Act One

Opening the curtain on act one,

Sand covers the center stage and the backdrop is drenched in greys
And mid sits a dining chair laced in a thick plastic case.
And here is where we see the victim bounded from head to toe
But her mouth left retreating so she can squawk akin to a crow.

And out peeked from behind red curtains a beak round and flared
And not a sight of a human's face was shown just odd strands of hair.
This creatures moments were strange approaching the seated girl.
He said “I hope you can stand the sight of blood, we wouldn't want you to hurl.”

Slipped from the covers a knife so clean it shined,
“Oh but hush little girly, this is not you acted but mine.”
He poked and he prodded but yet to leave a mark until he cut and he dug so deep;
Deep enough to leave scars.

But this is not how it ended, it couldn't be this short, he sat as she “sang” in pain. He sat there sharpening his blade till he finally took position on center stage.

Tis’ mustn't hurt much it is simply death,
It mustn't hurt much; ramming the knife into her chest.