A Facebook page appearing to belong to T.J. Lane, the suspected shooter at Chardon High School in Ohio, includes an essay describing a fantasy massacre that ends with the chilling words, “Die, all of you.”
Lane, suspected of shooting classmates at his school Monday morning, appears to have taken to his Facebook page on Dec. 30 to post a rant about a “mistreated” man who takes revenge on the “selfish and conceited.”
“He longed for only one thing, the world to bow at his feet,” the posting reads. “They too should feel his secret fear. The dismal drear.”
On Jan. 20, the Facebook user — with the name “Tj Lane” — claimed he wrote the post while at school, commenting underneath the post, “much obliged to all who ‘liked’ this. Wrote it myself in class one day.”
Although this particular “Tj Lane” doesn’t say on his Facebook profile where he is from, at least 38 of his Facebook friends self-identify as being from Chardon, Ohio — including at least six who attend Chardon High School.
The photos posted on the Facebook account resemble a yearbook photo of Lane published online Monday by the Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Describing a fantasy rampage, the Facebook user wrote, “So, to the castle he proceeds, like an ominous breeze through the trees. ‘Stay back!’ The Guards screamed as they were thrown to their knees. ‘Oh God, have mercy, please!’”
It then ends, “Die, all of you.”
Read the full Facebook post:
In a time long since, a time of repent, The Renaissance. In a quaint lonely town, sits a man with a frown. No job. No family. No crown. His luck had run out. Lost and alone. The streets were his home. His thoughts would solely consist of “why do we exist?” His only company to confide in was the vermin in the street. He longed for only one thing, the world to bow at his feet. They too should feel his secret fear. The dismal drear. His pain had made him sincere. He was better than the rest, all those ones he detests, within their castles, so vain. Selfish and conceited. They couldn’t care less about the peasents they mistreated. They were in their own world, it was a joyous one too. That castle, she stood just to do all she could to keep the peasents at bay, not the enemy away. They had no enemies in their filthy orgy. And in her, the castles every story, was just another chamber of Lucifer’s Laboratory. The world is a sandbox for all the wretched sinners. They simply create what they want and make themselves the winners. But the true winner, he has nothing at all. Enduring the pain of waiting for that castle to fall. Through his good deeds, the rats and the fleas. He will have for what he pleads, through the eradication of disease. So, to the castle he proceeds, like an ominous breeze through the trees. “Stay back!” The Guards screamed as they were thrown to their knees. “Oh God, have mercy, please!” The castle, she gasped and then so imprisoned her breath, to the shallow confines of her fragile chest. I’m on the lamb but I ain’t no sheep. I am Death. And you have always been the sod. So repulsive and so odd. You never even deserved the presence of God, and yet, I am here. Around your cradle I plod. Came on foot, without shod. How improper, how rude. However, they shall not mind the mud on my feet if there is blood on your sheet. Now! Feel death, not just mocking you. Not just stalking you but inside of you. Wriggle and writhe. Feel smaller beneath my might. Seizure in the Pestilence that is my scythe. Die, all of you.
David Martokso contributed to this report
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NOTE: After publication, the Facebook account described in this story was deleted or made inaccessible. Below are two screen-captures from the account before it disappeared. Click to enlarge.
