Murderous Swine

Honorable Mention in the May round of the Twisted Tales Contest





Aaron Carver was a driven man. While he had to get as far away from Dallas as quickly as possible, his highest priority was keeping his whereabouts secret from his former employers. To this end, he refused to drive on the Interstates and he would not be traveling toward his home state in the northeast as he would be expected to do. Instead, he was traversing the continent in a westerly direction on two lane roads.

The west Texas desert was brutal this time of year. With the outside temperatures well in excess of 102 degrees, even the lizards were getting heat stroke. If he broke down in this wasteland, he’d surely be dead within a very short time. When he considered this, he decided that would probably be the lesser of two evils, knowing what his associates would do to him. He’d rather end up a skeleton under some cactus than in some landfill, surrounded by others like him, who’d double crossed the organization.

He retrieved his bottle of water from the cup holder, took a long drink and replaced the bottle. Even with the air conditioning running on maximum, he was still warm. Outside in the cloudless sky, the mid-day Sun’s sustained attack upon the Earth was relentless. Heat waves rose high into the air from the hot asphalt. The melting blacktop appear to be covered over by a lake of shimmering water. It was only a mirage though, and Aaron knew it. Still, he needed to stop and rest for a while, but he couldn’t do it here. If he turned off his engine, he would bake inside his car. If he got out, he would fry on the side of the road. He thought about poor Leonard, wondering how his corpse was tolerating his new surroundings and how the organization was tolerating the loss of so much money.

On a small rise, a large cactus cast a sliver of a shadow onto

the shoulder of the road. He pulled his car onto the side of the road and stopped with the scant shade covering his face through the windshield. A cloud of dust engulfed him from behind after being churned up by his tires. . The billowing mass of dirt lingered for several seconds before it began to settle and drift away in front of an almost non-existent breeze. When it cleared, he stepped out onto the sandy ground, stood within the solitary shadow and looked around.

He imagined this was that famous place everyone referred to when they mentioned the middle of nowhere. Just ahead of him and down the slope he could make out a lonely intersection which probably hadn’t seen another car in days, maybe even weeks. The road to the north looked to meander up into the hills. To the west and the south, the dirty gray asphalt line seemed to stretch out without obstruction until it terminated against the far edges of the sky. There were no buildings anywhere to be seen in any direction, except for a small abandoned roadside produce stand which was falling down.

He reached into his car, took out the bottle of water and took another long drink. He used his shirt sleeve against the sweat that ran down his face. He wondered which way he should go. Which was the right way? He decided he would have to wait for some kind of a sign. This thought made him laugh. If only there’d been a sign telling him where he’d be safe, it would make things so much easier. The relatively cool air from the car’s interior reached out through the open door and touched his arm, beckoning him to get back in. He slid behind the wheel and closed the door. He drove to the intersection and stopped again in front of the dilapidated fruit stand. Nothing had changed since he’d seen it from the top of the rise, only now he could see a lone traffic signal suspended over the center of the intersection, which was as dead as the rest of the landscape.

Three days earlier, he’d made the most important decision of his life, relieving Leonard of his life and leaving his job as a member of the organization to begin a new life somewhere else, with someone else’s money, where nobody knew who, or what, he really was. That choice had been easy compared to this one. Right here, right now, he had to decide which road would decide his future, which had the potential of being very grim if he made a wrong choice.

It was fifteen minutes and two bottles of water later when the sign came. A large bird, unlike anything he’d ever seen before, landed on the traffic signal, causing the cable supporting it to sag, and looked in his direction. On closer examination, he decided it looked like a cross between a crow and a hawk, but was the size of an eagle. It appeared to look straight at him and blinked its black eyes several times. A chill ran through Aaron. The bird leapt ponderously into the air, dipped for a few seconds gathering sufficient air beneath his unwieldy wings to stay aloft. After achieving flight, it flew off to the north, toward the hills. Aaron watched him go. Something about that creature just didn’t seem right.

