‘Twas the night before Halloween in an old wooden house
Where a creature was wearing a white bloody blouse
It gnawed and it chewed, splatting blood everywhere
As each of its victims watched horribly in despair

The children were tied with a rope around their heads
As their stomachs cut open and their intestines spread
The mothers in the cellar, each tied with a strap
With some broken bones, they escaped from the trap

Outside they ran, some stumble and clatter
And those who were caught were served on a platter
Some heads were smashed or severed with a lash
And some were kept as reserves in the stash

The house was surrounded by a wary scarecrow
That marked the graves of decomposing bodies below
Bodies that grew in numbers each year
With no explanation as they perished out of nowhere

The creature was human before it got sick
She was known as the wife of the old grumpy Nick
From a small unsuspected bite, a creature she became
And in the midnight hours, she was difficult to tame

“It hunts like a panther
Satisfying the hunger within
In a prison that’s secluded
Served with flesh of virgins and children
A light from the torch
Shaped like a ball
To guide its way, so runaway
Runaway all”

It could hear you breathing, it could hear you cry
Could sense your heartbeat, even as you sigh
The craving for flesh motivated it to pursue
Grief-stricken humans, soon became a stew

It escaped the old house and climbed to the roof
As the dogs in the neighborhood continued to woof
A person on the street, yes! a meal, it had found
And it bounced on its prey who fell helplessly on the ground

The victim screamed as she encountered the brute
A passerby heard and with his rifle, he shoot
The neighbors awoke and used the drops of blood to track
The wounded creature that had been shot in the back

The creature ran to the house of the man she used to marry
While an enraged group of people chased her in a hurry
The pain in her body made her stamina low
As blood from the gunshot wound continued to flow
Old Nick opened the door and hid her inside, in discrete
He treated her wound, sprawled her down on a clean sheet
He then prepared for her, an infant’s rancid belly
And other mutilated, decomposing human deli

She lay on the bed as she rested herself
For days she kept hidden as she restored back her health
Her husband carried out all the killings instead
But her appetite was not enough for her to be fed

In the dark she lured as old Nick does his handiwork
Her hunger was immense as her face gave a smirk
Without second thoughts, she lunged at him and he froze
But he was alert and punched her already-disfigured nose

He ran to the drawer and took out his pistol
Then gave her a shot, a single, double, triple
She dropped to the ground and vanished out of his sight
On that dreadful evening before Halloween night

(Inspired by the poem ‘Twas the Night before Christmas)

© Pancake Bunnykins

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