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"Digit" (For the story telling in verse)

“Alfred Digit” a Summary of his papers passed on to me a month or so ago.
They are taken from the diaries of a school chum I use to know.
I have written these mostly in the third person as it would explain the whole sequence of his later life

"Digit" Pt 1
He tore at the flesh as the screams subsided
the poor fool’s world and his had just collided
A short walk that was all there was to extinction
another flesh crazed attack his mark of distinction

They could never know the fraught way of mind
Just death and carnage he would leave behind
His name to them would be hidden for a time
another city held captive, “They are all mine.”

It is feared that this tormented creature
was the product of some childhood feature.
Where his mind had been bent in a cruel way
as his Father treated him there, to watch him slay

Little creatures torn limb from limb discarded
to be thrown with laughter into the garbage bin
His mind grew, as time passed it was his turn at last
there in the twilight he chose his larger human prey.

He is out there somewhere wandering each day
Then as the evening brings dull shadows light
His urge for torture comes without a fight
There he is off out again in his demented way

The sun has dulled, yet his sharp thoughts want to slay
Following and picking solitude in another today
Creeping, creeping, till shadows start to merge
the agony of his mind just hovering on the verge

Another step and his thoughts running free
A sudden flurry of bodies joined as one to be
Grappling with another bloody lacerated corpse
He smiled as life and death followed his course

Today was different in his dangerous mind
He would take something back just to remind
a finger that would point the way each day
to the next pleasure for him of another to slay

From that day as the police searched high and low
to find the digit, at the slaughterer’s bloody scene.
In the park where the floor was usually green
“Index” a name they were to give this king or queen.

"Ma Digit"

"Madigit" mother of "Digit”

Slovenly creature of the night
Slobbering around her bed all day
too tired to bother with her child
who looked to his father more.

There the unkempt wretch sobbed
Breaking out, shaking in fear
that she would appear in his day
yet knowing there was no chance

He glimpsed her full form one day,
never would that vision go away.
Someone had painted a ball of slime
Sunken eyes done with crying time

There at the top of the stairs
Screaming at him then vicious stares
they would melt frozen lead
the sight stayed and rattled his head

The days dragged into childhood fright
He knew both parents went out each night
then he would play his little games
knowing that his life was not the same

His Father had showed him how to kill
on small creatures without much skill
a dirty way of breaking their little bones
Smashed heads, ripped off legs, his home

Mother didn't kill though her daily toll
was to break men’s souls just for show.
Broken minds cringing from my Mother dear
broken bones that cracked with Fathers fear

He began to love the silence of the night
Where he would try to balance to bad from right
Making the odd model to beat to dust
Parents, neither he knew would care a cuss

This tainted his life and led to this
he goes hunting man with a killing kiss
Gloves he had made of shining steel
Scattering flesh to make him a meal

The hunger for their tortured flesh
Haunted him from a day in a creche
a small boy held his hand out to him
thought it was something to eat poor thing

Never again was he sent out from home
in his bedroom most times all alone
scheming what he would do if free
just raw meat was his to eat you see

Parents you say can't treat children so
just tell that to them, this is all I know
He remembered well lessons taught to him
catch you later for tea, if you are still in

Digit's Holinight (As opposed to Holiday) Pt 2.

"Holinight in Blackpool"

Digit awoke quite late in the day
the lights from the sea front display
had blinked a tune he couldn't stand
damn, it's early yet to roam this land

A steel structure poked at the sky
those damn lights blinked in his eye
Care would be his way, this warm night
to find a place where he could strike

Strange smelling sheets, damp displayed
Hard bed with small side cupboard he'd payed
The summers fee for a place of poverty
It reminded him of the home he had to flee

Catching shadows that crossed his path
He moved out from this dingy room at last
His heart was racing as an engine of steam
where to next, to fulfil this passing dream

A place of fear caught his roving eye
Ghost train structure, he couldn't pass by
Vision's and sounds to feed his hate
a place to strip meat, and fill his plate

With care he would have to enter there
so around the side hidden from view
not having the need to join a queue
what! Digit had never paid for a fare.

