The Short Career of a Serial Killer















This poem came about with the strangest inspiration and it has been gathering dust for a long time now. I thought I would post it here to see what you think and if this poem should continue to see the light of day.

He was a happy man he really was,

Fred had it all.

A wonderful wife named Laura

and two little girls – Megan and Pam.

He was a nine to five man,

working at the local cannery.

They packed up vegetables

and he even got cans to take home.

Being a middle size town,

the cannery was the center of it all.

So each noon the big whistle would blow,

announcing that lunchtime had arrived.

It happened rather oddly,

strangely I might say.

One Monday that whistle blew

and Fred got a strange gleam in his eyes.

He went outside and drove off in his blue Ford,

looking for a place to have some food.

Now he never had lunch with his cannery pals –

Fred was a loner you see.

It was the spring of the year

and Fred wondered if he should eat in the park.

It was then that he saw Sally,

all red wavy hair and curls.

She was quite taken by Fred,

who was handsome indeed.

Now you see she was delighted by him,

so soon Fred and Sally were having their lunch,

in a quiet place on the grass in the park.

When they were done,

Fred suggested they walk some.

So they wandered along some of the more remote paths

and Sally was ready to give Fred a good-bye kiss.

Oddly enough Fred had no idea,

how the cannery dagger had gotten in his pocket.

It seemed so easy

and it was such a delight,

to see Sally’s eyes grow wide with fright.

He made sure he dug that dagger in deep,

then he shoved her into the bushes that were there.

Cleaned off his dagger and went back to work.

Now Fred had figured he had much more time,

to decide how things would work out,

but when he arrived at home,

his teary-eyed wife said –

Oh, my some man’s dog,

found a woman’s body.

today in the park.

He comforted Laura

and assured her,

that in her everyday world,

she was quite safe.

That night he read a story,

to his daughters

and held his wife during the night.

The following morning,

victim Sally was all the news.

Luckily she hadn’t been local,

but she had been someone’s daughter.

It made Fred rather queasy inside

and he hurried off to work real quick,

but it just so happened that Fred –

had a problem which he couldn’t control.

Perhaps the fifteen years at the cannery,

had made him noon whistle sensitive.

Whatever the reason,

at noon that whistle did blow.

Fred’s eyes clouded over,

it had never been this way before.

He jumped into his blue Ford,

this time he drove as they say,

to the bad part of town.

There he found a lovely woman,

sitting alone in a rundown cafe.

Mabel was pretty

and she was friendly.

When lunch was over,

she and Fred went for a walk.

There were shabby streets,

but Fred liked to see,

that there were also lots of alleyways.

It was in one of them,

that they would find Mabel,

in a garbage container,

but for now it was back to the cannery.

Fred came home with flowers for his wife,

Laura was much more relaxed

and it appeared that Sally had been,

just one unfortunate woman

and no more than that.

What would happen at noon the next day,

didn’t concern Fred,

as he made love to his Laura that night.

Now as it so often happens,

when things are made haphazard

and not carefully planned,

round three in the morning,

a bum was searching,

for meal he badly needed.

He didn’t find what he was looking for,

instead it was Mabel he found.

The next morning Fred awoke,

when he entered the kitchen.

he found his wife –

staring in horror at the morning news.

As the police pulled Mabel out,

they thought of poor Sally too.

Now this being Wednesday

and those strange cravings,

had begun on Monday,

Fred wondered how long his new career would last.

To him it didn’t seem odd,

that these strange new things were happening,

‘cause to Fred it seemed,

as though each time –

he was quite removed from himself.

So off to work he went,

kissing Laura and the girls.

Everyone was talking,

every paper had a story.

Except this time it seems,

no one knew who Mable was.

Sure she had a first and last name

and she had worked in a waterfront bar.

Beyond that she was as different from Sally,

as she could be.

Sally it turned out,

had come to town,

hoping to land a job,

at the local Holiday Inn.

So Fred figured he’d be safe,

for a while at least,

just as long as there was variety.