The bird circled around and a little voice inside Aaron told him he should start his engine and follow the beast. When he pulled out onto the road, he took up a position to the rear of his guide in preparation for their trek across the desert. The terrain was not as flat and the road not as straight as they had appeared from the higher elevation. There were numerous dips and small valleys, some of which he wondered if he’d get out of. The curves and switchbacks made him wonder if he wasn’t just going around in circles. Strong gusts of wind threatened to blow him off into the deep ditches on either side of the cracked and neglected road. He was seriously questioning his decision to take this road, but didn’t attempt to turn around. Every time he’d stop, the thing he was following would turn and circle overhead. Aaron got the distinct impression that if he did turn around, he would be devoured from above.

Eventually, a tree lined hill came into view. He sighed with relief. The road straightened out and he started up a gentle grade

into what appeared to be a paradise compared to where he’d been driving all day. Instead of bland emptiness, there were trees, bushes and grass.

Mile after mile, Aaron tagged along behind his feathered escort. Just past a narrow gorge with high rock walls, he saw a small town sitting lonely in the valley below. On the side of the road was an old sign that read Eerie, Pop. 181.

He pulled his car over onto the shoulder by the sign and stopped. He got out of the car and stood beside it looking down at the small clump of buildings. The breeze here was cool against his skin. The large bird let out a loud cry above him and then dove down and settled on a rock across the road from the car. It watched him intently for a few moments and then turned its head toward civilization and let out another cry.

“Yeah, I see it,” Aaron told the bird.

With that statement, the bird took off and flew high into the sky, disappearing into the distance.

Aaron got back into his car and drove down the steep grade. At the edge of town, he stopped and surveyed the street ahead of him. It was filled with a mixture of small businesses and boarded up store fronts. A few cars were parked here and there and there was one man sitting in a chair on the sidewalk. The main street, like the road above, had been neglected and had potholes scattered about. As he drove slowly down the main street, it reminded him of a setting in a low budget horror movie. The only things missing were the girl in pigtails, whose shirt would be tied around her midriff below her excessively large breasts and above her too tight shorts and an old man in bib overalls, carrying a shotgun and spitting tobacco.

At the far end of town, he parked in the shade of an old building and began walking back through town. He moved slowly, looking around, hoping to find something redeeming about the place. He didn’t find anything. He smiled. This would be the perfect place to lay low for a time. Maybe a long time, while things cooled down and they quit looking for him.

Halfway down the street, he came to the old man sitting in a wooden chair in front of an old bank that was closed. He seemed to be staring across the street at a vacant building. Aaron sat down beside him. His new companion didn’t so much as glance in his direction.

“Get many strangers around here?” Aaron asked.

“Nope. Last one was a half year ago.”

Aaron smiled to himself. If that wasn’t enough for him, he considered building across the street to be an additional omen. The old butcher shop was boarded up and sported a faded For Sale sign. His father had been a butcher his whole life and when Aaron had been a boy, his father taught him how to cut meat, hoping he would follow in his footsteps. He got up from his chair and wandered across the street to peek in the windows.

He couldn’t see anything through the dirt and grime that covered all the panes. Rubbing it with his fingers didn’t do much good, so he took out a handkerchief and spit on it. When he rubbed the glass with the moist cloth, enough of the dirt wiped away so he could see inside. All the old equipment was still in place. Satisfied, he re-crossed the street and sat next to the town resident once more.

“Who would I see about buying the butcher shop?” Aaron asked.

“I’d talk to Bob down at the bar if I was you. He owns it.”

“And where would I find this bar?”

“Down the street where you come from.”

“Could you be a bit more specific?”

“Nope.”

Aaron didn’t bother to thank the man. He just stood and started down the street the way he’d come. There was no sign hanging outside and no name painted on the front window. The only way he found the place was a small wooden sign with the

name The Eerie Place Bar hanging on an old wooden door. He

stepped from the bright sun into almost complete darkness. He sat at a table next to the door until his eyes grew accustomed to the dim light.