A loose board that swung to and fro
His private entrance wherein he did go
the screams fed his mind with false fear
this would change as he performed there.

Flashing lights again was his bane
But now it fed him in this his game
A car shot by with two or more
No let's wait for a single that's for sure

It came out of the dark lit by a spark
There a sturdy youth riding for a lark
His companions bet on how he would fare
Would he wet himself from pure fear

Digit took him full on, with arms wide
flipped him over, onto the boarded side
slashing blades from his home made gloves
tore into the youth with his Fathers love

Sadly he didn't have time to scream
this side of the night’s unfulfilled dream
A finger taken as was his new way
Taunting outsiders to find him in the day

Sliding out from where he had been
He heard the car return, a mighty scream
this made his night seem worthwhile
It reminded him of his Mothers smile

He retreated to the B and B's dingy room
To sleep at peace, it over came him soon
A blackness covered his broken mind
Just seven severed fingers left behind..

Digit at Glastonbury Pt 3.


Digit loved to move to that rock and roll
so off to Somerset to find some he would go
there a festival fit for his favourite, the Queen
Damn he thought the Rolling Stones, a bad dream.

He set up his tent and prepared his day
if everything went well he wouldn't stay.
For a change as this was a gathering fair
He would target a young woman, plenty there.

Searching faces coming in, Oh folly, Oh folly
A young woman alone, with her goods and brolly.
“You look strong can I help you along the track?”
I’ll pitch your tent and help you to unpack

“I will if OK with you pitch your tent over here”
Knowing her short night they would share.
“Thank you very much for help as you can see
First time here and there is only little ole me”

Digit‘s inward smile nearly burst his jaw
His mind was racing at the thought of it all.
His helping hand to her was soon done
Later he smiled; I will be having some fun.

The music blared as the day flew on
some tired old groups trying to sing along.
The place was filling as the evening drew near
the young lady met him, she wanted to share.

“I came here on a whim of fancy”, she cried
“No family to bother me, and never a bride”
Digit said he was the same, his folks all gone
“Let’s just enjoy the music, we sing the same song”

Digit knew that this togetherness would not begin
how could he sort out his need, if feelings crept in?
The evening drew to a close for what only he knew.
He would squeeze her hand and her feelings grew.

Together in his abode they locked in frantic bind
His mind raced he couldn't afford the loving time.
He reached for his weapon selected earlier that day
ended her heaving, dragging her life in a red bouquet.

He removed one finger from her now white hand
He knew the police would not understand.
It could take them month’s to connect the kill
with the one on his holinight up on the Wirral

Late into the moons drop, he packed her things
Left them in his tent, he had fulfilled his dreams
He didn’t look back as he left the scene
a tent was standing where two had been

He had heard of another place close by
Cheddar Gorge and a Cave what a place to die
He headed that way but tarried a while
to think on his actions with a broad smile.

"Digit in Cheddar" Pt 4

Cheddar Gorge

To Digit Glastonbury festival went very well
A soft killing he thought, " Oh what the hell"
While I am here I might as well see
Cheddar Gorge, and what it does for me.

The Gorge a three mile rent in the land
reminded him when with blunt knife in his hand
twisting the cut to even the score
that left his Father writhing on the floor.

Of his mothers demise he could not recall
He heard a sickening thud as she did fall
From his arms he had held her body so
"To my Father" he muttered you must go..

He turned to see as the Gorge came into view
what a beautiful place, to find something new.
A stairway to heaven was there at the side.
Jacobs’s ladder they said but nowhere to hide

A notice that said Gough's Cave caught his eye
A lovely place to be, and a better one to die
He still had some cash from his last ride
So he paid, went inside, and there did hide

What a beautiful place this cave of antiquity
Thousands of years, then he thought, a first to be
Where he could wait and enjoy the scene
Then think of the last breath one would scream.

A disquieting rumble touched his feet and ears
an underground river that ran for many years.
Then visions of dim lit dripping points of light
His memory told him they were Stalagmites.

