Lousiana Butcher. (Chapter Seven)

The kid was back at the general store as always. He didn't talk to anyone nor gave a response to any human gesture a person made towards him. For a teenager he was tall and dispraportioned with long arms and an almost hulking chest. In the town's gossip he was what you would call special. A kid with problems in the head and the bump on the side of his forhead could have been proof to support this. But he could drive and pay for the items he bought. Then the young man would disappear for a few weeks and then return like a creature of habit.

Something was off thou this time. Edgard Wollowitz, the clerk and owner of Hopkin's General store had a gutt feeling. Something felt wrong as he watched the habitual creature stare up into the ceiling and not make a single movement. The usual ritual of grabbing items off the shelves did not commence. Instead he stood rigid with the look of distress plastered on his face. Edgard made the decision to walk over. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder with a hint of caution. The flesh underneath tensed as he suddenly turned around to face Wollowitz with wide eyes. His unexpected speed for a slow kid caused the clerk to yelp and take a step back.

"Kid look I apologize, I didn't-"

Edgard was stopped when the boy across him cocked his head to the side and gave a toothy smile. His teeth were literally rotten, some missing. But still he didn't speak. The look of distress in his eyes was evident as Edgard's gutt feeling became stronger. He wanted to give him a benefit of a doubt even if he felt danger looming over. Again Edgard attempted to speak but only to be ignored. Eventually he gave up and went back behind the counter. A ritual was finally completed and he left with the usual items. Edgard Wollowitz, a man of caution and supersticion, a man who listened to his senses decided to never interfere with that boy again. A bad feeling crawled up his spine as it sent shivers. He can still remember that nasty grin with a horrible stench emitting. Who the hell were his parents?

Edgard had turned his attention to the minature TV perched on the countertop at the far left corner. The news came on, interupting the football game. A body was found but this time it wasn't in the regular watery grave like the others. He had been paying attention to the recent strings of murders, like the other residents of Longhorn Edgard was in fear of the killer but he wouldn't mention it to his wife. Edgard kept a shot gun under the counter top where it was loaded and ready. It gave him a piece of mind when he worked. He was not only scared shitless of being a possible next victim, but he was also peeved about the lack of customers whom were people either driving through Longhorn as tourists or locals. Not many people wanted to stay out long due to a serial killer on the loose. It was not surprising that the police, investigators and forensic scientists still couldn't pin point the culprit. "Caroline Smith, thirty seven years old, was found dead in the swamps."

The news woman said with her surpisingly calm voice. Her done up hair shined as she continued to move her lips. Edgard now pulled over a stool and sat on it. He paid close attention as the image of a woman floating face down in water quickly flashed and then her photo while alive. Now Edgard recognized her. She was a regular at his store eversince she was able to drive. Those brief fond memories were now replaced with bitter grief as he turned it off. A tear rolled down his weathered cheek. Edgard's eyes faced the front when they met another pair. For a moment the General store owner was startled as he nearly fell back. But he caught his balance quickly and supported himself up by gripping the edge of the counter. Those eyes belonged to the boy. He was back again as he loomed over the smaller man. His eyes were full of menacing hatred. There was something dangerous about this young man and Edgard could sense it. His gutt was not only telling, but screaming to get away. In a mental revelation this person was the killer, or so Edgard thought as he reached for his shot gun. Before he could pull it out the young man dropped something onto the smooth dark surface. There were many clinks as coins spun before finally dropping. "I-I didn't p-pay, pay, e-enough."

Came a stuttering low voice. It struggled to speak as its owner twitched and flinched. Edgard slowly swiped the coins over to himself and briefly nodded. He was in shock that the boy spoke. No one in Longhorn county has heard him speak a single word. Trying not to be rude Edgard briefly thanked him. He returned to sitting on his stool as he thought that his unusual customer would leave quickly just like he had appearing. He picked up a news paper and opened it when he heard that same voice in struggle. Edgard looked over. Now the kid had both hands down while his mouth was moving. Gargling sounds came out before struggling words followed.

"P-pa, p-pa i-is-"

He heaved softly. His lips trembled as he tried to think. Edgard was now paying attention.

"M-m-mad at t-town people. I-I need to g-get him-w-whiskey!"


He spat out the words and panted slightly before looking Edgard in the eyes. Edgard raised a brow at this in questioning. He didn't know how to reply for there was still a bad feeling he got from him. Finally he was able to think of words to say but kept close to his weapon.

"I'm sorry but I cannot sell alcohol to underage minors. If your father needs whiskey then he will have to come buy it here himself. Look kid, I'm sorry but yah have to leave."

He motioned to the door. Edgard half expected him to get angry, to cause damage to himself and his store. But instead he silently nodded and left as quick as he came. The bell rang briefly as the door was slammed. Not a single word was spoken. For a brief moment relief washed over. But the feeling Edgard had had grown stronger.

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