Once he could make his way between the tables without tripping or falling over chairs, he made his way to the bar. Two people sat at the bar drinking while a tall skinny man who hadn’t shaved in a few days kept their glasses full. On the wall behind the bar was an old shaggy buffalo head with one horn. A sign hanging from it read Please ring the bell for service…The horn don’t work. Everywhere else on the walls were photographs of what Aaron could only assumed was the local community back when it had been prosperous. When he sat at the bar, nobody paid any attention to him.

I’d have named the town weird instead of Eerie, he thought.

“Could I get a beer?” he asked.

Without a word, the bartender took a bottle out of the cooler, opened it and put it in front of him.

“Only brand we got,” the bartender said and then walked a few feet away.

“Is Bob around?”

“I’m Bob,” the bartender answered.

“Guy down the street said you owned the old butcher shop. I’m interested in buying it.”

“Not for sale.”

“The sign on the door says it is.”

“Only to someone who lives here. Strangers are too much trouble.”

“I’ll pay you twice what you’re asking for it.”

“What do you want with that old place?”

“Well, I’m running away from my old life in the big city and I used to be a butcher, so this would be a great opportunity for me.”

“Ain’t no opportunities around here,” Bob said.

“There’s enough for me.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You don’t want to buy it,” one of the other men at the bar said.

“Why not?”

“Last guy that owned it just mysteriously disappeared one night.”

“Maybe he just decided to leave town.”

“It was the last two owners,” the other guy at the bar said.

“You two zip it,” Bob said.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere. Is there someplace in town I can get a room?”

“Try the yellow house around the corner from the hardware story. She takes in strangers and stray cats.”

“Thanks.”

Aaron finished his beer and walked back into the daylight. He had to shield his eyes and blink several timed before he could see normally again.

In a room he’d secured from old lady Bates, he laid down on his bed and for the first time in three days, he was actually cool. His mind went back to what the bar patrons had said about the last two owners of the butcher shop disappearing. At first, it troubled him, but then he figured they’d just gotten tired of this little nowhere town and ran off during the night, gladly trading what little investment they’d made for freedom from Eerie.

The following morning, Aaron saw the old man sitting across from the butcher shop again. This time, though, he didn’t sit down with him. Instead, he continued down the street, taking a tour of the whole town. Everything was closed. The few

people he saw on the street ignored him. When he got back

to the butcher shop, he took another look inside. Nothing had changed. He crossed the street and sat down beside the old man.

“What time do things open?” he asked.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On when they unlock the doors.”

Aaron was tempted to take the gun from his waistband at the small of his back and shoot this guy in the head, but decided it probably wouldn’t be a good thing to do since he planned to stay for a while.

“What can you tell me about the last owner of the butcher shop? I hear he just disappeared.”

“That’s what they say. I didn’t know him. Only saw him a few times.”

“How long did he own the shop?”

“Two, maybe three days.”

Not only did he have second thoughts about shooting this guy, he was beginning to doubt his ability to stay in a town like this. He was about to get up when Bob came wandering down the street. He stopped in front of Aaron.

“Still want to buy it? I’ll need cash. There’s no bank to finance you.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

Aaron could see Bob wasn’t expecting that. He probably only said cash so he wouldn’t be able to buy it. He smiled. “No problem at all.”

“Fine. Bring the money to the bar. Twice what’s on the sign.”

Aaron nodded and got up. He walked over to the store and refreshed him memory about how much Bob was asking. It wasn’t all that much, so double was still a fair price. At least it would have been in any other market.

Bob signed over the deed after counting the money. He put the money behind the bar and handed over the key.

“All yours.”

The front door of the butcher shop opened with a screeching of the hinges that made Aaron wince. He flipped the light switch and was surprised to find the place had power. Of the six fluorescent fixtures on the ceiling, two of them had one working bulb each. He signed loudly.

He purchased a dozen fluorescent tubes, an eight foot step ladder so he could reach the fixtures and a bag full of cleaning supplies at the hardware store. He tried to make small talk, but the clerk was unresponsive. Aaron shook his head. This guy was as friendly as the old man across from his business. There’d been no greeting upon entering, no inquiring if he needed assistance and now, no small talk at the register, but that was probably for the best. The less people knew about him the better.

