The Butcher and The Wren

by Alaina Urquhart

Now, the only noises he craves are those of the bayou. Its symphony of creatures soothes him like a warm blanket. Nature always makes the best soundtrack.

The name of the game is to survive, my friends. Try to escape, if you can. The only thing between you and your freedom is a few acres of bayou … and me.”

“He’s just going to kill us anyway. Super psyched to meet you though!” She rubs her forehead and starts to cry softly.

The odor is unmistakable. As they near the flies, the air becomes thick and hazy. It’s like walking into another realm, one filled with death and decay.

Wren’s world brightens to vivid Technicolor. She looks up at the paramedics with wild eyes, yelling, “You’re up! She has a pulse!”

He isn’t looking for a target practice dummy. He’s looking for another rabbit that can run.

Once he can feel her breath meet his, he speaks softly. “You should run.”

He could move on to another place, where his movements won’t be so magnified. It’s the only choice left really, but first he wants to bring Louisiana to its knees.

In the dark, their eyes gleam like they do in nightmares. They move slickly through the muck with tails capable of incapacitating a man faster than any weapon. They are the true bayou butchers, ruthless and bloodthirsty.