Alchemisland

Wet his blade

Paid in satisfaction

Swift action serrated gutripper retraction leaves inexact scars

Fraction of his guts left inside, breached pie steaming beef spilling out

Forcefeed wine, pouring into the snout, fastforward gout until the stomach lining

Bubbles lively on the pavement

Obsessed with dispensing death, breathlessly working his flensing knife along the length of your dead flesh

Gooseflesh when he messes with your dead body, meshing fluids

Rites like the Druids performed, powers about which churches are clueless

Your splayed chest cave raided, ribs raised unnaturally, your abraded organs sate his ogre urges

Fingering the Mandelbrot set of your inner webbing, behind everything more everything

Snipping with abandon, more important looking wires than a set semtex

Convex mound of your opened chest and stomach, your ruined breast like a wing of flesh attached to a hook

Violently attack your body and as requirement to dark arts fucks your dead arse

Pestilent parps with each hip push, pus outfarts, push out farts with his foetid mast

Matted hair and mask faecal matter dappled, fingers your Adam’s apple

Snap your fingers sickening crack like Jack’s neck after Jill’s hands touched his back

At the hill’s base splayed out, seizing as his candle gutters out, his hand held out

Stones marking out his grave, a rough cross bearing his giantslayer name, tack

Your skin to the wall to dry, you are another hide, a hyena who learned to cry

You don’t die easy, he squeezes your eyes eggwhite

Silent Hill foggy your glassy eyes, their pupils truant

Incise along the pubice and pry away prize, the priapic generative organ

Shake pubes off lancet, take the malleable flesh in hand, mortifying before his eyes

Gorges on it, begins chewing on the stubborn prepuce, where the oil which reproduces is produced he grinds his tooth

At first the meat is stubborn, crush proof, worries he’ll need an oven but he’s wolf grew

Mute throughout, he cuts astutely and holds his mouth where it sprays out

Ichor extravasates, a short delay as it goes from jaw to veins, his eyes brindled flames

His throbbing veins enflamed, the beast untamed infames to ensure the fame of his name

No clout in this writing game

Hear sirens as claimed many shipmates

Magwich pace among graves, knows ways, the byways

Escape without delay, strange days these the dismayed detectives cannot make head nor tail

They carry out his victims in fifty sealed trays, through the maze of his apartment complex

They try and name his complex, a new kind of convict, leave them breadcrumb context in the form of his apartment contents 

They say he is insane, suffering advanced derangement highest stage patient

Easily enraged, do not engage unless armed

They follow the smell and find flyblown bin bags full of arms

They find bone cairns and occult charms made to dissuade any invasion

By demon entities, a drawerful of plentiful passports, boys and girls in their twenties

Sent to heaven and stuffed into a bin like empties

They say his heart is empty, mind unhealthy and lacking empathy but he disagrees

Feels delight at the fright they will feel upon finding his elaborate dentistry

Much craft was inspired by HR Giger, eager to display those most pleasing to him

Perhaps ceasing to be human at all

But saddened when they unmoved quickly remove his paintings from the walls

More than two days and he’s feeling withdrawals, scanning headlines for mentions

Stare into the mirror as his mask falls another reflection crawls out, that of his mentor

Barkeep rings the bell for last call, shambling over of lost souled hole-soled who order

Porter to pour it in jaws, poor of pocket and rich of fuck all

Listen for footfalls, predator instinct follows the set slowest, his head lowers

Lower a Guinness to the pint’s hips, lick cream from lips, twisted tenner wrist flicked

Three tenors song on the radio, jaw tensed, every tendon anticipates

He exits and he quickens his step, door opens see his breath

Make a break for it, in the car park amongst oil slicks and puddles of sick 

In black water the streetlights project a stationary Styx, adrenaline hits

Stick to the far wall watching him move down the central thoroughfare

Air is electric, fighting back sick, he moved quick as Christmas morning scalextric 

Fix him with a stick, you fucking prick, blackthorne licks his left side

When he hides his head, his body is struck instead

Even the dying fight death, the indigent insolently wrestles breathlessly with the imminent

It is you who are a criminal, feel his dimming strength

At length press his neck until he joins the liminal

Write dark odes in his blood in a skinbound hymnal.

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Left them brains in jars and carved bone curios, warnings to the curious

Injurious art is an outlet for the furious spirit of harm inhabiting him

A black worm, a lamia, a lambton wyrm, the burning time is coming

They must solve a game to learn his name, left encrypted puzzles only the insane

Could solve

Solve et coagula, shedding of metaphysical duality, moment of violent singularity

Loss of humanity, zenithing empire of vanities before he floods the planet

Immanentizing eschaton, flushed bloodsun, using banned books from the Sorbonne

They are vexed, he’s already onto the next, Fievel headed West.