clex_monkie89 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
clex_monkie89) wrote2006-03-17 01:33 am
clex_monkie89) wrote2006-03-17 01:33 am
Entry tags:
[Fic] (Prison Break) Baker Street Butcher
Title: Baker Street Butcher
Status: Complete
Rating: PG-13
Fandom(s): Prison Break
Characters: T-Bag
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: The cops down in 'Bama didn't even know nothin' was wrong till it was all too late.
The cops down in 'Bama didn't even know nothin' was wrong till it was all too late. He had a thing for kids. They were always so innocent and trusting with their pretty li'l faces and pink, pink lips.
He 'members the first li'l boy, beautiful big blue eyes and a bright red mouth from the lollipop his momma musta gave him. He 'members how the young'un di'n't even pause a breath when he asked him if he wanted to see a dead snake.
He'll always cherish the scream that li'l boy made as his intestine tumbled all out over that nice, clean floor.
January fifth in the year of our lord nineteen hundred and ninety-two some poor unfortunate young woman turned up in Huntsville. And in Madison. And Decatur. And Fort Payne and a few months later someone found her right hand all the way down in Mobile.
February fourteenth of that same year some nice, sweet young man's body was discovered out behind a church up in The City. He 'members how jus' for fun he pulled out young Samuel's heart. When he heard all the fuss them news people were makin' about it he even decided to find another three young men and do just the same t' all them. They called him "The Sweetheart Killer" and put some awful li'l negro boy to death for the murders.
In Birmingham they called him "The Monkey Wrench Bandit," and he still ain't too sure how they came up with that one, "The Lewis Smith Lake Killer," which he always thought was terribly unoriginal, and "The Cottonwood Riper." Those three particular names came from fourteen different boys an' girls couldn't no one ever connect t'gether much less pin on him.
He got himself a whole nigger family down near Butler, nine porch monkeys all in one sittin'. Like fish in a barrel. Ain't none o' them ever got pinned on him neither.
They caught him in down in Montgomery. He knows he got greedy, grabbed himself a whole group of young, pubescent, nubile teenagers near a shopping mall. The oldest boy, who said his name was "Joker" and couldn't a passed for more than nineteen if he went a few days without shavin', asked if he could buy them all some beer. Even offered to give him money. All those trusting li'l children just went on and piled into the back of his van like he was some nice old uncle they done known forever.
When the police found the van he realized he hadn't scrubbed it hard enough and probably should'a just burned the damn thing down. He cut a deal with 'em and got 'em to take both the big, bad Yellow Mama and that pesky needle off the table. They found three of the boys and one of the girls and all they wanted to know was where the other two boys were. So he told 'em.
But he never said a damned word about the other boy and girl that was with them, or that other sweet little girl with the bubblegum lipstick and those cute little cotton panties.
Them people on the news called him all sorts o' names. Pedophile. Rapist. Necrophiliac. Sinner. Murderer. By far his favorite one though was Monster with a capitol em.
When all was said and done they charged him with those six runaways from the mall and suspected him of nearly forty more. They never had a clue about the other sixty-three people and twenty-four mongrels. None o' those include any o' the other incarcerated fellas he's sent on their way either 'course.
Late at night he lays in his cell and just counts the seconds until he's back on the outside again.
He thinks he just might make that boy o' Sink's his first new friend.
Status: Complete
Rating: PG-13
Fandom(s): Prison Break
Characters: T-Bag
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: The cops down in 'Bama didn't even know nothin' was wrong till it was all too late.
The cops down in 'Bama didn't even know nothin' was wrong till it was all too late. He had a thing for kids. They were always so innocent and trusting with their pretty li'l faces and pink, pink lips.
He 'members the first li'l boy, beautiful big blue eyes and a bright red mouth from the lollipop his momma musta gave him. He 'members how the young'un di'n't even pause a breath when he asked him if he wanted to see a dead snake.
He'll always cherish the scream that li'l boy made as his intestine tumbled all out over that nice, clean floor.
January fifth in the year of our lord nineteen hundred and ninety-two some poor unfortunate young woman turned up in Huntsville. And in Madison. And Decatur. And Fort Payne and a few months later someone found her right hand all the way down in Mobile.
February fourteenth of that same year some nice, sweet young man's body was discovered out behind a church up in The City. He 'members how jus' for fun he pulled out young Samuel's heart. When he heard all the fuss them news people were makin' about it he even decided to find another three young men and do just the same t' all them. They called him "The Sweetheart Killer" and put some awful li'l negro boy to death for the murders.
In Birmingham they called him "The Monkey Wrench Bandit," and he still ain't too sure how they came up with that one, "The Lewis Smith Lake Killer," which he always thought was terribly unoriginal, and "The Cottonwood Riper." Those three particular names came from fourteen different boys an' girls couldn't no one ever connect t'gether much less pin on him.