With all the lights working again, he could actually see what needed to be done. The place looked like several dust storms had blown through since the last time it was cleaned. In the back room, he found a sink with running water a bucket and a mop.

It took all day for him to clean everything and another to re-paint the interior. All the equipment was working properly, so now all he needed was something to sell. He picked up the phone and was met with a dial tone. He put the phone back down. He didn’t even know what the nearest city was, let alone who to call for supplies. He looked out through the big window in the front wall and saw that the old man who usually sat opposite, was gone. He’d have to ask Bob.

Bob wasn’t thrilled to see Aaron.

“What’s the problem now?”

“I need to order some meat, but I don’t know where the nearest city is.”

“No cities around here, just a couple of towns. You can try Three Rock. It’s about twenty miles north of here.”

One of the patrons at the bar began to laugh. “Don’t let the name fool you, stranger, they only have two rocks there.”

Bob shot the man a deadly look. “Save it Gabe. Nobody was talking to you.”

Aaron sighed, turned on his heel and walked out the door and back to the butcher shop. Information gave him the number of a supplier. He ordered just enough to fill the display case with a little extra just in case he actually had customers. If he didn’t have a good trade, he would eat it himself.

The next day, a delivery truck stopped in front of the butcher shop. The delivery guy made several trips in and out of the shop with boxes and bags, going on and on about one thing or another. Aaron pretty much ignored him and the guy didn’t even notice. Aaron didn’t know which was worse, all the people ignoring him, or this guy that never shut up. The last thing he brought in was a whole pig that had been cleaned and dressed. He hung it on a hook in the walk-in fridge. Aaron signed for the supplies and paid the man. In the morning, he would put out the open sign.

Several strangers that he’d never seen before stopped in during the day and bought a few small items, which was okay with him. He could live for a very long time on the money in the trunk of his car and didn’t really need the income from the store.

He checked out of his room and moved into a small space on the second floor of the shop. It would be cozy enough as soon as he put in an air conditioner. Until then, it was bearable. That night, however, he didn’t sleep well. Dreams disturbed him for most of the night. There were visions of his ex-colleagues walking through his door, of him being dragged out into the night by two very large and ugly men and of dirt being shoveled down into a shallow grave onto his still breathing body.

He finally got out of bed just before seven and wandered downstairs. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the word Murderer scrawled, in blood, across the front of his walk-in cooler. The two e’s were backwards as if it were done by a third grader.

Aaron ran to the front door and checked it. It was still locked. He found the back door standing ajar. His heart rate jumped almost off the scale. Panic squeezed him like King Kong had the blonde at the top of the Empire State Building and adrenalin flowed freely through him. He wanted to run, to jump in his car and drive like hell, but he didn’t. He forced himself to calm down a bit and examine the situation.

There was no way they could have found him already. Not here. And why would they write that on the fridge, taking the pains to make it look so childish. They would have just stuffed him quite painfully into a hold in the ground half the size of his body. No, this was the work of a local. But they didn’t know he’d killed people for a living. Or did they?

He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of seeing him do something stupid. The day would continue as if nothing had happened. If whoever had done this was watching, he was in for a great disappointment. Aaron cleaned up the writing and then opened the shop.

The first customer of the day was Gabe from the bar. At first, he just stood in the middle of the floor looking around.

“Can I help you?”

“Oh, sorry. Just looking at what all ya done.”

“What can I get you?”

“A pound of burger meat will do it.”

While Aaron was wrapping up the meat, Gabe asked him, “So how’s it going for you?”

Aaron stopped what he was doing and looked up at Gabe, who was still looking all around the shop.

Was this the guy that did it? He wondered.

“Everything’s great,” Aaron said smiling.

“Well, that’s good.”

There didn’t seem to be any disappointment in the man’s voice. Maybe it wasn’t him after all. Aaron took the man’s money and watched him wander down the street without so much as a glance back over his shoulder.

