Mr. Wallace was an old military man,
Not much in his life he would understand.
Living with PTSD for many years,
Had brought him to the life he fears.
Living life without any meds,
Killing anyone around that gets into his way and chopping off their heads.
In his basement he hangs their bodies up to dry.
They never asked for this, they never asked to die.
Temptations had arisen and his flare for blood had arose.
The next victim he takes in, would have to be naughty, I suppose.
Doll like clothes, was placed upon the bed.
His victim would have to co operate or show up dead.
The search went on, for the perfect girl, at night he would chase his prey.
A waiting period near the park, would make his day.
He finally found the perfect girl around the age of sixteen.
Blonde curls, dressed in Pearl's, and skin so soft and clean.
He grabbed her from behind, placed tape on her mouth, and knocked her out.
When arriving to his house, he locked her up in a small bedroom painted white.
The windows were covered up in bars and their was very little light.
She was knocked out for a day or two.
She tried to scream but he was right on cue.
He told her that if she ever wanted to make it out alive again.
She must listen to him and do as he says, because right now she needs a friend.
He passed her the doll like clothes, and told her to put them on.
She spat at him, and kicked him, feeling a little strong.
They fought for a bit and he got his way.
Her bruised up arm, was sore, she was not okay.
She put on the clothes and felt pain on her side.
That was from when he kicked her because of a lie.
He made her dance around like a ballerina and oh how she cried.
This is not what he had planned, and his mind was all over the place.
His illness was getting worse, and reddened in his face.
With all these bodies, what is one more.
He brought her to the basement and made her stand still on a chair.
He wanted to sew the clothes on her body and cut off some of her hair.
She was going to be his puppet, on a string
He took some long strings and sewed them on her skin.
She screamed in pain, again and again.
Years have passed and they all were never found.
Justice was never served, imagine he just lived in the next town.
He turns his victim's into puppets and performs a puppet show each year.
She was his special one, the one that will never get away.
He turns play time only for his eyes, day after day.
That night she should of never walked in the park and today she would of been okay.
Sixteen and beautiful to a puppet and she must play, if only she obeys.
©terrylin53
T