Tag Archives: serial killer

Little Piggie

Posted on January 8, 2021 by Helen

  Little piggie with a knife Little piggy dripping blood Little piggie takes a life Little piggie understood   Laughing masked man in the dark Screaming music like a lark Drawn across a bed of nails Dripping fear and screaming … Continue reading →

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All These Mine

Posted on March 20, 2020 by Helen

  All these mine And more in time The poet never knows the rhyme The killer never knows the kiss Such sweetness he will always miss And yet in time All these are mine Just mine All these mine They’ll … Continue reading →

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The Shrink

Posted on August 8, 2019 by Helen

“What do you see?” I asked the shrink, just like he’d ask me with all those damned Rorschach tests in his cold clinic rooms. I held up my art, my handiwork. The creativity of it thrills me just to think … Continue reading →

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Can You See It?

Posted on June 13, 2019 by Helen

Can you see it in my eyes? In my smile? I see you, behind the mirror, my other self, my best self. You are smiling back at me. You are pleased. Did the blood on my hands soothe you? Did … Continue reading →

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Meticulous

Posted on October 6, 2017 by Helen

I may be a murderer, but I am meticulous. We all have our callings, and this – the slicing and dicing and curing of human meat – is mine. I make it an art work, a vocation. I am careful … Continue reading →

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Help Me

Posted on June 29, 2017 by Helen

“These days no-one can just kill anyone anymore,” Jason said with distaste. “They have to make a show of it, something arty and pretentious.” He had a point. I looked at the sign scrawled in blood on the wall: “Help … Continue reading →

Posted in Horror Flash Fiction | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Broken Chair (Horror Flash Fiction)

Posted on December 20, 2016 by Helen

A desolate house and a single broken child’s chair was all the police found upstairs. The house had been deserted, clearly, for many weeks. The man who lived here was long gone, and only these memories remained. Underneath the house, … Continue reading →

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(Flash Fiction) Broken Birds

Posted on November 25, 2015 by Helen

He liked them brittle. Little, broken birds. And if they were not like that at the beginning, they would surely be that at the end. So he liked the endings best, the final cuts, the final parting words and pleadings. … Continue reading →

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The Hanged Girl – Nineteen

Posted on April 27, 2015 by Helen

Early the next morning the school revellers were awaking. Little real studying had occurred the evening before, and perhaps even the principal would admit that was not really the intended or expected outcome of the event. It was more about … Continue reading →

Posted in Serial Horror Stories, The Hanged Girl | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments