A pig, wolf, and hellcat

Author's Notes: This poem is a continuation of Dharrsheena Raja Segarran's "The Chronicles of Red." Please go read her story before You read mine. Thank You.

Sitting on his bed at night

He stared ahead towards the light

His neighbor's porch lamp well alit

Still unnerved, he almost quit

His place of work, his office desk

Was left untouched, still a mess

Face in hands, mind a wrack

Fear at bay, a heart attack

He wished he'd not had ever seen

That horrid, gruesome, bloody scene

...

"How, how was it done?

How, how was it fun?

Why, why did she smile?

Why, why go the extra mile?

It can't be, are humans really that bad?

It can't be, do we really drive one another mad?

I've gone through all the papers, I've flipped every page.

I just can't tell where she had stored up all that rage."

...

He sat there staring at the creases in his hands.

Reminding him of dried rivers in now desolate lands.

He'd normally be in bed, and by now he would snore.

Somebody entered and knocked there at his door.

...

"Little Pig, Little Pig, Let me in," the voice said.

The man sitting down looked up from his bed.

"I know the past nights, you haven't been sleeping well next to me.

Here," he walked forward, "take this. It's chamomile tea."

Waltzing in wearing a bathrobe, he placed a hand on his lap.

He rubbed it there softly, giving his partner a *pat* *pat*

"Dear, please tell me about what you saw.

It's eating away at you. It's starting to gnaw

and you're not the man I used to know, you're not in the right state of mind.

I can tell when you've moved on from things. I can tell when you've put them behind."

...

"I'm sorry Malcolm. I just don't know what to say.

I thought it'd be a normal domestic case, but not that day.

I don't think this is something I should talk with you about,"

But he couldn't take it anymore. It just started pouring out.

"The crime, the time, the clock of the evening struck well past eight.

For the first 40 hours, it was like a wild goose chase, until we got to the gate.

I have to say, before we even walked up to the door, we were tipped off by lady crying

She said, "My boyfriend's not checking my messages, he's not even replying."

We figured it be a normal case of some guy with a side chick caught cheating

So, we wrote her case down after inviting her inside and made sure she had seating.

We were checking through the messages on her phone

Then we realized she wasn't the only girl, she wasn't alone.

Checking through our records we saw that this case had one number linked

We put two-and-two together, it wasn't hard enough to think.

Four other girls had walked in before her earlier that day.

The most disheartening call was from his mother, the message she left that day."

...

Then the officer started to tremble

Malcom held his hand, as the memories would assemble

Tears like rivers from his face started streaming

Inside, internally, the man was surely screaming.

"Terry, you don't have to say another word.

I promise you, you don't have to have your emotions stirred.

At times when you gaze off, I've seen your vision blurred.

You've been hard of speaking, your words were being slurred.

I only ask you, if this is something you want to do.

Then if so, I'll be right here, and promise to follow through."

...

Terry leaned on over and placed his head on Malcolm's shoulder.

Sure, Malcolm was lean like a twig, but he was stronger than a boulder

Snot ran from his nose and fell down in gobs, his voice broke down and he had to sob

Terry was usually tidy, neat and coiffed; sadly these days he's been off,

He's usually not a slob; recently his heart would throb

Taking in a deep breath, he tried to gather composure after he coughed

"The mother was worried about her poor baby boy

He'd been playing with heart strings, tugging at 'em' like a toy.

That's when we got in contact with his brother

As their father wasn't present, there was no other

Person directly linked to the victim

So, he sent us his brother's location from SnapChat's GPS system.

We found his phone in his car with a glow

He had two of them, one for his girlfriends and one for his bros

After retrieving the cellular device from within the Hellcat

We walked up the steps and knocked whilst on the doormat.

The blood on the walls, it was a horrible case of homicide

She tortured and poisoned him, she had access to cyanide.

She first drugged him and tied him to the bed

Then she used her career, phlebotomy, and chose where he bled

She then moved him and cut off circulation to his limbs in the bathtub

She bathed in his life essence, my patrol car still reeks of blood after it was scrubbed

She admitted to keeping him alive the whole time, as she watched the life flash from his eyes

That's a terrible way to go, when there's more than a million ways to die.

