The Butcher Box Set

by Sian B. Claven

  With school holidays beginning, he went to skate parks, the cinemas and anywhere young boys liked to hang out. Those areas were too public though, too open and often too close to home.

  He decided to spend one of his ‘hunting’ days at the mall just outside of town.

  The open skylight for a roof allowed much natural light in. It was warm inside, homely, and smelled of people and baked goods. He eventually found himself outside the arcade. It was noisy inside, and busy because of the holidays, so he decided to take a gander for anything in there to alleviate his boredom.

  He walked from one arcade game to another, checking out the high scores and what the games were about. In the back corner, near the counter where the owner sat, was a game called ZOMBIES NOW.

  He watched a little boy play.

  The game was about trying to kill people and then killing them again when they rose up as the walking dead. The game didn’t really interest him, but the boy’s enthusiasm did. He studied the boy as much as he could without coming across as a total creep. The boy was excited, shouting and cheering every time he killed one of the rising dead. His luck didn’t last long, however, and soon enough he was killed and the timer to continue appeared on the screen. Disheartened, he went from game to game, checking the refund slots for coins he could use to play his game again.

  The Butcher didn’t know why, but this boy would become the next scratch to his itch. He made his way over to him and leaned against the air hockey table where he checked for coins.

  “Hey, kid. What you doing?”

  The boy looked up at him with big hazel eyes and a haircut that looked like his mom put a bowl on his head and snipped away any hair that stuck out. The kid put his hands in his pockets and scuffed the toe of his shoe into the floor.

  “Nothing,” the boy muttered so quietly that it was barely audible.

  He approached and said, “Don’t be scared. I totally did this as well. I’m also out of change, but maybe I could help?”

  The boy seemed really shy, but curiosity made him watch the older boy now checking the other slots. He soon followed, keeping a small space between them.

  At the last machine he pretended to strike gold; two coins, which were actually in his hand, magically appeared in the slot for change. He held them up.

  “Want to tag team on that zombie game?” he offered.

  Hook, line and sinker. The boy nodded and turned to quickly go back to game. He followed, watching the swish of the boy’s hair as he bounced up and down, waiting for him to deposit the coins.

  They managed to get quite far together and by the end of it the little boy had a big smile on his face, a trusting smile, a foolish smile.

  With the game over he held his hand out. “It was nice playing with you, kid; hope we can play again sometime.”

  “Kyle.”

  He gave the boy a surprised look. “Sorry?”

  “My name is Kyle,” he repeated, shaking his hand.

  He had to think fast; he couldn’t give his real name, it wasn’t safe. “Paul, my name is Paul. Hey, if you’re keen to play tomorrow I’ll be here, same time?”

  Kyle didn’t respond; he simply withdrew his hand, turned on his heel and ran.

  He brought change with him this time. He had scrounged around in the sofa, behind furniture and in pants pockets in his house to gather a good handful of coins for the arcade. He waited near the zombie game, a cup of soda in each of his hands. He saw Kyle coming, snaking his way through the crowd of shoppers until he slipped into the arcade.

  Smiling as Kyle approached him, he held out a soda. “Here you go, I hope you like soda.”

  Kyle took it happily, drawing the liquid through the straw, before smacking his lips and heading towards one of the machines.

  “Oh, we don’t have to worry about finding coins today, Kyle. I got some from home.”

  Kyle came back, smiling brightly at the coins his new friend held out. “We could play for hours with these.”

  He took two and loaded them into the zombie game. ‘Paul’ followed him, pretending to be excited as well. Truthfully, he felt nothing for games; they were a waste of time, except now, when it meant he had access to Kyle, his next precious project.

  They played for what felt like hours. Kyle checked his cute little Disney watch every so often to make sure he would be back in time for his mom to collect him.

  The information he gathered in those hours though, that was priceless and worth the mind numbing music and graphics of ZOMBIES NOW. In those hours he found out that Kyle was eight years old and that his father was a dead beat who left the family years ago. His mother worked at one of the mall’s clothing stores. She kept him at the Mall’s day care programme while she was at work, but Kyle felt he was too old to be there. They didn’t even miss him when he snuck out.

