKE them. When you return home from the station tonight, you will find that your daughter's closet is full of MAGNOLIAS, BABY'S BREATH and CYCLAMEN. You have never been able to SAVE anybody who has received one of HIS flowers. You will try, you will try so hard, and you
Please do not dispose of this letter. You will NEED it.
YOU SHOULD PRAY THAT YOU WERE THE FIRST ONE TO READ THIS."
The chief looked up from the letter, which appeared to be made out of cut-and-paste newspaper clippings like a cheesy old ransom note. He asked the officer that had handed him the open letter if this was some sort of sick joke, unwilling to believe a word on the page. The other man shook his head, his face an eerie colour of ivory in the dim fluorescent light of the station.
The chief looked back down to the letter, holding it up to the light. There were splatters of blood around the words that had been capitalized and the ones that had been struck out... then, accompanied by a strange noise between a choke and a sob, he realized that the 'clippings' were pressed flowers.