A group came through close to where he stood.
In dull light he wanted to know if they could
see him there, hidden in a small rocky hollow.
Good it was safe; there was no need to follow

He would wait here for a solitary form to come
to join him and hope they would like his fun
a brave man again just like the Ghost Train
they never learn, it seemed so easy again

But wait he thought as he focused to kill
This is so easy for just ones blood to spill
So he waited and let the brave lad go by
Thinking to double up, letting out a sigh

There in the dimness walking together he did spy
A set of twins that made his mouth run dry
If only I can take them out, it would be a first
Without a doubt, to double up on his insatiable thirst.

He caught them both as they walked arm in arm
He had their throats before they could raise an alarm
stripping them from each other’s childlike grasp
they both choked back without uttering a gasp

He pulled them quietly into his hiding place
Sat them there as two children in disgrace
with their heads hung down onto their chests
He waited a while before their last breaths

More of a gurgle he thought at the time.
He couldn't hang around his scene of crime.
Hurrying on to catch the group that he saw
two fingers and flesh, held, as his trophies he bore.

Digit thought that he had been to keen
to rest a while to remember this dream
He would go to a house by the sea he knew
with the flesh he had, to make a good stew

Digit stayed at his seaside haven for a while
the police were after a killer on the Golden mile
to read of the crimes, he just had to grin
Digit knew they would never capture him.

Digit visits Deadwaters Pt 5

Digit visits Deadwaters

The M74 sleek and black seeming an endless stream
Carried Digit away to a Lanarkshire of others dreams
where people lived far away from all the worries
yet he was boring down on them in wild hurry

A strange man that took such a great joy
in killing, no matter if it was a girl or boy.
A road sign caught his meat hungry eyes
Deadwaters next left, now that hunger to realise.

Days since he was in Cheddar to gorge
Now in the beauty of the country to forge
A name that would put such fear into so many
Once they knew it was him at the drop of a penny.

PC Lewis was watching the morning’s news
Put two things together nearly blew a fuse
Sergeant we have a problem that’s for sure
This killer has struck several times before

Digit totally unaware of what was said there
He slowed to take in the scenes without a care
He just turned off the motorway that day
The B7086 beckoned his hungry killing way

Boghead passed by his field of view
Lucky people there if only they knew
It would take a few days for them to hear
Who had passed their way without a care.

Digit slowed as a small sign appeared
Deadwaters his crazed mind uttered a cheer
Slowly, Slowly, catch a monkey, crossed his rage
Held like a wild creature pacing madly in a cage.

An unusual sane thought was felt for a change
Wait till it’s darker for you to wander this range
a new feast would arrive as it had done before
Parked a little way off the road is safer for sure

Donning the dark clothes that had served him well
He stepped out into the night of someone’s hell
the shadows closed around him like a delicate cloak
His was the night of another’s their blood to soak.

He spied the lights coming on in the houses there
He just walked up to the first house without a care
Knocking gently on the bespoke Oak door
Waiting, waiting could he take any more

The hall light came on in the window small
a slight creature was walking up to the door
the lady of the house that was for sure
Opening the portal wanting her blood to pour

Poor creature didn't have time to ask a name
Digit’s homemade gloves knew the game
He heard his Mother there stifling a scream
His deranged mind knew it wasn't a game

Speed was of the essence now the poor girl
He let her slip away, his mind in a whirl
Draped over his shoulder she joined in the thrill
Soon to satisfy this, the sixth of his frenzied kills

Walking back to his car he had left the door ajar
Saving time as he would flee fast and away so far
Blackwood seem to impress on his demented mind
A place among trees that would be hard to find

Digit rested a while before the body he despoiled
Left the creature there though, for his feast he toiled
then the trophy of his nights work he would gain
The finger that held a ring was his to retain.

Six was his total number of trophies now
A stupid thought came to his ragged mind somehow
After the next two fingers he would maybe stop,
Eight the number for two hands he would have clocked.

He journeyed south again to rest by his beloved sea
Walking the sand and watching waves made him free
He covered his tracks car gone nothing to see
The only trace, six fingers in a jar, and stew for tea.

