The Crime Of The Serial Killer

It is an evil-eyed serial killer

He abducts one of three

“By thy hockey mask and bloodstained cleaver

Why kidnappest thou me?

“The camp-site rings with shouts and laughter

My teenage friends all within

Whooping it up with bonfire, beer

Drugs and sex and sin.”

He scolds her with his evil tongue

“There was a victim,” said he

“A juicy morsel, ye well may guess

Sky high on Ecstasy.”

He ties her with a bungee cord

Gags her to make her still

Then sits down to talk and talk

Until he’s had his fill.

The girl lay unable to move

To groan or shut her ear

And so spoke on the serial killer

That modern buccaneer.

“The victim cute, slim as a flute

Blonde hair just like a mop

Limbs thin as sticks, and on her cheeks

Of freckles she had quite a crop.

“The victim threw a wicked screw

No virgin, then, was she –

So sealed her fate by all the Laws

Of B-Movie Industry.

“Tempting fate like all good-time girls’

Snorting cocaine by the spoon –“

The gagged girl tried screaming hard

For help against this goon.

Her teenage friends sit round the fire

Guzzling beer and smoking dope –

While she lies gagged with a dirty sock

And tied with bungee rope.

The gagged girl she tried to scream

Could scarce manage a moan

The serial killer talked on and on

While whittling on a bone.

“I caught her and took her home

Tied her with clothesline strong

To the chair before the TV

And made her watch King Kong.

“While Kong ran hard, through the town

With one hand slapped copters down

In the mirror I practised my frown

Slapped peanut butter on bread

‘Tis hungry work, this kind of quirk

I have inside my head.

“By the time the film was done

She slopped with sweat and fear

She’d come off her cocaine high

And peed out all that beer.

“I decided to teach her the

Difference between right and wrong

And since I am a music lover

I told her that in song.

“And my voice trilled in my basement

As hers whined in a keen

We must have made quite a duet

Sharp and wild, lean and mean.

“I sung of this, I sung of that

While I walked all around

While she moaned, blubbered, howled

Or made not a sound.

“With dental floss, a little moss

The aid of a Bunsen flame

I forced her to take part in

A harmless little game.

“I fed her bread with peanut butter

Some of my famous stew

Of rotting cheese and garlic sauce

Onions and jackfruit too.

“But she whined, and said it stank

My example she wouldn’t follow –

I realised my teachings had

Been wasted on a head all hollow.

“She whined by day, she whined by night

She drove me to despair

Till I dragged out by the roots

Clumps of my thinning hair.”

“Umph humph umph, serial killer

Your dirty sock’s gone bust

Of all the gags you could have used

This must have been the worst.”

“Shut your mouth, you captive wench

And listen to my rants

Or I’m going to gag you again

With my dirty underpants.

“Meanwhile up rose the Great Detective

From his hotel bed rose he

Stretched his limbs, brushed his teeth

And walked down to the sea.

“And he lolled there on the beach

Half-naked girls to ogle

Watched them jump and laugh and play

Till his mind began to boggle.

“Then came a call from the Police Chief

It was a tale of woe –

The air grew chiller, with talk of a killer

Who caused the blood to flow.

A freak insane, and the police brain

Helpless watched the blood just flow.

“Not scared nor bowed, ‘fore Death’s own shroud

The Great Detective kissed

Goodbye to the beach, made a farewell speech

Told the girls they would be missed.

‘Duty calls,’ said he, ‘it calls to me

You ladies will be missed.’

“Seeking a clue, he hunted through

The victims’ bedrooms three

And fluent cursed, a headache nursed

For no clue led to me.

“Down dropped the dead, the blood flowed down

The gutters red as red can be

And my prey quivered at the thought

Of their inevitable destiny.

“While the Great Detective hunted, I

Slept away the hot dry noon

And stalked the evening, dressed to kill

Baying at the moon.

“Day after day, and day after day

That victim whined at me

Whine nag whine, till in a while

I wished I could set her free.

“Bloodlust, bloodlust everywhere

My eyes began to blink

Bloodlust, bloodlust, everywhere

So many heads to shrink.

