Halloween Helliteration

It was raining reluctantly on this retreating night,
as the moon met the clouds with a meaningful glare.
The children were chuckling as they ate their candy,
and adults, with their apathy, were unknowingly unaware.

At first, no one was frightened, before the fire burned with force,
before the screaming and the shocking shrills of sacrilege.
But no one imagined an irreversible rendering of illness,
such as this dooming deviant of damage.

He was a beast, no less, because beneath his breast,
his breathing boomed with a thud.
As he thrashed towards the tree-line, he tackled a toddler,
and made a monstrous mess consisting of blood-clouded mud.

Shivers spun through the streets like a spider's web,
like a carefully crafted thorn of craze.
The gossiping gasps by gracious bystanders grew,
as tales of murder only contributed to the malicious maze.

The theory is that tragedy entrails
every Thursday night trick or treat.
If you see the flame, you'll know to be frightened,
for the ferocious freak is determined to eat.

In case you reminisce, do not run;
there's no shame in staying inside.
Before you jest, just remember the toddler,
that was turned into a Halloween treat and died.