Came noon and that whistle did blow,

off drove Fred,

this time he drove out to the big mall.

Figuring he’d find someone,

to have lunch with,

in the park across the way.

Now this time Fred almost got caught,

and the woman wasn’t dead yet.

He accidentally bumped into a blond,

this one was Mary who was a saleslady.

she often had lunch in the park

and she and Fred bought food and even a bottle of wine.

Now as they were heading out the door of the mall,

Laura was heading in.

Fred grabbed a hold of Mary’s hand

and pulled her into a nook.

It was a little too early,

for the kiss that ensued,

but this time Fred had to improvise indeed.

Then when it was safe,

they ventured forth to their picnic.

The day was lovely,

but Fred’s heart was heavy.

He wanted it to end real quick,

in case Laura might see his blue Ford.

They ate and they talked,

this time Mary was looking forward to another kiss.

It all happened a little too quick

and Fred looked about desperately.

Then he saw a crumbled old brick wall,

behind that he propped poor Mary.

Faster than lightning,

Fred dashed back to the mall parking lot.

He saw Laura’s car and relaxed,

back to the cannery he went.

Now when midnight came

and there was no news,

he began to wonder,

how it would be –

on Thursday when that whistle would blow.

Pretty soon they’d find,

not one but two bodies oh, my.

Well to Fred the adrenaline was pumping,

so he left for work.

His daughters reminded him,

that Friday was Parent’s Day at school.

When the whistle blew that Thursday,

Fred drove off real quick,

this time he drove down to the waterfront,

he’d never gone there before.

The cafes and bars were sleazy,

but he figured a woman from here,

most likely would probably never even be missed.

He found her just as he had hoped,

a poor unfortunate soul.

Josie lived for the favors,

she could pick up,

especially among the sailors –

who steamed into town.

Fred was a treat to her,

a gentleman in every way.

They had lunch in one of the cafes

and Josie said she’s show him,

how nice it was to walk along the waterfront.

Now Fred was thinking,

how easy this would be,

as they sat on the edge of the pier,

Josie’s kiss was quite sweet.

Before he knew it there was blood,

glazed eyes and all,

Josie rolled into the sea.

Fred went whistling to his car,

figuring that he had nothing to fear at all.

Mary and Josie sure they’d find them,

eventually or perhaps Josie was already adrift out to sea.

That evening he was unprepared,

when his wife hysterically announced,

my goodness I was at the mall the other day.

They’ve found a dead woman,

in the park across the way.

Fred patiently smiled and said,

now Laura if you don’t stray far from crowds,

you have nothing to fear at all.

The next day being Friday,

he promised to be home early,

as they all had to go to the school that night

and he assured his wife,

he’d take them all somewhere that weekend.

Driving to work in anticipation of the noon whistle,

Fred wondered how long he could continue.

What was safe and what wasn’t,

he learned from what was on the news.

Seems Mary was a single woman,

who lived with her sister.

However they were now saying,

that there were similarities,

in the way that the previous two were stabbed.

Sure none of the women had known each other,

found in quite different places,

but a pattern was beginning to form.

Fred grinned to himself,

just as long as he kept moving about.

So when the Friday noon whistle blew,

Fred drove off heading out for the town limits.

However what he heard on the news,

somehow disturbed him and gave him unease.

They said that at the park and at the cafe,

both women in question had been seen,

with a handsome man,

who it appeared each time,

drove off all alone in a shabby blue Ford.

Now Fred began to sweat,

he didn’t like this at all,

but he figured if he laid low,

that weekend and dumped his car for another used one,

he might just possibly OK.

Especially since when the cannery was closed

and that nasty old noon whistle didn’t blow.

Just at the town limits was a large diner

and Fred walked in looking all around.

There he found Jenny sad and all alone.

They had a fun lunch and Fred took her for a short drive.

There upon a hilltop he did his nasty deed

and rolled poor Jenny down the other side.

When he saw the body disappear beneath some bushes,

Fred drove back to town.