“Those dead lips did grin and mouth

Words obscene as could be!

Those slimy guts did bleed all red

All over my territory.

“All about, politicians stout

Fat with stolen food and wine

Declared that the lives of millions

Depended on ending mine.

“A little scream brought cops all running

It was such fun to see

Them gather and sweat, and look all wet

I scarce could hide my glee.

“The Great Detective too followed hard

Came crawling on my trail

With deerstalker, pipe, magnifying glass

He swore he would not fail.

“Meanwhile, hey! Each and every day

What whining I had to bear

In my basement, through my casement

Till I had no hair to tear.

“Each day I blustered, threatened, yelled

Sometimes had to strike a blow –

But weary day by weary day

My nerves were worn all low

When looking out I beheld

Someone hiding in the hedgerow.

“At first it seemed a deerstalker

Someone had left lying there

But then it moved; I saw below

A hank of greasy hair.

“It was of course the Great Detective

I knew from what I’d seen

He’d found and tracked me down

With his bloodhound sense so keen.

“I went out, I walked around

The house from the back

(Stopping a moment to watch a girl

Well, she had quite a rack.)

“I went up behind the Great Detective

Gently tapped him on the head

Imagine my surprise when the Great Detective

From sheer fright dropped dead.

“I dragged his corpse down the steps

The deerstalker followed free

Bobbing around in the air,

Like driftwood on the sea.

“Like one, a cheated lover

Who enters his girl’s house in dread

And having seen what is to see

Turns no more his head

For he knows she and a man

Lie joined upon her bed.”

“Let me go, serial killer!

Real bad I need the loo!

Besides I need to be away

A little while from you.”

“Calm down, you little fool

Tighten your sphincter a bit –

For I’m sure you’d rather tighten up

Than lose the use of it.

“Under the ‘stalker was a gibbering ghost

Of ghastly greenish hue

His bad breath, when he spoke

Made me want to spew.

“I fired up my trusty chainsaw

To cleave that ghost in twain

But he jumped on to pleasure himself

On the saw’s buzzing chain.

“Moan and groan, and nagging tone

From my victim all the while

Till the gorge rose in my mouth

All full of bitter bile.

“Sick and tired of ghost and maid

The chainsaw down I threw

Snatched up my knife, to take my life

Which felt like doggy-doo.

“Then I paused, for I had

An idea divine –

It cooled down my fevered brain

Like a draught of sparkling wine.

“I wed gibbering ghost to whining girl

With a pat upon his back

Cheered as with a joyous yowl

He pulled her through a crack.

“The crack was in the basement’s floor

Far underneath the town

With a sound like thunder, then –

The building fell right down.

“The building fell, and crashed and crumbled

Crushed everything down to earth

And I thought I heard the Great Detective’s

Ghost guffaw and howl with mirth.

“But I am a serial killer

A sequel is a must

However many times they put me down

I will not bite the dust.

“From the rubble, then, I rose

All eager for the kill rose I –

Strode out of the ruins, shrieking

My vengeance to the sky.

“A policeman there, who stopped to stare

Fell down in a swoon.

Another took to kicking out

And giggling like a loon.

‘It’s clear,' grinned he, 'full plain I see

The Devil loves to moon.'

“I strolled past them, and killed a few

Gawkers just for the fun

Chopped off their heads, and laughed aloud

Watching the others run.

“I go, now, from girl to girl

Force them to hear my speech

And ‘til it’s done, I stick to them

Much tighter than a leech.

“Now that you’ve heard my tale

In words of blood and steel

You’re bored to have heard it once?

Just think of how I feel.”

The serial killer then left the girl

Into the night went he

Looked once over his shoulder, and

Vanished behind a tree.

The girl freed herself and stumbled

Into the camp’s welcome light

Popped some pills, and soon felt better

Was higher than a kite.

The serial killer walks the night

Still seeking victims new –

I think you should be warned now

He’s coming right for you.

Copyright B Purkayastha 2011

[With no apologies whatsoever to Samuel Taylor Coleridge]