The Great Fire of Samhain

Gold leaves crunch like bones, I pace.
A tiny skeleton makes a face.
I throw the little girl a smirk.
It’s frowned on to be late for work.

‘American thing ⸺ it’s obscene!’
A colleague moans in to his tea.
My blood simmering to broil,
‘It’s not A⸺’, no, I must uncoil.

‘Tell me, when instead we burn
that Guy onto a fire infern?’
‘That “Guy”?’ he almost spits and flails.
So sad, I enjoy the detail.

Afternoon lull, my work not done.
He works ’til seven, last one home.
Hand-dryer ⸺ check. I crawl inside.
Now for only time to bide.

Outside is dark. I strobe the lights.
This helps make what comes next seem right.
Our mark now busy at the sink,
Hits the button ⸺ two worlds link!

A torrent of my tiny bats,
And darkness, oh so cold unwrapped!
His little feet go pap pap pap
right out the door towards my trap.

Oh London City never change!
Your narrow empty streets betray
With medieval airs bewitched
So many ways to come unstitched.

Pap pap pap on Fenchurch Street
A slimy tongue his neck does greet.
Frantic paps down Pudding Lane
On which so many souls I claimed.

Those frantic cries just now he hears!
Forever screaming on deaf ears.
And from a drain my cold dead hands
onto his puny feet they land.

Our friend determined to outsmart,
On cue towards a doorway darts.
A flaming beam above caves in
as tortured souls embrace his skin.

Footnotes:
- Bonfire Night is a festival in England on 5 November,
  about a week after Halloween, when an effigy of Guy Fawkes
  is burned upon bonfires in many neighbourhoods.
- The Great Fire of London in 1666 began at Pudding Lane.