Epilogue Two
The Final Word
This is the story of a man called Arran.
From the day he was born, his future looked barren.
Sold into poverty, violence and despair.
To a family with no morals, no dignity, no care.
Nothing to be proud of,
nothing to gleam.
Just another lad destined for the worker’s machine.
But nature versus nurture is a cruel twist to throw.
To turn his life into a rich man’s show.
Was his life destined to end in the way that it started?
Buried in an unmarked grave, forgotten, departed?
Ripped from a world that wouldn’t mourn his death.
By a brother he’d sworn to protect until his very last breath.
Yet, fate has a funny way of stepping in.
The rain that pours.
The earth that grows thin.
The shallow grave; no fancy coffin.
The power of his kicks as he screams,
“I
won’t
be
locked
in.”
The pain in his chest, but he soldiers through.
He has to escape; he has things to do.
And then mind over matter, he’s clawing his way,
out of a hole that couldn’t hold him on that fateful day.
Muddy and weary, wincing in pain.
He stumbles towards the trees, every footstep a gain.
Because life was giving him a second chance.
The devil was here, and he was ready to dance.
He would bide his time, but he’d have retribution.
He’d take his time to plan their execution.
They thought they’d got rid of him,
but they were wrong.
Had they forgotten who they were dealing with?
Did they know how long
he’d wait until the time was right.
He’d plan it even better than he had that night.
There was a reason he was called S.K.A.M.
and it fitted him well, you’ll find...
S erial
K iller
A rtistic
M astermind
The end. For now...