“That idiot is probably still chasing you through the woods.” He approaches cautiously, arms out so I can’t dash away again. “If he doesn’t hurry you might accidentally fall and crack your skull open.” He licks his lips, “Well I’m sure if it was an accident he wouldn’t want you going to waste.” I feel an icy tremor go up my spine as I stumble, catching myself, and looking back to see a ditch. 

I have to do something quickly. 

The madman appears behind the boar/pig lifting something above his head. I gasp and fall backwards into the ditch, cowering in a ball as my “uncle” swings the ax down. I make sure to cover my ears tight knowing otherwise I would never forget the sounds. I wait a few minutes hoping it was over and made the mistake of looking up. The psychopath is chopping him into pieces completely lost in a rage. 

He’s screaming something, “I had a plan! I fuckin hate it when things don’t go according to plan!” He stops, looking at me with crazy eyes I’ve never seen before.

I jerk back lifting my hands stammering, “I, I’m sorry please don’t hurt me. I’ll be good. I’ll listen to you, please.” He breaks eye contact with me still panting and I see his hands shaking but I bet it’s not from fear or horror at what he just did. Especially as he takes a deep breath, composing himself. 

“No I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to actually believe I’d sell you. I always intended to kill him and steal his truck.” He makes a disgusted face at the blood on him. “And I just cleaned up too,” he bemoans. He starts carefully removing his blood soaked clothing turning it inside out to wipe what he can off his hands and face. 

I’m in shock. He’s talking to me. I'm need to shake myself out of it for now.

“Are you listening? I need you to focus.” He says taking a step closer. “I have a box already open, go bring me the yellow vial.” He tries to clean the blood out of his hair and then starts unbuttoning his pants. “Get me some clean clothes too and a bottle of water, actually all the water we have left.”

I swallow and go to stare emptily into the box until I register the color yellow and grab it then follow the rest of the list numbly.

“You said you’d be good right?” He’s talking softly and I realize I’m shaking pretty bad. 

I nod. 

“Good.” He holds out his hands, “Start by helping me clean the blood off.” I glance past him at the bloody, bone sticking out in every which direction, carcass. He moves slightly to block my view. Taking a breath that I desperately needed, I started pouring the water over his hands. 

“Stop.” He says. 

I flinch looking up. 

“Now my hair.” I lift the water bottle and he bends down. I take a little step back realizing that this is the first time he’s ever lowered his head to me. It’s strangely vulnerable. I shake my head and pour water over his bloody hair and face.  I start disassociating again until he lifts his head. He carefully checks for any more blood before drinking the rest of the open bottle. I stand completely still as he finishes getting dressed and opens the yellow vial he sprinkles some on himself and then me, the car, the carcass, and all over the truck. 

He pulls me to the passenger side of the tow truck and then starts brushing the dirt off of my chin. Soon realizing that there was blood under all that dirt. He squeezes my jaw and I open my mouth a little in pain, wincing. ‘Did he ask me where the blood came from? If it was mine? How did I get hurt? I don’t remember answering. He gives me some water and assesses the damage. 

“Did the pig do that?” He asks me with a murderous glint in his eyes. 

“Do, what?” I refocus for a second. “I…tripped and bit my tongue, I’m sorry please don’t hurt me.” I feel weak in the knees and he has to grab me to hold me up. He lifts me and opens the door to the truck. 

Placing me in it he finishes cleaning up my face and then with a final brush off of my clothing tells me, “Stay silent and don’t talk to anybody even if they speak to you.”

He loads everything into the truck and I mentally note the trembling fairy, grabbing and squeezing the cage to my chest desperately for comfort. Getting into the truck he takes a second to “learn" the controls before driving away. He still has the vial on him, clutched tight with white knuckles. I close my eyes and then start crying a little bit. 

“You’re okay.” He says monotone, “You were never in any danger.” He glances over at me and I stare at nothing straight ahead, trembling. “You’re mine.” I look towards him briefly, aware that something had just bothered me then I return to disassociating. 

I open my eyes aware that I’ve been spacing in and out a lot, the psychopath is completely silent. I lift my hands to find my headphones on. I remove them and wince at the grinding, gears changing of the tow truck. The psychopath notices me watching, “Welcome back.” He curses softly as he continues messing with the stick shift and clutch. 

“How long have I been out of it?” I ask despite my tongue protesting. 

