The Butcher

by Jennifer Hillier

Reaching out, he once again touched the dent on the side of the Mathushek, left there from when he’d smashed her head into it four months ago.

One must always be careful cleaning up after a kill.

You’ll find a couple of big jugs of bleach on the shelf.” His grandfather smiled, his white dentures gleaming in the fluorescent lights. “You know, for times like this.”

“All of this? It’s exactly what the Chief wants. So I hope you give it to him. Do what I couldn’t do. Send the fucker to hell.”