He got himself a whole nigger family down near Butler, nine porch monkeys all in one sittin'. Like fish in a barrel. Ain't none o' them ever got pinned on him neither.
They caught him in down in Montgomery. He knows he got greedy, grabbed himself a whole group of young, pubescent, nubile teenagers near a shopping mall. The oldest boy, who said his name was "Joker" and couldn't a passed for more than nineteen if he went a few days without shavin', asked if he could buy them all some beer. Even offered to give him money. All those trusting li'l children just went on and piled into the back of his van like he was some nice old uncle they done known forever.
When the police found the van he realized he hadn't scrubbed it hard enough and probably should'a just burned the damn thing down. He cut a deal with 'em and got 'em to take both the big, bad Yellow Mama and that pesky needle off the table. They found three of the boys and one of the girls and all they wanted to know was where the other two boys were. So he told 'em.
But he never said a damned word about the other boy and girl that was with them, or that other sweet little girl with the bubblegum lipstick and those cute little cotton panties.
Them people on the news called him all sorts o' names. Pedophile. Rapist. Necrophiliac. Sinner. Murderer. By far his favorite one though was Monster with a capitol em.
When all was said and done they charged him with those six runaways from the mall and suspected him of nearly forty more. They never had a clue about the other sixty-three people and twenty-four mongrels. None o' those include any o' the other incarcerated fellas he's sent on their way either 'course.
Late at night he lays in his cell and just counts the seconds until he's back on the outside again.
He thinks he just might make that boy o' Sink's his first new friend.
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Thank you babe.
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By far his favorite one though was Monster with a capitol em.</i< Oh totally!
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Glad you liked it babe! It was weird writing but it came out just how it should've.
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I'm glad you liked it hon!
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Serial killer names were perfect.
I love how he got caught.
I love the voice you got going for him.
Favourite line is:
He'll always cherish the scream that li'l boy made as his intestine tumbled all out over that nice, clean floor.
The only bit that seems off to me is:
They never had a clue about the other sixty-three people and twenty-four mongrels.
That's a lot of people, which is realistic depending on how long it took him to get so many to his name. Sorry if that's nitpicking. I'm odd about serial killer things.
Adore the fic though.
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Thank you, I have an obsession with serial killers and the names they're given tend to follow a certain pattern.
I love how he got caught.
It's always the little things that trip them up.
I love the voice you got going for him.
Thank you, I actually woke up a couple of times this morning from nightmares because of this.
That's a lot of people, which is realistic depending on how long it took him to get so many to his name. Sorry if that's nitpicking. I'm odd about serial killer things.
Oh don't worry babe I don't mind; I have a thing about serial killers too. When I wrote this those were the first two numbers that came out and I looked at the for a second because it seemed like a lot. Then I realized that I kinda saw him as a bit of a cross between Andrei Chikatilo (52 confirmed kills in 12 years) and Carl Panzram.
I figure he's got a good twenty, twenty-five years on the cops; he got picked up around 40, 41 and by then he had triple digits behind him. I think he didn't really have a specific type of victim but just went after whoever appealed to him at that moment and that because there are so fwe serial killers like that it never even crossed the cops minds that he could have killed that many without them noticing.
Adore the fic though.
Thank you sweetie, I'm glad you liked it!
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Another part that really jumped out at me was the whole section about that poor unfortunate young woman who turned up in Hunstville, and Madison, and Decatur, and so on. Those sentences just flow so beautifully.
Other bits I love are "that pesky needle" and "Monster with a capitol em"
But really I can't list all the parts I love without copy/pasting the whole thing.
You really set the bar high for T-Bag's voice with this one.
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The really weird part about this? Is the fic is completely accidental. I was trying to do a meta and all of a sudden the first three or four lines piled out just like that and I knew where it was headed.
Another part that really jumped out at me was the whole section about that poor unfortunate young woman who turned up in Hunstville, and Madison, and Decatur, and so on. Those sentences just flow so beautifully.
I totally open up Wikipedia to make sure I was leaving a semi-correct trail for that one but yeah, I think that was one of the parts that just had to be done because I could even see T-Bag's posture as he slouched against the wall with that creepy smile on his face while "reminiscing."
Other bits I love are "that pesky needle" and "Monster with a capitol em"
But really I can't list all the parts I love without copy/pasting the whole thing.
That "pesky needle" part is probably my favorite bit right there because it felt so completely and utterly T-Bag that I actually felt kinda dirty.
You really set the bar high for T-Bag's voice with this one.
I take that as such a high compliment because I've enever really written T-Bag before (Except for how he sleeps and a throw-away about how he ain't trusted through locks even) and I really wanted to get his voice right because Robert Knepper has done an amazing job with him.