the Killer of Mayfield Maze

A bashful moon behind tattered clouds
shone dimly on the road below.
The forest shadows became like shrouds
in the silvered light’s soft glow.

In the midst of the street a man lay still
no life-giving breath he breathed.
Just the latest he was in this violent kill
from death-filled weapons unsheathed.

With screaming sirens and flashing lights
the detective arrived onsite.
Hank now dreaded these fearsome nights
and the wicked, bloody rite.

The sixth to join this gruesome spree
the victim lay sprawled where he’d died.
He’d been brought down as he tried to flee,
with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

The blood congealed in puddles and pools
As the body grew stiff and cold.
The cop felt part of a company of fools
As he watched the scene unfold.

The coroner weakly pronounced the man dead,
as he reached for his medical case.
There was so much blood, dark and red
covering the shredded face.

A lady reporter slipped up by his side.
“What did this?” she asked in a whisper.
“Danged if I know,” the officer lied.
“You do,” her voice now stronger and crisper.

“You know exactly who this killer is,”
She said, a challenge in her voice.
Her eyes peered deep as they looked into his,
“You have to tell me.  You have no choice.”

“An animal lives in the heart of man.”
He spoke both low and soft.
“Ageless, its life the centuries span.”
He cleared his throat, then coughed.

He paused a bit, looking at her.
“The killer is both man and beast.”
He held in his hand a bit of fur
He’d found on the recently deceased.

She gasped, then touched the downy fluff
“Are you saying...?” she couldn’t go on.
“As long as he lives, he’ll never have enough,
“I go after him at dawn.”

From back in the trees, yellow eyes peered out,
tortured and empty they seemed.
Looking this way and that, they cast about
Wondering at all he’d dreamed.

But was it a dream? He was covered in blood.
The man’s screams echoed through his brain.
Mem’ries began to come back in a flood
As he stared at the man he’d slain.

As the moon slipped down in the brightening sky
And he rose from under his curse,
the killer thought for the thousandth time, why?
Why is my heart so perverse?

What have I done to deserve such pain
for myself and my victims alike?
Oh how I long to shed this bane
and live an innocent life!


But it cannot be and I know it well
I’m doomed for the rest of time.
I’ll spend forever in fiery hell
where I’ll pay the price for my crime.

He walked out now from the forest deep.
An ordinary man he looked.
He headed home to get some sleep
and see how his day was booked.

The officer saw the dapper man
walking out from ‘neath the trees.
He’d not seen him enter the leafy stand
that rustled gently in the breeze.

“Sir, could you stop for a moment? Sir?”
The man looked back and rushed on.
“What do you know of this bit of fur?”
But the man was suddenly, gone.

***

The New England town was centuries old
and built ‘round an English garden.
The town of Mayfield grew to enfold
the square used for punishment and pardon.

At the garden’s center was an old yew maze
and from that the town took its name.
Known as “Mayfield Maze” from its early days,
It now hid its face in shame.

“The Killer of Mayfield Maze,” people said,
and the town fathers winced in disgrace.
The headlines blared, ‘NOW SIX ARE DEAD’
with reporters all over the place.

As he sat at his desk the very next day,
Hank couldn’t shake the feeling
that he’d known the stranger some time, some way.
The truth would send him reeling.

Now standing by his desk with one hip cocked
was Billie, the lady reporter.
“Find more fur?”, she gently mocked.
She was really Hank’s biggest supporter.

“Nah,” he replied, “but I’m on my way out
to go over the crime scene once more
“Want to come with me, have a look about?”
He asked as he walked out the door.

That night, as the moon began its ascent,
The stranger nervously waited,
Trying to avoid the awful torment
of dead bodies he’d desecrated.

He’d been just a child, playing in the wood
when he chanced upon a wolf cub.
Playing together roughly, the cub nipped him good
creating a novice in this select club.

Since then, each month for a day or two,
he’d succumb to the curse he’d been given
When the full moon shone through
to remind him of the hell he’d been living.

When a child, he’d forget the lives he’d take,
Kittens and puppies and rabbits.
His parents would find excuses to make
for his increasingly gruesome habits.

He didn’t remember much of his childhood years,
It seems there’d been a sibling or two
He recalled his parents, overcome by fears
leaving him, bidding no adieu.

A teen alone on the city streets
he soon became a magnet for abusers.
His tormentors were just like cuts of meat
As he took his revenge on the losers.
***

The sun was slipping toward another day’s end,
and our killer was locking on chains
tying himself to his flea-bitten bed
to stop the blood flowing from a victim’s veins.

He lay there hoping, but expecting the worst,
‘til the moonlight crept through the pane.
The transformation began; all the chains burst,
and he sang his monthly refrain.

Out on the street, Hank heard the sound
telling him the monster was about.
He loaded his gun with silver rounds
And prayed, momentarily devout.

He didn’t wait long ‘til he heard a low growl
and turned to find the beast at his back.
He raised his gun at the creature foul
and fired ere the wolf could attack.

The beast stopped short and collapsed on the ground
its lifeblood draining away.
With each drop lost, the change was profound
as the enormity of the curse was displayed.

The man underneath was winsome and fair.
the sight sent Hank falling back.
He dropped to his knees, sobbing there
as he watched the man’s face go slack.

Billie ran up and found him thus
“Hank, thank God you’re all right.”
“They left him,” Hank cried, “and took the rest of us.
We traveled all through the night.”

Hank spoke through his sobs and told a sad tale
of parents afraid for their lives.
Of running away and leaving no trail
unsure if one had survived.

“I haven’t seen him in many years,
since fear beat my father and mother,”
Hank’s face was contorted and wet with tears,
“Oh, Billie, the killer’s my brother!”