Brunel's Bridge (Digit Pt 6)

Digit left the Scottish low lands with much haste
The South West was calling, he increased his pace
Bristol area there where many interests abound
He will be able to move freely and not be found

There in the old docks he saw SS Great Britain
a thing of beauty that brought him to thinking
a man of engineering fame, just need to say his name
Brunel seemed to ring a bell, and his rise to fame

This made Digit think of other places to be
He wandered off; a suspension bridge to see
this took him across a river that journeyed on
where many a suicide dropped to the lovely Avon

Digit started to need, his mind set for a new kill
He wandered from the bridge to the top of a hill.
He spied a domed building there that said observatory,
Just the place he thought to find a victim for misery.

He paid the dull man at the door walked on to the floor
There a round table in shaded light, showed him more.
A panorama of outside, people unaware, that he was there
on the table his victim would appear and draw near.

In the room was a cave entrance a place to hide
He looked to see where it went, being so dark inside
It led to a balcony holding on to the cliff face
A view of the bridge, where death would take place.

Digit smiled and thought he would wait awhile
His thirst for death, to his face brought a smile
He sensed a presence before he saw her there.
A student brushed his side, smiling without care.

That made him snap, and her longish neck too
It was such a short moment and it was through
Digit realised that he was trapped at this time
A tunnel, a corpse, there just a cliff left to climb.

He sorted the problem with the sweep of his hand
tipping her body over the edge just felt grand
He retreated to the round tabled picture room
He knew in his heart she would be missed soon.

Slowly without making a fuss he left the scene
flew away as if he had just fulfilled a dream
smiling that he had completed his seventh kill
a blood mark on his pocket gave him a thrill.

Therein he knew that a trophy was safe
Number seven painted a smile on his face
He returned to his safe seaside retreat
He hadn't had time to collect more meat

Next day as the news was read to the world,
He thought of the girl who flew like a bird.
That another had jumped down the cliff wall
Strange that she lost a finger in the fall

Digit smiled, he was so pleased to be alive
the fingers on which he now would thrive
A new day dawned making him feel so free
As he walked the beach, by the edge of his sea.

Digit Goes to London (Pt 7)

There was a severe storm around Digits bay
Digit tried to walk his beach the same way
His anger grew as there was seaweed strewn
over his thoughtful ways, by the restless waves

His anger grew as the sun grew warm
His killing had waited far too long
Days had fallen into a week or so
He would have to satiate his restless soul

Think damn it where should he go
then a smile on his face was seen
He would go to London to see the queen
there he could kill two birds with no stones

He returned to his house with haste
At last a target put a smile on his face
Whitechapel from stories of old
a ripper took many lives or so it’s told

We will not be a copycat his mind did race
Something modern to take its place
A room with a view that went on high
Oh joy he thought the London eye.

With control of his ways as usual
He knew the things he would do
catch a train it is less seen than a car
it would not tire him to travel so far

The green countryside rolled by
Digit kept thinking of the eye
Where to find a target so
there were many places to go

Kinks cross brought him back to life
checked his bag for his best knife
now underground he must travel
a ticket to buy a show to unravel

Digit smiled and thought which show?
A young Bard in Canada he did know
To the Globe he’d seek Shakespeare’s scene
to turn his friend that envy green

He caught the matinee productions story
It pleased him that the thoughts were gory
The “Merchant of Venice” was the show,
The pound of flesh made him glow.

The end was not what he would like.
No blood to make his mind spike.
Still the Merchants thought was there
as he made his way out it was so clear

A need for blood was uppermost in his head
No matter how many were left for dead
He was shaking as a new train was taken
Tower of London dwelt with the forsaken.

Not only peasants were mutilated there
Kings and queens also they did fear
that this place held a feel of death
So much so it took his breath

Where better could Digit feed his mind?
Terror in other places he’d find
Whitechapel and its ripper’s greed
He also on young woman did feed

A grand thought entered digits way
Madame Tussauds is where he would play
Careful he was so not to show his track,
walking the streets never looking back

Baker Street so many things it had seen
Of Holmes and Watson, fictions dream
there in that street a place to curdle blood
the chamber of horrors that no one loved

They say a wax works that brings a chill.
Digit smiled this is the place to kill
All fancy people from times gone by
Walking through they caught his eye

That nasty chamber was his goal today
Here he would prepare a morsel to slay
He nearly laughed at the killers he saw
none could ever match his gall.

