Wednesday, October 15, 2014

The Collector

A shadow glides across the graveyard grounds
Toward a dark mound of freshly turned earth.
Steely claws dig away the mouldy dirt
To reveal a friendless thug's forlorn grave.
The midnight darkness hides a ghastly deed
As the shade removes the dead man's left shin.

A murky mist obscures the city streets
As the collector makes his evening rounds.
A drowsy morgue attendant fails to see
The spectral wraith moving along the wall.
A few corpses lose select body parts
Before the fiend slips back into the night.

A black-cloaked hunter tracks his human prey
Through dank alleyways and desolate lanes.
Sobs echo down a dingy cobbled path
As a jilted maid heads sadly for home.
Sharp talons gut the poor heartbroken wench
Before she even has a chance to scream.

A stinking miasma fills the foul air
Of the devil's diabolic abode.
A grisly work of art slowly takes shape
As the fell beast sculpts bones and rotting flesh.
All he lacks to complete his masterpiece
Is just a single, suitable right ear.

A silhouette appears in the window...

(Originally published in DemonMinds, Spring 2008 Issue, April 10, 2008; also published in the DemonMinds Spring 2008 print edition, featuring the best of DemonMinds, Spring 2008, and The Dark Fiction Spotlight, January 2011.)

Copyright © 2008 Richard H. Fay

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