
QuoteSubject: Don't forget to pay the tax within 2 days!
Body: Hi. How are you?
I know, it's unpleasant to start the conversation with bad news, but I have no choice.
Few months ago, I have gained access to your devices that used by you for internet browsing.
Afterwards, I could track down all your internet activities.
Here is the history of how it could become possible:
At first, I purchased from hackers the access to multiple email accounts (nowadays, it is a really simple thing to do online).
As result, I could easily log in to your email account ([scraped email]).
One week later, I installed Trojan virus in Operating Systems of all devices of yours, which you use to open email.
Frankly speaking, it was rather straightforward (since you were opening the links from your inbox emails).
Everything ingenious is quite simple. (o_0)!
My software enables me with access to all controllers inside devices of yours, like microphone, keyboard and video camera.
I could easily download to my servers all your private info, including the history of web browsing and photos.
I can effortlessly gain access to all your messengers, social networks accounts, emails, contact list as well as chat history.
Virus of mine constantly keeps refreshing its signatures (because it is driver-based), and as result remains unnoticed by your antivirus.
Hence, you can already guess why I stayed undetected all this while.
As I was gathering information about you, I couldn't help but notice that you are also a true fan of adult-content websites.
You actually love visiting **** sites and browsing through **** videos, while ****.
I could make a few dirty records with you in the main focus and montaged several videos showing the way you reach **** while **** with joy.
If you are still uncertain regarding the seriousness of my intentions, it only requires several mouse clicks for me to forward your videos to all your relatives, as well as friends and colleagues.
I can also make those vids become accessible by public.
I honestly think that you do not really want that to happen, considering the peculiarity of videos you like to watch, (you obviously know what I mean) all that **** content can become a reason of serious troubles for you.
However, we can still resolve this situation in the following manner:
Everything you are required to do is a single transfer of $1370 USD to my account (or amount equivalent to bitcoin depending on exchange rate at the moment of transfer), and once the transaction is complete, I will straight away remove all the dirty content exposing you.
After that, you can even forget that you have come across me. Moreover, I swear that all the harmful software will be removed from all devices of yours as well.
Make no doubt that I will fulfill my part.
This is really a great deal that comes at a reasonable price, given that I have used quite a lot of energy to check your profile as well as traffic over an extended period of time.
If you have no idea about bitcoin purchase process - it can be straightforwardly done by getting all the necessary information online.
Here is my bitcoin wallet provided below: [bitcoin address]
You should complete the abovementioned transfer within 48 hours (2 days) after opening this email.
The following list contains actions you should avoid attempting:
#Do not try replying my email (email in your inbox was generated by me alongside with return email address).
#Do not try calling police as well as other security forces. In addition, abstain from sharing this story with your friends.
After I find out (be sure, I can easily do that, given that I keep complete control of all your devices) - your **** video will end up being available to public right away.
#Do not try searching for me - there is absolutely no reason to do that. Moreover, all transactions in cryptocurrency are always anonymous.
#Do not try reinstalling the OS on your devices or throwing them away. It is pointless as well, since all your videos have already been uploaded to remote servers.
The following list contains things you should not be worried about:
#That your money won't reach my account.
- Rest assured, the transactions can be tracked, hence once the transaction is complete, I will know about it, because I continuously observe all your activities (my trojan virus allows me to control remotely your devices, same as TeamViewer).
#That I still will share your **** videos to public after you complete money transfer.
- Trust me, it's pointless for me to continue troubling your life. If I really wanted, I would make it happen already!
Let's make this deal in a fair manner!
Owh, one more thing...in future it is best that you don't involve yourself in similar situations any longer!
One last advice from me - recurrently change all your passwords from all accounts.

QuoteThe Pumpkin's Warning
---------------
In the quiet town of Hollowmere, where the streets curled like sleepy cats and the fog rolled in thick as wool on All Hallows Eve, there was one rule everyone knew: never whistle past the old graveyard after dark, especially not with a lit jack-o'-lantern in your hands.
Young Tom Fletcher had heard the rule, of course. But Tom was twelve, bold as brass, and convinced the stories were just that, stories. His carved pumpkin, with its jagged grin and candle-glow eyes, bobbed proudly at his side as he took the shortcut home past the iron gates of St. Mary's Cemetery.
The night was dark, the fog so dense he could barely see his own boots. The pumpkin's light cut a small orange circle in the mist, and Tom, feeling brave, began to whistle a jaunty tune.Tweet-tweet-tweeeet.
The sound floated out, cheerful and sharp.
Then it came back, tweet-tweet-tweeeet, but slower, deeper, like someone mocking him from the shadows.
Tom stopped. The fog swallowed the echo. He clutched the pumpkin tighter. "Just the wind," he muttered.
He started walking again. And whistling.
Tweet-tweet-tweeeet.
Again, the reply, closer now. And this time, it wasn't alone.
From atop the cemetery wall sat a calico cat, eyes like twin moons, watching. Waiting. Its tail flicked once, twice. It didn't blink.
High in the gnarled yew tree, a real owl perched, feathers puffed in disapproval. Tut-tut-tut, it clucked, as if to say, Foolish boy. Every year the same nonsense.
A pigeon, wide awake and utterly confused, waddled along the path ahead. It cooed, then tried again, louder: HOO-HOO. It paused, tilted its head, and tried once more: HOO. Satisfied, it strutted on, convinced it was an owl.
Tom laughed nervously. "Silly bird."
But then, from the mist behind him, came the frantic patter of paws. A Jack Russell terrier burst through the fog, tongue lolling, eyes wild. It skidded to a stop, looked at Tom, looked at the pumpkin, and barked once, sharp and urgent.
"I know the way home!" the dog seemed to say. "Follow me, you daft lad!"
Tom hesitated. The whistling echo had stopped. The cat still stared. The owl tutted louder.
He took one step forward, and the pumpkin's candle flickered. The carved face seemed to frown.
Tom swallowed. "Maybe... maybe no more whistling."
He lowered the pumpkin, cupping the flame. The dog yipped approvingly and trotted ahead. The pigeon flapped up to a gravestone, still hooting. The cat leaped down and vanished into the fog.
Tom followed the terrier, silent now, heart thumping.
They reached the edge of the cemetery. The fog thinned. Streetlights glowed ahead, warm and safe.
Tom looked back once. The calico cat sat on the wall again, tail curled neatly around its paws. The owl blinked slowly. The pigeon gave one last proud HOO before settling down to sleep.
And from deep within the graveyard, just once, came the faintest whistle, tweet-tweet-tweeeet, soft as a sigh.
Tom never whistled past a graveyard again. Especially not with a lit pumpkin.
Some sounds, on All Hallows Eve, are invitations.
And some doors, once opened, don't close till morning.