The feast was over, the diners filled,
When abruptly they keeled over and their innards spilled,
Unto an immaculate floor, courtesy was disabled,
Spewing their filth upon white walls and cluttered tables.
In a sudden realization of what had been done,
They discarded all valuables as they turned to run,
Only to discover the exits to be blocked,
Every crevice, window and door, barred and locked.
Petrified, the befouled guests sought out their charming host,
There He was, glass raised, about to give the evening's toast,
Bellies clutched as they collapsed into a sea of sweat,
Gaping at their frail pale friend, a foe never before had they met.
Weakened murmurs weaved through the majestic hall,
As the terror of recognition descended upon them all,
Then with a last shred of indignation, the Mayor declared:
"What in the bloody hell is going on here?"
"Hell it would seem, is a most appropriate word"
Said the host of the evening in a voice barely heard,
Not one of you have nightmares of the bloody wreckages left behind,
Manipulating and exterminating, all your friendships were well timed,
When I walked into your lives,you drunk deeply of mine,
You took and you took, I cooked and you dined,
But tonight is the night, you will hear the forgotten voices sing;
Of the ghost who hosted the deadliest dinner and made hell's bells ring.