Part XVIII

(Part 18 focuses again on our old friend, the killer.

Dropping more hints onto his nature)

Curling in a corner

For a good half a hour

Or so later,

Its next kill proved

That traumatic

It couldn’t bear

To run away

Once it had fed

Let alone have the strength

To run away

Instead dragging itself

Into a shadow on the canal

Until it heard

The usual scream

That usually greeted

His handiwork

Over floating with guilt

With each drop of blood

He ripped out of the lad’s throat

Knowing he should have just

Put them out of their misery

Full well knowing

There was nothing

He could do about it.