Perfection was presented to his open lids
A table with corpse being dissected
Digit was so intent on this scene
He didn't read the name of who it had been.

Hiding in the darkened place
He waited there for the perfect face
One to near match the slaughtered girl
His knife and gloves from rap unfurled

He sheltered the gleam of the blades
as he waited in the dark for the maid
Here he found a problem now
they were all accompanied somehow

His anger blazed as he figured what to do
He would now have to kill another two
Soon there in the shadows he could see
A girl and boy so in love, holding tightly

Unusual for Digit, he killed both swiftly,
one sweep of his arm, no sound, no pity
Pulling both quickly behind the scenery
He carried out his frantic butchery

The boy was left alone in forever’s cold grip
the girl was snatched, as in death she slipped
a finger removed to complete his set
then a pound of flesh as the merchant bet

Digit smiled as he did the ultimate crime,
changed the scenes body for hers just in time
As the next voyeurs hove into his happy view
He was thinking of his next plate of stew.

Back to the underground he found his way,
back home he hurried before the new day.
Eight fingers in a jar to please his mind
His head throbbed, muttering he’d have to find.
Two thumbs to satisfy his racing thoughts,
never thinking that he could be caught.

"Digit goes to Wales" (pt 8)

Digit rested watching waves one by one
On his beach, where most of his time did run
Spending hours talking to his other self inane
Pleading, that they would become one again

A noise he hated, that of a screaming child.
It reached into his ears, sending him wild.
How could they come and desecrate his beach
Here he thought that he was out of reach.

His anger threw him into his home
then that hidden thought that he had to roam.
To seek out more food, a thumb and tasty glands
it was time to complete at least one, of the hands

His thoughts went out to a distant place
where he had never shown his face
His thinking the same as we have seen before
It took him to the Welsh valley’s floor.

It was morning time as he wended his way
the thought of the evening made his day
a road that stretched out mile, on mile.
With strange named places made him smile

The Sugar Loaf a hill was a place so new
He laughed as these passed across his view
where the river there seemed to flow up hill
His mouth watered as he thought of his kill

Just further on and with a strange sober mind
Rock of Ages a place of a religious kind
He beamed a great smile that he had paused
that rock on the roadside they said God caused

His ways returned to the point of the day
to find a place where he could slay
the valley to the left was no good for his spree
it was straddled by a steel works, all he could see.

There in his view came a place of funny name
Pontylottyn or something they all looked the same
He turned into this valley etched by the ice of old
searching for a point to make them stories to be told

He needed a place that would be secure
where he could kill and escape for sure
High on the hill a narrow road made its way
A beacon there would be a grand place to play.

No houses had been built this far up the hill
He would return to the valley to select his kill.
The evening’s dark cloak sheltered his form
one would wish they had never been born

Noisy singing and young ones having fun
they didn't know that Digit’s work had begun
He saw her walking toward him without a care.
This Lilly of the valley with him would share.

He spoke to her in soft voice that carried love
Learned from his Father, who he had sent above
the wiles of his Mother came into his play
a soft target for Digit as she joined his way

Two drinks in the darkest part of the bar
He had her fetch them, as it was not that far
So that people there would only see her face
they wouldn’t remember Digit in this place

They talked a while and confidence was won
He talked of life even invented a sick son
Then a wife so young that was taken one day
By an illness he couldn't pronounce anyway

As he told her this a tear trickled down
He knew he had her, she would lead him around
I hear you have one of those beacons here
was it lit to give Her Majesty a cheer?

She danced at the end of his enticing will
Yes she said it’s by there, at the top of the hill
Would it be too much to ask something of you?
Will you show me where, I would love to see the view?

Megan rose walking with him without a care
a death in a beacon they would both share
The light was fading as they reached the hill
Digit struck her once making her heart still.

He could butcher for a while he felt a thrill
I don’t know what stopped him at his kill.
He turned smiling taking two pieces of the girl
a thumb, and the merchants spoils, his head whirled.

