Diary Of A Cereal Killer

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 01, 2020

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 01, 2020



Numbers Numbers Numbers...

I have a wicked desire, as I awakened from my slumber

Premeditated plots to express my mayhem

I possess an incredible hunger; my distasteful desire must be relieved 

For one of these tasks, it requires a transparent tool similar to a mirror, which I need in order for one of my goals to be achieved 

I hate holes...

Oops I meant Ho's 

Oops I meant to say Cheerios

I can feel chills up my spine as I begin to imagine this infidelity scenario 

People think their actions are not going to catch up with them; that thought in itself is a miracle 

On a fall afternoon, the temperature was mild, the air dry, and the mist limited my visibility 

I waited and as the day progresses it becomes sunny 

I greatly anticipated this moment of revenge against my neighbor for sleeping with my honey

As I entered the neighbors yard, the sound of stepping on his leaves reminded me of Rice Krispies 

Long ago, I warned my neighbor of the dangers of having a yard covered in leaves 

I informed him of the possibility of a brush fire but he did not believe 

His house was surrounded by many trees

With this magnifying glass in hand I heard trickling, crackling, and popping, similar to Rice Krispies 

The discovery of evidence makes a well thought plot very risky 

As the fire trickles, it spreads, it burns 

The flames of the inferno, caused his remains to have a burnt and charred appearance like Cocoa Crispy

No gasoline...

No leads...

Just bones, and a yard full of burnt weeds

Of course arson investigators ruled it as a brush fire, even though it was truly an arson 

My cereal thoughts... I meant my serial thoughts, landed my first victim onto the rear of a milk carton 

Numbers Numbers Numbers...

Once again, I have more Trix up my sleeve 

As I dragged my cheating spouse by her braids and beads 

she lands into a garden full of bees

My once "Honey I am home"

becomes HoneyComb

I drenched her in honey, bees and wasps pierce through her skin, just shy of the bone 

I then departed the garden and entered my house uttering the words "Honey I am home"

but I forgot, I no longer have a spouse; I live alone

Numbers Numbers Numbers...

I became aware of an event that once again activated my distasteful hunger

This next victim is apparently a horemonger 

I affixed his shoes to concrete bricks 

Tossed him into the depths of the sea...

He becomes a delightful dish to a sea full of carnivorous fish

He was found floating adrift 

All that was found was his shoes, or should I say his KIX


more like SERIAL... Good Mourning

I am brainstorming...

Plots are forming...as I am contemplating and planning my next act; I always strike without warning 

Numbers, Numbers, Numbers...

I cant keep up with the amount...

that is the amount of people I have put in boxes; it seems as if I have lost count

When you do wrong, retaliation is an event you must always take into account

My imagination and my killer instincts once again create another heinous miracle 

I have more tricks...

Not Trix, but schemes up my sleeve 

I sit alongside a lake viewing the epic landscape

At a port...

In newsport...

smoking a Newport...

I am enjoying the oceanic breeze, while plotting to serve swift justice upon future victims of infidelity deeds

Who Am I...?

My name is not important but you can say I am Honey Bunches Of Oats... A TOTAL NUTCASE!

But, I am a very smart man because all of my acts always results in a cold case 



© Copyright 2020 K. Wisendanger. All rights reserved.

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