For the past three months, David Washington, a twenty-eight-year-old Negro farmer has been dreaming about and spying on Jane Newsome, a fifteen-year-old white girl. Today will be the showdown.

David is hiding in some bushes at the edge of the road in a wooded area as Jane approaches alone on foot. As she passes, he runs out, grabs her in a bear hug and carries her into the woods to a waiting blanket.

He punches Jane in the solar plexus to disable her, then strips her, then himself. He has never had a boner like this, and really goes to town. He fucks, and fucks, and fucks. He has no idea how much time has passed, but suddenly realizes that the girl beneath him isn’t moving any longer.

He sits up and sees by Jane’s eyes that she’s dead. He gets off of her, dresses, folds up the blanket, then leaves quickly. He arrives home, makes dinner, eats, and retires early.

Within a few hours, animals devour Jane’s body leaving only bones, but her clothes are intact when the search party finds them two days later. Her parents and brother Martin identify the clothes, and Jane’s dental records bring the final confirmation.

There is no evidence to connect any human to Jane’s death. Maybe she stopped to rest in the nude just off the road and was surprised by a bear. Martin Newsome is twenty-two years old tall, thin. serious, well educated, and much too smart to believe anything like this. Bears avoid proximity to roads.

David is new to the area, and so has no local reputation, either good or bad. Jane, however, mentioned light-heartedly at the dinner table one night about a month ago,

“There’s this Negro man about thirty-five I keep seeing everywhere I go. I wonder if he’s stalking me.”

She said this sarcastically like she simply assumed that this kind of thing couldn’t happen here in God’s country. Martin asked her,

“Does he ever look at you or speak?”

“No, he never speaks, and is always looking at something else, like he doesn’t see me.”

Jane’s father Robert says,

“If he says anything, tell me right away”

Now, after Jane’s death. Robert Newsome recalls these words and contacts the sheriff. The sheriff questions David, who acts very nervous, but insists he never even heard of the girl until he saw about her on the evening news. The sheriff runs a background check on David and finds one acquittal on a charge of rape in Ohio three years ago. He tells Robert about this and David’s nervousness. Robert tells his son.

The next day, Martin goes to visit David, and, by the man’s eyes, is now one hundred percent certain that the Negro killed his sister. He does not indicate this, however, and thanks David for his rime.

October 3. 2014

It’s freezing cold today. Martin Newsome is finishing the last of the wheat harvesting with the families powerful new threshing machine.

Martin has enlisted three of his friends to abduct David Washington, and under threat of being shot, to set him running into the field just ahead of where Martin is harvesting.

The timing is perfect. David runs right in front of the machine waving his arms for Martin to stop. As the ice cold blades begin cut the Negro to hamburger, Martin looks back over his shoulder as if inspecting his work. Now he feigns surprise, and stops the machine. His friends have long since beat it out of the area.

Martin gets down, walks slowly back to the house with a deepening sense of inner peace, and calls the sheriff.

“Howdy Sheriff Potter, this is Martin Newsome. Some guy just ran in front of our thresher. I was looking back at the row and didn’t see him until it was too late. He got so chewed up I can’t even tell who it was.”

Upon investigation, he sheriff has certain ideas about this matter, but lets them rest. Within a few weeks Martin leaves for a new accounting job in Boston.

November 12, 2014 Boston

Martin has a small apartment just off Beacon Street, a short walk from the public gardens. His new job is going very well, and in spare time he has been gathering data on Negro men acquitted or paroled for raping or murdering white women.

Today he is meticulously customizing a large refrigerated briefcase to accommodate two huge French chef knives that he bought in the housewares department at Jordan Marsh. He also procured a pair of pliant rubber gloves to protect his hands from frostbite.

November 17, 2014. 8:06 P.M.

With his briefcase, Martin emerges into the chilly street wearing a black suit and coat with matching black brimmed hat. He looks very grim and austere, like a long-ago undertaker.

Stearforth Coops is a now thirty-two-year-old Negro man recently paroled from MCI Walpole for raping two white girls in Auburndale when he was twenty-four. He’s a good looking, glib talker, and psychologically seduced the Negro woman head of the parole board. Martin’s observations have shown that Coops goes for a short evening constitutional every night before retiring.

Martin walks close behind the Negro, and as they approach a dark shadowy portion of the street, removes the two freezing knives from the briefcase, which now dangles behind him on a short wallet chain attached to his coat.

“You there, Coops” he intones.

The Negro turns fully around and is about to speak, when Martin strides briskly forward, raises the first huge knife high over his head and stabs the Negro’s face, then with the second alternately, again and again and again, like the ice cold blades of a threshing machine. The rapist’s face now resembles Steak Tartar as he falls and dies alone on the sidewalk.

Somehow Martin has avoided being splattered by blood, and nobody saw anything. The grim young man crosses the street at the next intersection and heads home. He enjoys a nice bowl of chocolate pudding with almonds, watches a movie, and retires.

November 28, 2014

Martin has been practicing in the mirror with his knives to perfect sideways stabs he can use at close quarters.

12:16 P.M. Today’s target, the leather jacketed Perry Bladford, is coming out of an office building toilet stall when Martin, knives already in hand, exits the adjacent stall, and slices the man’s face to ribbons, finishing with a quick deep plunge to the heart. Martin’s readings have warned him that this takes considerable force, because people are very sinewy and not easily pierced, as in television dramas.

October 16, 2015

Warren has killed a total of nine savage African rapists to date. His activities have drawn the attention of certain Libertarian Nationalists who have found out who Martin is. Garrett Valdison, because of his growing reputation as a writer, is notified anonymously about this.

Garrett calls Marin at his home. Caution prompts him to withhold his name for now,

“Hello Mr. Newsome. I’m a Libertarian Nationalist writer who has just been informed about your involvement in the ongoing war against sub-humanity. The informants are good Americans and will not betray your secret to the enemy. I’m hoping to do an anonymous interview with you to inspire others by your sterling example.”

Martin, shaken at first, now chuckles,

“Thank you, Mr. Valdison. I have the newest Caller I.D., and know your work. If I were to do an interview, it would be with you, but for now, the matter is too painful to discuss. Proceeding as though you have not contacted me will prevent pressure being put on you, and then possibly on me.  I suggest you simply mention my activity in the abstract, as a good example of proactive involvement in the fight to reinstitute the death penalty for rape, human trafficking, snuff porn, and similar crimes. I would look forward to reading your words.”

“Okay, but if you ever change your mind, please specify me at Sentinels of Winter on Gab.”

Garrett is disappointed, but is pleased at having had his first true journalistic impulse, and finds the interest is growing. Up to now he has been putting his Libertarian Nationalism into general texts and novels. He knows also that many who ignore topical books, will read detailed expanded coverage of current events, especially bizarre stories in the highly-relevant category.

October 18, 2015

After sleeping on the change in his anonymity for two nights, Martin Newsome is also reconsidering his own future, and decides to retire from the threshing industry. There is a very nice young woman at work who has begun to show interest in him. He knows in his heart that Jane would be happier for him in this. The world is changing very fast. The Africans will all be back home soon, more at peace, and will begin to prosper in their own good time.