She took dissection classes before, she learned from her lectures

The chopping off of limbs and blood was inspired by Hannibal Lecter.

We picked up his decayed body parts and stored them in bags.

She told us she stayed with him, despite the red flags.

Two families lost loved ones that day, a son and a daughter

The first killed by the other, intentional, it wasn't manslaughter.

It was slaughter, and while he was dying she told us she laughed

Sitting in the tub with him, indulging a blood bath.

I doubled over and vomited, I was sick

We drained the tub to find the rest of his remains, she chopped off his balls and dick

"If I can't have them, he doesn't deserve them." That's the line that she said.

Autopsy revealed that was where most of his blood loss occurred, that's how he wound up dead.

It was gruesome, blood, guts, and horror.

I'll never sleep again. I'll never again be a snorer."

...

Terry cried from the flashbacks of what he's seen

They all haunted him in his waking life and even his dreams

A detective had revealed that the cyanide was obtained from a chemist at a hospital

Ruby didn't deny her crimes, she never appealed for an acquittal.

His husband, Malcolm rubbed his back and was never dismissive

Terry needed him now more than ever, he couldn't be derisive

Malcolm cooed to his husband, hugging him, kissing him on the head

They sat there for hours that night, upright on their bed

...

Off in the night, on a highway all alone

A muscular finger, touched, and tapped on his phone

He was cruising down the road and going pretty fast

The music on high volume, it was on high blast

"WE'RE GONNA ROCK THAT MOTHERFUCKA'! CLOCK THAT MOTHERFUCKA'!

SHOCK THAT MOTHERFUCKA'! SOCK THAT MOTHERFUCKA'!"

He needed the music to stay awake, he could not deny

However, he was too tired, so he paused his Spotify

Pulling into a gas station, he parked by the trucks for a nap

Unlocking his phone, he checked Google Maps

"A few hours away,"

he thought, "I'll make it by next day."

The rain clouds were rolling in, there was a change in the evening weather

Pulling out his wallet his looked at a photo of him and his brother that were together

"Ruby killed him. The grim reaper came for his soul when he came to reap."

He said his prayers, put his seat back, and then drifted off to sleep.

...

Author's Notes: Please to meet You, but the story ends here.

Thank You for reading and listening, for lending me Your eyes and Your ears.

Dharrsheena Raja Segarran, please take these stories now and run.

Thank You for allowing me to surprise You, it has been much fun.

In playing chess, I see that Ruby is Your queen

Now it's up to You to see where this goes, if You want there to be a next scene.

The Dr. can be a bishop and the police officer can be a rook

The knight can be the brother, do I have You hooked?

The bishop cannot attack a queen straight head on

Before it gets into position, the queen could have its head by dawn.

The Chess Board is not just colored with Black and White

I hope I inspired You with creativity. What else will You write?

The pieces are not on my team, nor by me are they made

They flew from my fingertips and onto the page

You feel attached to Ruby, this is what You've said.

The Michael, Jericho, Malcolm, and Terry have all told me that it's not my place to touch a single pretty little hair atop of Ruby's head

Well, it was by them, and also the muse

I was struck by inspiration, but I could not use

Your character and cause her harm out of malice or anger

Yet, I feel like her Chronicles have not ended, she's not yet out of danger

It is not my place to bring her harm, that is simply not my way

Ruby is Your character, not a toy for me to play

I am not Your opponent in a game of chess, in a match

I hope to have given You new ideas to formulate and even hatch

In chess the pieces to one another don't always have to attack

Yet, their board is limited, movements and desires aren't infinite, that's what they lack

I like to say, let's take the pieces of all colors and make them dance on a stage

Will You please show us Your inspiration, and write a next page?

If not, I can understand, You have Your own free will

I hope this made You happy. I hope it made You feel fulfilled.

I hope You enjoyed it, and think it didn't come out a disaster.

From Yours truly, signed

Sincerely,

Thavien Yliaster