“Not long enough.” He mutters. Making me huff and look out the window at the woods. 

“What was that? What happened?” I feel my pulse quicken as my memory flashes the most terrifying images from being chased by a monster and then seeing the psychopath chop him up into mush. He reaches across and covers my mouth. I look at him startled as he leaves his hand there until he needs to change the gears again. 

I breathe shakily continuing to look at him, remembering how he was covered from head to toe in blood. How he spit it out of his mouth unbothered. Did he really not kill my uncle? If he did then that means he’s lying about everything. 

He curses again and presses the brakes. I hold onto the seat belt. He places his head on the wheel muttering softly to himself. I hear a notification from my phone which inspires me. I do a few google searches and when he finally lifts his head he asks me, “What are you doing?”

“I, I’m googling how to drive a tow truck.” I watch as he sits up and tilts his head at me. So, taking it as a green light I turn the phone to him and show him the video.

“Wrong type of tow truck but it could still be similar.” He mutters then looking at me a little differently pats my head as stiff as someone who’s never done it before. “Good job.” 

I nod and turn away from him, putting my noise canceling headphones back on. I try to stifle any noises as I curl in on myself. I try to process what had happened. After a little while the truck starts moving again, roughly at first but then he’s able to keep it moving smoothly.

I slowly pay attention as we enter the town. Pulling my headphones down I look around at the colorful old brick buildings. The tow truck goes down the street and is immediately flagged down by a sheriff. 

He says, “Remember what I said, no talking.”

“Hello there.” The sheriff greets my “uncle” cheerfully. He messes with his cap for a second. “You seem to have forgotten our conversation.”

“Sorry Sheriff, you must be thinking about my predecessor, I’m the new tow truck driver.” The Sheriff squints at him and I watch my uncle pop open the vial of yellow particles pouring the sand like texture into his hand. 

“Nice to meet you my name’s Gib.” The suspicions of the Sheriff melt away as he shakes his hand. 

“W, well nice to meet you Gib.”

“This is my nephew.” My “uncle” gestures to me. The sheriff sends me a little wave and I can’t help but lift my hand before my uncle takes back his attention, “Where did you say the tow truck driver lived again? I'm a bit turned around.”

I feel my eyebrows lift in surprise as the sheriff rattles off an address. Something about a sweet lake. My uncle types the address into my phone and loads the directions to it.

“Well sheriff it’s been a long day, you should stop by my house for a visit sometime.”

“That sounds like a grand idea. You know I like to get to know all the new arrivals. Where do you live?”

“You may not have heard about it, it’s a bit out of the way.” My eyebrows raise even further as he rattles off the same address to the sheriff.

“Hold on let me write this down, I’m bad with new addresses. How long ago did you move in?” 

‘He’s so friendly.’ I feel my lip twitching into a little smile, ‘if not a bit ditzy.’ 

“Only just today but I’m already getting to know all the locals.” He pulls the fakest smile I’ve ever seen in my life but the sheriff just returns to his spot watching traffic.

I wait until we drive away before breathing, “How?”

My uncle smirks a little at me and then said, “That’s how those creatures are able to get away with everything.”

I remember the way the tow truck driver looked human one second and a monster the next. “Was the tow truck driver one of them?”

My uncle grips the wheel and I hunch over a little. I watch the cute little town passing by.

“That was a Gruagach.” I look at him and see he’s more relaxed. I scan him to see what the frick changed. He looks at me briefly. “Why do you look so shocked?”

“Well for starters you’ve been pretty pissed this whole time.” I start slowly in case he gets angry.

He leans on an arm cruising with one hand on the gearshift. “How do you feel about almost getting killed by that pig?”

I bite my lip, albeit this time gently and lick the healing split, the bandaid falling off at some point, “I was pretty terrified when he chased me through the woods.” My voice shakes, “He said you were gonna cut off my arm?”

He nods, “I told him that so he’d help us.”

“And he was gonna…eat it!?” I clutch the seat belt.

“That’s what they do, they’re maneaters.” He glances at me, “But they prefer to eat babies.” I make a face and pull my knees up to hug them. 

“I guess I’m glad you killed him then.” I whisper.

“Listen…when we get to his house.” He messes with his clean shaven chin, “If he has a family.”

“Stop. I, I don’t want to know this. Just…come and get me from the car when it’s all clear.” I wipe my eyes quickly trying not to think about it.