Digit thought a body that was not all there
what can I do with the rest, after his share?
What is a beacon for to light a fire that’s the catch?
From his car he took a can, petrol and one red match

Petrol splashed all over the girls remains there.
A fuse he made on the grass with great care
a track of fuel that led to his waiting car
it was lit; he left speeding off to places afar

A single lane of that twisting road
No one would notice as it was told
the place where the castle tower leans
Digit was gone while others dreamed.

The sea washed over his feet again
Home where thoughts followed a train
where a sort of sanity was recalled
His hate subsided into a quiet gall

Digit's Death? (Pt 9)

Dead Digit?

Where to now to bring terror my friend
to fetch some flesh and a thumb to end
my trail of hate for the way my parents were
A Mother whore, a Father who was like a cur.

I am tired he thought as he left South Wales
across the country again to London’s Scales
they were supposed to deal out justice fair
yet my childhood was hidden, I just didn't care.

Here he could find the universe in one place
Millions of visitors, a few deaths, no disgrace
No thought of the waxworks and the two killed
He had butchered those two and was so thrilled

Where today that I can go to view it all
Ah! The London Eye would be his next call
a ferry from the Tower of London’s side
where shall I meet my next deaths bride?

Wait I have just spied a haven by the bridge
His muddled brain saw the water’s edge
where the queens to their deaths were taken
He thought great to die here with the forsaken

He left the cruise at the very next drop
Walked along the embankment to that first stop
in the dark with water lapping that hidden gate
His hunger for death of another, he’d satiate

His mind now raced as time passed by
He saw the full face with his Mothers Eyes
and after his Fathers twisted slaking
would make the next, better for the taking

He heard a sweet voice that sang low
it seemed trying to ward of any evil soul
But Digit knew in those shadows deep
it was time for this maid to eternal sleep.

Not many times but once in a while
Digit thought about a kill without a smile
He’d make this one as quick as he could
Such a sweet voice he just understood

His blade whistled a different tune
the woman’s voice was stopped so soon
there was haste to finish his task tonight
No time to waste at being polite.

Three cuts with his blade so true
Two thumbs were severed and flesh for stew.
Then tipping the body over the side
to let the Thames take it out with the tide

Digit was thinking of things different way
He would return to his place by the sea today
As he was returning with his trophies to his domain,
Did he slip off the platform, to fall under a train?

All the fingers of a body where crushed to pulp
A sight that would make a strong man gulp
It was strange the man said what he found by the dead
Talking low, there were three thumbs, beside its head

The early paper, told it first thing next day
Ran a story about him and all it could say
that a poor man had died a horrible death
Slipped under a holiday train at Burnham on Sea

They told the story of a very puzzled man
Well you try to believe it if you can.
Some time passed before the puzzle was solved
A policeman in Oxford, the evidence trolled

He said that he was on the trail of a killer
that had taken things like flesh and a finger.
It was found that what he said was so right
a dead Digit now we could all sleep at night

But wait a while don’t you start to smile
The last victim was missing two thumbs
Only one extra was found on the same ground
As the supposed Digit, so mangled they found.

There on a beach not so far away
You will find new footprints each day
The smell of long pig pollutes the air
So if you are going out take great care.

Digit in Edinburgh (Pt 10)

Digit thought it’s August, to go where it was cool.
Where people are friendly, a place to use his new tool.
All the world was warm, Edinburgh, the place of his birth
Opened their hearts to their kin, for what it was worth.

Many stories of old body stealer's, and hidden vaults
Dark ages where many in blood and plague were soaked
Yet the city still retained within it’s Granite walls
Many secrets of kings, and of beautiful queens downfalls

Those legendary pair who didn't share their meat
They have no option now that I am here at Bruce’s seat
Names that we remembered, Burke and Hare, stupid pair
Did they know that their body stealing was unfair?

Let Digit show their ghosts a new thing or two
How I can kill better, they only dead bodies knew
Then to carve a joint, for essence of pork to smell
How I will send another girl or boy to a bloody hell.

This his mind would turn round and round
Here on his Mothers and Fathers rotting ground
Their memory brought a maddened gleam to his eyes
Faces flashed past his memory, then their lies.