He had several more customers during the day, most of whom were more curious than hungry. One old lady was particularly nosy and asked dozens of personal questions. Aaron managed to keep his life private despite the prying busybody. He

was very polite and thanked everybody as they left. He closed

right at five o’clock.

With supplies gathered at the hardware store, Aaron fixed the back door, adding two deadbolts. He installed identical security measures on the front door.

In the morning, he found leave today or die painted in blood across the floor at the foot of the stairs. Again, the small e’s were backwards. He backed halfway up the stairs and then turned and ran the rest of the way. He slammed his door and pressed his back up against it. His breath was short.

This isn’t possible, he thought. Nobody knows I’m here and they can’t get through the doors. Maybe I’m going crazy.

Slowly, he opened his door and looked out into the short hallway. There was nobody there. No one was on the stairs either. The words were still on the floor, which he carefully stepped over.

The back door was once again standing open. How the hell did they do that? He wondered. He vowed that however they did, the next time would be their last. The shop remained closed for the rest of the day. He spent the morning inspecting every inch of the building to make sure there wasn’t a way in he didn’t know about. After that, he spent time cleaning his gun and making sure it was in perfect working order. Then he waited.

Upstairs in his bedroom, Aaron took out the black duffle bag and unzipped it so he could look at the money again. It would calm him down. What was he going to do with just under a million dollars in this little town? He’d just have to save it till he moved on. He re-zipped the bag and put it into the closet.

When it started getting dark, he put a chair in front of the display counter facing the back door. Beside it was a small table he’d taken from beside his bed. On the table was a flashlight and his gun.

The time crawled after the sun went down and Aaron’s imagination began working overtime. Every little creak of the old building had him jumping. In one swift movement, he grabbed up his light and his gun in response to a loud noise behind him. It turned out to be the display case cooling motor switching on. Then a second sound in the direction of the back door had him spinning around once again. This time, the light settled on the back door. It was open a crack.

He jumped up and examined the lock and the deadbolts. None of them were damaged in any way. They had just simply opened. Clicking noises behind him made him jump. He turned the light toward the chair and almost screamed.

“What the hell,” he said out loud.

He backed up until he hit the door. He squeezed his eyes shut and then re-opened them. They were still there. He rubbed his eyes with his left hand while aiming his gun with the right. That still didn’t rid him of the two intruders.

“What are you,” he asked.

“The death of you,” one of them said.

“But this isn’t possible,” he said to a large pig that was standing up straight on his hind legs with his fore legs hanging down to his side, as if it were human. Sitting beside this abomination was his twin sitting in Aaron’s chair, grinning like a crazy person. Their eyes were white, their skin was mottled and beginning to slough off. The smell of rotten meat hung in the air around them. When they spoke, Aaron could see their long fangs.

“Who are you?”

“You didn’t heed our warning and leave, so now we have to kill you.”

“Buy why? I’ve never done anything to you.”

“You murdered our brother. We’ve seen him in the other room.”

Aaron remembered the hog he had hanging on the hook in the refrigerator.

“No, no. I didn’t kill him. I only have him hanging in there, so I can sell him.”

The two pigs looked at each other and then at Aaron. “You are truly an uncaring and unfeeling animal,” the first one said. “You have no respect for what is right and descent.”

“Defiling our brother’s body is wrong,” the second one said. “You’re just like the others who were here before you.”

“But, but I…”

Without finishing his sentence, Aaron raised his gun and pulled the trigger. The bullet struck the first pig in the chest. Bits of meat flew out into the darkness of the room, but it just stood there. He fired several more times, hitting both the pigs with the same non-results.

The first pig laughed. “You can’t kill us. We’re already dead.”

Both pigs began to laugh wildly as Aaron’s flashlight went out and the room became pitch black. Aaron couldn’t see anything, so he emptied his gun into the darkness directly in front of him. At first, there was silence, but then Aaron heard the sound of four cloven hooves walking slowly in his direction.



Word Count: 4585