  Once they had exhausted all the coins, they sat on a bench near the bowling alleys and chatted. Kyle did most of the talking, and he didn’t seem to mind.

  He had to remind himself to seem interested and to remember the details. He needed to ensure the boy completely trusted him so that he could take him somewhere more secluded to add him to his collection.

  Glancing at the time, he told Kyle it was time to say goodbye. The boy seemed genuinely disappointed.

  “Want to hang out again tomorrow?” Kyle asked.

  Sweet, innocent, trusting, naive little child.

  Spending every day at the arcade would enable the old geezer who owned the place to remember more and more details about him. He needed to break it up.

  “Not tomorrow, I have plans tomorrow and the day after. How about Friday?”

  Kyle agreed happily, before saying his goodbyes and taking off.

  Friday could not come quickly enough.

  The itch inside him had transformed into a burn that licked his very soul. He needed to see the light leave those hazel eyes. He needed to satisfy the need. He didn’t have anything to preoccupy him - how he wished he had - so he kept busy by hunting rabbits in the wooded area near his house. The grown rabbits were far less trusting than their offspring and it was harder work, but it kept his mind occupied and the burn in the back of his head.

  After everyone left the house on Friday, he changed his clothes before leaving. He never wore the same clothes out as he wore at home because it was easily recognisable by his family.

  He caught the Number 32 bus to the city and got off two blocks away from the mall. He pulled a blue cap on to hide his hair cut and walked towards the mall. He had asked his father for money this time, stating he needed a new textbook. His father never questioned him, another trusting fool, and wouldn’t check whether or not he had purchased the book.

  When he entered the mall he digressed and entered the book store. He wandered aimlessly, keeping an eye on the time, checking out books and pretending to read the backs. He cared little for what they held; he just wanted enough time to pass to make Kyle squirmy.

  There was nothing more rewarding in this world than power, and knowing you had it. Seeing the joy on Kyle’s face when his new friend showed up, that was power. Kyle’s life would be miserable without his new friend.

  He breathed in deeply and smiled. Checking his watch one last time, he strode out of the book store and down the walkway towards the arcade.

  As predicted, Kyle was waiting anxiously near the bench they sat on previously. He seemed disappointed and was kicking the floor.

  He considered calling to the boy, but didn’t want to draw attention. Instead, he crept up to him and stood behind him. “You didn’t think I forgot about today, did you?”

  Kyle jumped up and a wide grin spread across his face. “I did,” he admitted, blushing. “I thought maybe you were sick of me. I mean you’re a teenager and I’m just a kid.”

  “A really cool kid,” he gushed back, going so far as to ruffle Kyle’s hair. “I was just running late, I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s no problem at all,” Kyle said quickly, shaking his head. �
�Want to check the machines for some change?”

  He withdrew the crisp notes from his pocket and held them up for the boy to see. “No need! Got my allowance. So we can break these bad boys and play all day.”

  Kyle’s eyes widened into saucers and he licked his lips slightly, excited by the idea of how many games they would be able to play. “We might even finish up on the last level,” he commented, as though talking to himself. “And you want to spend your allowance playing games with me?”

  His voice trembled slightly, as though the thought that someone older would do such a kind thing for him was not lost on him.

  Hook. Line. Sinker.

  “Of course, you’re like one of my best friends now. Why wouldn’t I want to use my allowance to play games with my best friend?” He looked away, pretending to be embarrassed; it was so easy.

  He let Kyle take the notes from him to get change and waited at the game machine instead. Soon enough, the boy came back with his pockets stuffed with coins and his teeth on full display with a smile that reached from ear to ear.

  The remainder of their afternoon was spent playing the game the kid loved so much. He wanted to mix it up and get him to play another game, because this one had become so trying, but didn’t want to risk upsetting the child. It was important that Kyle thought they shared many things in common.

  Kyle couldn’t stop gushing about what an amazing time he had; he spoke the entire way back to the mall’s day care. The Butcher didn’t want to get too close though and, when they were about to round the corner, he stopped.

  “This is where I have to say goodbye. I’m going to be late for my bus.”

  Kyle was disappointed, but nodded. “Okay. When will I see you again, Paul?”

  “Soon, I promise. Why don’t we get together next Tuesday?”

