A Serial Killers Whish List Item # 1 (Please read authors notes before reading poem)
On his belly,
He crawls
Creeping slowly
Through the ferns
On the Forrest floor.
Knife in his mouth
And rage in his heart
He reaches the perimeter
Of the Boy Scout Camp.
The Bonn fire
That lit his way
Now burnt down
To a pile
Of smoldering embers.
Standing up
The dim light before him
Cast a shadow
Of a Demonic Prince
About to be baptized
In the blood
Of his tormentors.
He counts the tents
Nine small
And one large
Eighteen boys
And the Scout Master.
The condemned souls
Of Troop Twenty-two.
Silently he moves
From tent to tent
Killing only one in each.
Cupping his hand
Over nose and mouth
The blade
Slips into
The back of their skulls
Severing brain-stem from spine.
A merciful death
But these nine
Were nice to him.
He had a more befitting end
For the other nine.
How delicious the fear
He soon would taste.
With plastic zip ties
He binds each one
To the aluminum frame
Of their cots
And duct tapes
Each of their mouths.
Ah fear
Anticipation over
The sweet smell
Tickles the taste buds.
It tastes like more.
Eyes wide
And screaming
For their duct taped mouths
That can't!
Each tent he leaves
Reeks of fear
And the sweet smell
Of blood.
Finally
The big tent
The Scout Master
The brass ring
For the ring leader
Of the other nine
Who ridiculed
And humiliated
A boy of
Fragile feelings.
No piercing
No black
To be worn
No Goth wanted
Or needed
In this
Lily white clan
Of do-gooder bullies!
Go back to the freaks
And the cellar dwellers
You came from.
Misfits
Aren't welcome here!
Such a false pathetic excuse
for casting him from their tribe.
But truth freed his demon
to buy them all a ticket,
to the firey gates of hell.
The big tent
Looms before him.
Stealthily
He enters the tent
Carrying a big stone
From the fire ring.
Still hot
And burning his hand.
He doesn't let go
The tactile sensation
Of physical pain
Feels good
But can't over shadow
The pain in his heart.
It only clarifies his vision
Of baptism by fire.
Standing over the big man
In the big tent
Rock held high
Over the sleeping mans head
He yells
Hey you fucking scumbag!
Eyes open
And the rock drops.
Not enough to kill him.
He doesn't get off
That easy!
With his mouth
Duct taped
He makes sure
The Scout Master's eyes
Recognize him
Before duct taping
Them shut.
Ah sensory deprivation
Really heightens the fear!
The Demonic Prince
Is awakened
He smells fear
The Scout Master
Is ripe with it!
Leaving the big tent
He gets to work
Dragging all the ones
That were nice to him
out of their tent's
And ties them standing
Against the trees
facing the fire
So they can watch
The festival of blood
And the baptism by flame
Through the lifeless eyes
Of unfortunate innocence.
First stage of the play set
He frolics through the forest
Gathering enough wood
For a Bonn fire.
The sweet smell
Of blood and fear
Drifts through the forest
Here in Yellowstone Park
And is picked up by the wolves.
Gray is their coat
And black is their heart.
Creatures of the night
Undeniably bound
To the Demon Prince.
He bids them
Wait
Not yet
But soon!
The full Moon
Lights his way
To the dying embers
Of the camp fire.
The wolves balefully howl
At the Moon
And wait.
As if gliding in
On a low lying mist
That blankets
The forest floor
He drops
His load of wood
By the fire.
Back into the big tent
For the coiled rope
He'll need
To complete
This Demonic
Work of art.
For fun
He whispers
In the mans ear
Thank you so much
For unlocking
The evil
That dwells within.
Couldn't have happened
Without you!
Like steam
Rising off a pot
Of boiling water
He could see the fear
Rising up
Off of him.
Delicious!
Wait Not yet
But soon!
His hand reaches down
To the place
On the mans head
Where the rock hit.
He gathers up
The still drying blood.
He paints his face
Licking his hands clean
When he's done.
Now for the rope
Up and over
The closest branch
To the fire.
The wolves
Howl at the Moon
Still keeping their distance.
He rips the shirt
From his body
Leaving on
His camouflage pants
And shit kicker boots.
One by one
He drags the nine
From their tents.
As he removes each one
He stops to paint himself
With the blood of the innocent's
Nine Boy Scouts
Bound and gaged
Nine strokes
Of innocent blood
Decorated his body.
Nine cots faced the fire
Upside down
He removed the duct tape
From their mouths
So the Scout Master
Could hear their screams.
With the rope
Tied to the cot
One by One
He lowered them
Feet first
Into the roaring Bonn fire.
With each and every
Blood curdling scream
The sweet smell of fear
Grew thicker.
Each scream
A paint stroke
On the canvas
Of his Masterpiece!
He danced around
Each and every one of them
As he scorched their feet
Beyond use!
Poetry in motion
His beautiful
Human effigies!
Slowly
He pulls them up
Long before...
They could pass out.
He wanted them awake
for the final act!
He stood all nine
Right side up
And with a sinister laugh
That only the blackest of hearts
Could appreciate
He advised them.
Hold your breath
And do not scream
Or you'll scorch your lungs
And ruin my dream.
One by one
He lowered them
Face first
Into the fire.
Just a few seconds
Enough to make them blind
Though no one would accuse him
Of being over kind!
He laid them down
And cut them free
As the innocents mocked them
Tied to their trees.
And they stumbled blindly
On their hands and their knees.
With the final act
Nearing its end
the Demonic Prince
Dragged out their best friend.
The Scout Master you see
Had his eyes on me
He really wanted to be
My very best friend
But my ass would not part
And my knees would not bend
He already had nine
But he wanted ten
This coward did to boys
What he couldn't do to men!
In the middle of nine boys
All writhing in pain
He placed the Scout Master
Who was nearly insane.
Cutting all the tend-ants
In his arms and his legs
And tearing the clothes
From his body
Cutting the bonds
That held him to the cot
He leaves him
With the motor functions
Of a newborn.
Tearing off the duct tape
Recognition shows in his eyes
he looks down and says
Thank you for awakening
The darkness inside.
Behold your creation
I am the Demonic Prince
The son of Satan!
Before you die
I will give you
What you wanted
So badly in life
And hold your manhood
In my loving arms.
The Demonic Prince smiles
As he reaches down with his knife
And cuts off the scum bags penis
And throws it in the fire.
Blood flowing out
With every beat of his heart
Satan's Prince
Pulls from the fire
A burning stick
And cauterizes the wound.
Can't have you dying
Just yet
My children
Like their food
Alive!
The Demonic Prince
Howled at the Moon
It's dinner time
My little Demons.
And as he danced
Out of the camp site
The wolves pranced in!
He danced down the path
To the rhythm
Of the screams and the howls.
He danced until the sound
Faded into the distance
At the end of the path.
He climbs into his mothers
Ford explorer
And pulls a note pad
Off the passenger seat.
At the top of the first page
Is a title "Revenge".
He picks up a pen
And crosses off
The first item on the list
And looks at the next item
And laughs.
The sinister laugh
That only the blackest of hearts
Could appreciate.
The next item on the list
How could I forget
My High School foot ball team!
But that's a story
For another time
Boys and girls
So until we meet again
Goodnight!
Gold trophy winner
Silver trophy winner
Honorable mention
Bronze trophy winner
Adding your comment:
Anyway another Awesome write
ok this is so scary, but i'd probably be one of the nice ones, that he left alive or killed easliy 