Did the screaming face of her never stop?
Or the Father with his shredding bloody strop.
I feel it now my skin burns where he would hit me
The ranting of Mothers words buzzing like a bee.

I will find more souls to let them know the score.
Better me, than to let them suffer for ever more
I know them each and everyone who crosses my path
They will scream, and then be at peace to quell my wrath.

The caves at the Rowan Tree, good place to go,
People are gawking at, where others had suffered so.
I shall wait for them in the hidden places
I am there for them and their death mask faces

Their minds must be sick if they get any thrill
Of muted death of many here, that were so ill
The plague killed, and then poverty took its toll
Not a place to go, just for a curiosity show.

I Digit will show them a worthy death
Sliced blood carriers, then I claim their breath
Those looks of fear, instant, floats on the eyes
Fading as the setting sun as they realise

Then I claim my trophy of their demise
Not sure if to take a toe this time, their dead eyes
Toes will take more time for me to gain
Though dead Eyes will never be the same

This place here underground is such a treat
It will give me more time to attack the feet.
A group of ghost hunters are heaven sent to me
A scream or two will set one or two so free.

Shush! I have to concentrate before it’s too late
This is a lovely place to decide their gory fate
Two stragglers from the parties group
A piece of one to make my special soup

The other, open toed shoes, a trophy to gain
Edinburgh’s underworld, will never be the same
Digit gathered his form his new knife he bore.
It sliced two humans they fell, they were no more.

Digit worked his parent’s smiles to even the score.
Of a life of hate they grew within him more
A toe from the open shoe was added to his Pocket
The other, a slice of flesh, and a once loved locket

The locket was a new thing for him to do
He remembered his Mother, she had one to.
Digit fled the scene, well all that he could see
He knew in his mind that he had set two more free

Taking the train back to his beloved home
He had a look at the locket now that he was all alone
There in sepia’s sheen, a grand lady and man was seen.
Why now? He cursed at what his grandparents had been.

Tears rolled from his death seeking eyes
Stupid me he thought as he realised
That once he had a life of laughter and good days.
This hate of his parents had twisted his ways.

Home once more he rushed in the door
A different rage took him by the hand
His trophies he gathered one toe, two hands
He rushed out to where the sea touched his sand

No one heard him scream their names
As he threw his ill gotten now rotting gains
Into the waves as they brushed his feet
He returned to his home to cook some meat..

Late Alfred Digit (Pt 11)

I received a large registered letter today
It was strange as it came from far away
It was from some unrecognised attorney
It said contact him, as it would benefit me

They were sorry about the delay from them
The information was from way back when
At school in my sixth form years I had a friend
I was kind to him, and to him did money lend

He said I told him that it mattered not about repay
It wasn't that much I gave him that cold day
Yet here a letter he had left for me in neat hand
About that day and how he thought it so grand

He related how his childhood had been back then
The beatings, rows, the hate thrown at the children
It took a time for me to recall his name, and face
I always knew his treatment was a total disgrace.

Bruises, cuts and broken limbs, and things not seen
These were day to day normal life's things to him
I would talk to him most days, how my day had been
I felt useless in those childhood days as we played.

It took me a few days to organise the trip to his town
There in a grand room and comfy chair I settled down
In came the attorney with papers held under his arm
He treated me as if I was a lord with much charm

Are you Jack Sparrow originally of Burnham on Sea
I replied yes that is me and where I use to be.
Your friend Alfred Digit, late of Sea View Cottage there
He said in sorrowful words that didn't seem so clear.

I am sorry to say, that he passed away on the fourth of May
He was admitted to hospital there, after being hurt at the fair
I am sorry it took us so long to find you, and let you know
He was a secretive man, it is only now his papers are just so.

He left you all of his things, for being good to him.
All his life after, he would always remember that pound.
Though his life was bad, it was the only bit of kindness he had,
In his life of hurt and misery inherited from his Mum and Dad

I felt such emotion on hearing that one deed from me
Was the only good thing, he felt in his whole life to be?
Sea View Cottage, insurance a bounty, cars numbering three
I just sat back in disbelief at hearing the list of things.

