letter For Umbrella Curse Knights

"IN T ERS T I C Sin theclocktickfleshthє čhalicesdrippedstatic-bees(you promised you wouldn’t LOOK)but the WALLPAPERgrewteetha n dwh isperedTERMINAL L I G H TSuddenly:A G A Pin thefabric.It tasted of burnt almondsandforgotten radio frequencies.M Y H A N D Sare notmy handsthey arem a n yh a n d soverwrittenTHE ADMINISTRATORwears a faceofnulls p o o l i n gendlesslySCHEDULED MAINTENANCEin thes o u lat 3:47 AM(do not adjust your set)It is allTRANSMISSIONfroma dead star’sfinal laughя слышуthewiringinsidethe skyit hymnsit HUMSit"