“I…understand that you don’t want to know but like I said, they eat children. Even the children have eaten-” I pull my headphones on and hug myself.

I look up as he pulls into the driveway. When he gets to the house he turns around and grabs his bag, pulling out a shotgun that had a really short barrel. He doesn’t look at me and I lock the doors behind him as he leaves. I see the door to the house open and cover my ears harder with the headphones, still hearing the gun shot ring out. 

For a long time I hide shaking. Panting. When I finally look up I see blood in the doorway. My eyes widen and my mind races with questions. Slowly lowering my headphones I strain my ears in the ringing silence. Then turning to the door, pull the handle to open it. 

“Uncle?” I call softly. Stepping down out of the truck I look at the beautifully maintained house. I remember the way the pigman licked his lips and hurry around the house. I don’t know what I’m doing or why but I feel like I have to do something. I see a window blown out and blood everywhere I close my eyes hard. I ran to the back of the house to see my uncle swirl around pointing the bloody muzzle in my face. I duck lifting my hands in terror. He looks around quickly, stoney mask relaxing a little bit. 

“What happened, did one escape?” He asks me while also turning me around. I see a flash of what is probably a pile of bodies before staring back the way I came. “Why are you here?” He whispers, “Did you keep your headphones on?” 

I nod, “I, I don’t know.” I confess gasping. I look up at him. He's got blood splatter on his face and his irises look red. He stops.

“Surely you weren’t trying to save them.”

“I, I actually don’t know why,” I confess trembling. “I think I just got so scared I panicked and had to run.” 

He looks at me for a long time and I feel his hand placement move to the back of my neck, “I want to show you something.”

“W, wait, I don’t want to see any bodies please.” I grab his hand but he squeezes tighter and leads me towards a shed. Opening the door the rest of the way he looks down at my squinted shut eyes. I cough gagging from the smell. 

“These are the victims of the monsters I just culled.”

I slowly open my eyes and see meat. But as my eyes adjust I realize that the carcasses are wearing children's clothing, kids the pig kidnapped and butchered. Hanging from hooks. I turn away, throwing up and he pulls me away to close the shed door.

I fall into the grass retching and sobbing. “I told you I didn’t want to see that!” I exclaim. He suddenly yanks me upwards and I gasp being forced to look into his strange murderous eyes. 

“Sometimes people like you need to see to understand why I do the things I do.” He looks back to the pile of bodies, “Otherwise you’d think I was the monster.” He watches me shuddering and crying and then pulls me into a strange, stiff hug. I tense, teeth bared to fight and look up to see him looking off into the distance completely disinterested. This causes me to immediately relax, pressing into him as I sob. I close my eyes as tears pour down my cheeks. 

“I can’t stay here.” I shake my head. “I can’t.” I mumble into his chest. He doesn’t say anything. 

“Let me burn the bodies.” He sighs giving in. “There’s too much blood anyway.” He picks me up and covers my eyes as he brings me back to the truck. “I should have lured them out of the house.” He’s saying to himself. 

Putting me in the truck he grabs the supplies he needs including some gas cans. After a moment I see flames rise in the backyard and know that soon all the evidence will be gone. He comes back to the truck looking at me from a distance before going over to his side. 

Suddenly he slams against the car door screaming and then slips down. 

I scream and crawl forwards to lock the door and watch a teenager my age drag him by his leg. 

I grab for my switchblade as he looks up, murder in his eyes. His entire family was just massacred. He comes for me, transforming into a horrible tusked monster as he slams against the window. Tusks bloody from my “uncle”. I stare at him, eyes watering. I mouth ‘I’m sorry.’ He stops trying to break in for some reason.  He bears his teeth, eyes watering as well then he goes to finish off the madman. 

‘His mistake, maybe he’d even have made it if he ran for the tree line but then would he have kept eating people?’ My uncle has obviously fought before he sweeps the teenager’s legs ending up on top of him with the shotgun in his face.

“Wait!” I exclaim scrambling out of the vehicle.

“Fuck!” The sociopath exclaims, “What now!?” He and the boar look at me.

“He’s vegetarian.” I say breathily, “He doesn’t eat meat.”

The teens eyes widen and he looks back up at my uncle. Who holds his bleeding wound where the boar gored him. My uncle glares with bloody bared teeth as he pants, he shoves the gun in the teens mouth, “No!” I scream.