Chapter 21
I was running out of time. I had no choice; I had to go see what it had in store for me. I grabbed my coat and braved the furious, icy winds.
Outside, the town was swallowed in snow.
The air seemed to glow with it, snowflakes drifting sideways in the wind, soft and endless.
The streets were nearly empty; even the usual hum of traffic seemed buried under the white snow.
Everyone was terrified to come out of their homes because of the Xmas Day Butcher.
As I crossed into the town square, I noticed MISSING PERSONS posters of Joseph Candela and Angela stapled on wood posts and taped to street crossings. A knot grew in my throat, but I swallowed it down.
I kept my head down as I walked, the cold freezing my face off.
The post office sat at the edge of Hollow Oaks Avenue, its lights dim behind frosted windows. Inside, the warm air was refreshing. The clerk’s window was closed; a small sign read “Out for lunch.” I didn’t wait. I went straight to my postbox to see what was there.
The key turned with a squeal. Inside, against the dull metal, sat a single red envelope. Beneath it, a small pig ornament—pink and round, wearing a miniature Santa hat. Its porcelain body gleamed faintly in the light.
A strange chill crawled through me. I reached in and took them both out. The pig was heavier than it looked, the cold seeping into my fingers. I set it on the counter beside me, and for a moment, it looked alive—its tiny black eyes reflecting the light like wet ink.
The envelope was unmarked except for my name: Lenny Frost. The handwriting was sharp, deliberate. I tore the flap open. A single sheet of paper slid out, crisp and white.
CLUE #11: “He’s a pig that’s round like a mound, with a dark secret that’s yet to be found. This is not a game. Kill him now.”
Beneath that, the address to Town Hall, with a small key.
For a moment, I stood frozen, the letter trembling slightly in my hands. I glanced back at the pig. It seemed to be mocking me with an evil smirk—glaring at me with cold, black eyes.
I knew what I had to do—I couldn’t delay it anymore.
I had to kill Mayor Hamonte, or else I’d pay the price—Angela’s life.
I’d killed George and Joseph; now I was about to kill one more.
I never imagined myself doing evil acts of savagery, but when you’re thrust into a truly despicable game with no sense of morality, you find yourself doing anything to save the ones you love.
I folded the letter, slid it into my coat, and picked up the pig—examining it.
I did the only thing I could—I set out to kill Mayor Hamonte.