Those news reports seemed to be getting more and more disturbing

and that night when they all gathered at the school,

Fred found out that Mary’s sister was the school principal.

Laura thought it rather odd,

that since their daughters were well liked at school,

why was Fred so quiet that night.

Fred was becoming a nervous wreck

and couldn’t wait to get another car.

In fact he’d gone so far,

as to consider growing a mustache and beard.

Meanwhile some country children,

climbing that same fateful hill,

discovered poor Jenny in the bushes

and went running home screaming.

Now the police had four bodies

and it didn’t look good,

they figured a serial killer was in their midst.

The wounds were the same

and they were trying to connect,

that shabby old Ford with the handsome gentleman,

that had been seen.

It was now ten on Friday night

and to the police,

it seemed the bodies were piling up quick.

The sergeant received a call,

some old bum along the waterfront,

had stumbled over a woman’s body,

which had been washed ashore.

When they took a look at Josie,

they found her to be a silent witness,

for in her hand she tightly clutched,

hapless Fred’s credit card.

Round about one in the morning,

Laura was woken,

by crazy bell ringing and pounding upon the door.

Now seeing that Fred was still sleeping,

she figured something awful had happened

and maniacs and burglars,

don’t ring doorbells or pound on the door.

At least so Laura thought,

so she put on her robe and headed on down.

When she reached the front hall,

there were police lights flashing all around,

making crazy light circles on the walls.

Laura opened the door,

to two detectives and three policemen.

The street appeared to be full of cars,

all of their lights flashing.

She inquired as to what had happened

and the detective firmly said,

that they needed to talk to her husband,

like right now, like right away.

Laura frowned and as she grew more confused,

she heard at least to her relief,

Fred’s footsteps upon the stairs.

Laura turned to see,

that as Fred reached the bottom step,

he stopped and sadly smiled,

to the detectives he asked – How?

It was at this moment that Laura saw,

them holding up Fred’s credit card.

Her face grew pale

and Fred said he had known,

that soon he’d probably make a mistake.

When his wife heard this,

it was like she knew

and she heard herself,

croak in a hoarse whisper –

Fred, all of them?

To which he nodded his head

and Laura fell into a dark void.

When she opened her eyes in the morning,

she was in her own bed.

Her father and mother were there

and when her father took her hand,

he simply said that she’d see Fred no more.

Latest posts by Rasma Raisters (see all)

Rasma Raisters

I am a poet and writer. I write for many different sites online. I have two published books of poems on Amazon - Poetic Thoughts Fly and On the Wings of Love.

12 thoughts on “The Short Career of a Serial Killer

  • November 12, 2016 at 5:34 AM

    Wow, what an amazing poem. You captured the psyche of a serial killer brilliantly. Well done. There is a lot of darkness in the air lately 🙂

    • November 15, 2016 at 4:18 AM

      I think that another darkness once was the inspiration for this poem John. Finally I thought it should again see the light of day.

  • November 12, 2016 at 6:17 AM

    Awesome – lol…and I wonder how it is you such insight into the mind of a serial killer? – … enjoyed it very much…

    • November 15, 2016 at 4:19 AM

      I have had an incredible imagination ever since I was little being an only child often entertaining myself in my own world for hours Kurt. When really inspired I step into many different worlds.

    • November 15, 2016 at 4:20 AM

      Thank you Phyllis. Yes, I remember when I wrote it I kept it in poem form but it could have been a short story.

  • November 12, 2016 at 11:49 AM

    Chilling insight into the dark mind of a sadistic killer. Very well done, Rasma.

  • November 12, 2016 at 2:28 PM

    They are out there, aren’t they, seeming perfectly normal to the whole world around them…except the ones they targets. Not always a he, some she’s can be pretty scary too.

  • November 12, 2016 at 6:35 PM

    A great story so well told, and probably more flash fiction that poetry, but so enthralling and evocative. So many people of so-thought normal family backgrounds turn out to be killers or lead second lives. Its a strange quirk of nature that anyone would be able to be two completely different people. Excellent work Rasma.


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