I admit I killed them. I shot them all with Jack Barnett's gun, and the bodies are all buried in the woods behind my house. It isn't my fault, though. It was the gun.

I don't even like guns. I had never even fired a gun before I found Barnett's gun in that antique store. I went in there looking for rare coins, but something drew me to the display case where Barnett's possessions were on display. The vest he was wearing the day he was finally caught by the Kansas City sheriff, an old pair of his boots, and this gun in its holster. I left the store with every last one of his items. That gun is cursed and it took over my mind. I shot the first one that night. I know that only way to stop this is to take my own life so the gun can't use me to kill another innocent person. Please destroy it so it can't take possession of anyone else.

Sincerely
Allen Peterson


Allen Peterson's son David sat at his kitchen table trying to make sense of his father's suicide note. "I can't believe my father would kill anyone," he told the detectives. "He was a good, kind man who never hurt anyone. And that crazy story about the gun making him do it. He had to have been mentally ill. Please get that gun out of this house. I never want to see it again."

"We'll have to take the gun for evidence," the detective said. "If we do find any bodies, we need to make sure they were shot with that gun. If he was mentally ill, it's possible that he didn't kill anyone."

David held on to that thought after the police left, but someshow he knew the bodies would be there. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but he had seen a frightening change in his father after he brought that gun home.

David went to the basement where his father had kept the rest of Barnett's items. He couldn't stand the thought of that stuff in his house one more day, so he decided to pack it up and take it back to the store where his father bought it. He found a cardboard box and threw the vest and boots inside, and then picked up the holster. He ran his fingers over the worn leather and decided he would not take it back to the store after all. Laughing a horrible laugh, he realized that his father had been wrong about one thing. Jack Barnett's gun was just an ordinary gun, but it was the holster that was cursed.

Later that afternoon, David Peterson bought a gun.


Arakun
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