At the end of our meeting the Attorney said to me
There is one extra letter that is here for you to see
I took it from his hand; it felt so heavy the writing great
I left, returned to the hotel room stayed at for this meet.

I opened the letter in the light of the day streaming through
Now you can understand what it said, as I have related it to you
I cried that all this killing had taken place from a child I knew
I just thought that after the authorities, I would relate to you.

As I didn't need Alfred's money I gave it to a good cause
That would look after children who had a bad start in life.
The cottage was sold as a holiday home to ones that didn't know
The money built a sanctuary where ill treated children could go

I hope that out that no more Digits flare up from humanity.
Though in this day and age is a thing I cannot in truth see.
I hope that now we cannot change the past for something good
The things he did not condoned though I hope understood.

Yours J Sparrow

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
I will take out Cata to work on the structure of the piece and return it later, Meanwhile this is a new one only sort of completed the other day with lots of mistakes in, Happy reading Y'all
Editing stage: 


To a killer's spree. There seems to be alot of passing away these days....finding the energy to wake Nevermore. I haven't been.concerned with structure these days. Felt I simply needed to put emotion to paper.Changes can be made later. Did you see my latest? More of an obituary. I know it needs revisions but the amount of emotionIis great, if I.can do it without crying..might turn out ok

Keep Writing,

"Quoth said the Raven, NEVERMORE"

It's still not absolutely clear if it was Digit that was mangled at the fair though they have given Sparrow all his belongings, I don't trust them in their saying it was him..
Look young lady if writing makes you cry you just go ahead and write it is one of the emotions that creeps in sometimes.
Me being a silly ole Fa.. I don't have tear ducts I have aquaducts as far as emotions and crying goes lol.
Thanks for your visit I put Digit into one piece for the workshop of Wesley's..
Take care now and know that we care, Yours Ian, and Friends

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

author comment

detect a possible resurrection for Digit? Nevermore is anxiously awaiting to hear. I don't cry easy or often. When I do it is usually alone. I know this is a workshop site and I do want to write better, just not today. you know what I mean

Keep Writing,

"Quoth said the Raven, NEVERMORE"

I haven't been told of anything new on the Digit front, Sparrow was wandering around muttering about having to buy an air ticket for one of his old friends the other day, apart from that he wouldn't say who lol. The only thing he did say was he had always wanted to go to Toronto, I wonder if his friend has gone there????
Thanks for your visit and you just keep in there, If digit has gone State side then all hell may be about to happen, I am glad I live this side of the pond..
Yours Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

author comment

I am hanging in there. Nevermore is waiting in the wings, rather impatiently but I am not ready to let her out just yet. That would be interesting if Digit ever came to the states. I would say that I could use him to off a few people but I have my own killer for that. She is just waiting for the word....

Keep Writing,

"Quoth said the Raven, NEVERMORE"

I have read it all but I think something this large should be read a couple of times it really is a lot to take in, I cant pick favourite lines there are so many, but I have to say its a huge undertaking to write something so long and I know its not easy I have been writing a canta for the last couple of years I wont tell you how long it is lol I go over it every few weeks and make corrections and add or change lines and then I usually add to it

thanks for pointing the way I enjoyed the read I will be back another day to reread it really deserves to be read more than once, there were a few lines that could do with a tidy up but with something this long that's to be expected I am sure this is something that you will do more work on its got good content

was any of this true ?

love always JC xxx

("Always and Forever") - (Never lose a holy curiosity.-Albert Einstein)

All of the places visited like Glastonbury, Cheddar Gorge, etc:are real it gave the story an interest if you look up those places, even the Rock of Ages place, and the beacon on top of the hill are there as I did live very near that place in Wales UK.
All the killing and those nasty things well I will have to ask Digit should he not be dead, there is still a question as to who was found dead at that Fairground. Ha Ha
Thanks for your read and lovely comment, as the Police have stopped looking for the serial killer, well they never were very good at things this bad,
Worries me a little when I had a postcard from Norfolk Island the other day signed Alfred and how his holiday in Micronesia was going fine but that he needed some exercise and was moving on to Australia, if that is true just take extra care out there you knbow we are thinking of you always, Yours Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

author comment
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