  The little boy nodded excitedly and left.

  He was close, the itch was intensifying.

  The time leading up to Tuesday was both important but at the same time so excruciating. He wanted the perfect place to create his art, public but at the same time secluded. He needed to observe first.

  The things he learnt in that time, while carefully avoiding Kyle, proved interesting. His observations were keen and, just like the people in his neighbourhood, the employees of the mall all had dirty little secrets they were trying to keep, and were not keeping them very well.

  One fat security guard was a pickpocket, a thief, and spent more of his time shopping with a five finger discount than he did watching out for other criminals. The store owners were oblivious to the fact that their most ‘trusted’ employee was the reason they were always short stocked at the end of the day.

  When the pharmacist was busy in the back, the assistant stole drugs from behind the counter, popping a few pills in her mouth before bagging the rest. The old pharmacist was none the wiser, but then he had a little drug problem of his own.

  The best information he gathered was of Kyle’s mother, the clothing store assistant who liked to smoke out by the dumpster every day at eleven, one and three. Only, she did more than smoke. She would meet up with the pharmacist, pop a few pills with him and then they would have at each other right there in the back alley amongst the trash. That’s what they are, he thought, absolute trash.

  A thought then occurred to him and he couldn’t wait for Tuesday.

  Kyle practically bounced into his arms and gave him a giant hug on Tuesday afternoon, talking quickly about what he was up to.

  After Kyle’s babbling had died down, he asked the lad, “But you didn’t tell your mom about us, right?”

  Kyle nodded. “No, because then she would make the day-care make sure I can’t get out again.”

  He nodded his approval and Kyle beamed like it was Christmas.

  He knelt and lowered his voice. “I found out where they keep the other arcade games, including the brand new Zombie one. Want to go check it out?”

  Kyle’s eyes couldn’t get wider as he squealed and had to be shushed. He stood up and took Kyle’s hand in his, leading him out of the arcade. He checked the time; it was two, which meant the area would be clear for at least an hour. He led his sweet little prize to the alley where his mother met her dealer daily, shutting the door behind them.

  Kyle let go of his hand and glanced around. “Where is it?”

  Before Kyle could turn, he produced a chloroform-soaked rag from his pocket and reaching around Kyle, pressed it against his mouth and nose to inhale, keeping it there until Kyle passed out.

  He had planned it carefully this time. Stowing his bag behind some bins earlier, he kept the rag and small bottle of chloroform on him so he wouldn’t have to find it.

  Once Kyle was out, he dragged his body to the dumpster, his trashy mother’s dumpster, and left the boy’s body to lie there while he retrieved his bag.

  He put a garbage bag on, with strategically cut holes, like a shirt and another like pants, tying them together with some rope. He put gloves on and then plastic grocery bags over his shoes.

  Excited, he withdrew an axe he had stolen and sharpened himself. He held it firmly in his hands. He stared down at the little boy who had so desperately looked up at him, and without a second thought brought the axe down on his neck. It took four attempts to completely severe the head from the body.

  Once done, he pulled the body up against the dumpster and placed the head between the legs, mouth open. He stepped back to admire his work and was aroused.

  He quickly stripped the bags off and bagged them to be disposed of far away. He adjusted his pants, slung his bag over his shoulder, and walked through the mall to the exit.

  On Wednesday, once school was done and with that itch still satisfied, he walked into his house to find his father in his favourite chair watching the news. The reporter was discussing the grisly murder of eight year old Kyle White.

  He paused in the doorway, hiding his delight as the reporter described the gruesome way the body had been discovered by Kyle’s own mother. The reporter didn’t mention anything about Morgan Tabitha, which pleased him because it meant the authorities hadn’t connected the dots.

  Then, everything changed.

  A picture came up of the ‘suspected murderer’ as described by the arcade owner. His breath caught in his chest. It could easily be him, a little older looking than he was, but if anyone who knew him looked too closely, they could possibly connect him.

  His mind raced back to the day before, to recall whether he left any evidence behind and if he had dumped his ‘tools’ properly. Panic rose. The joy he experienced earlier was forgotten as he promised to whatever god would listen, good or bad, that he would never kill someone in such a public way again, as long as he didn’t get caught for this one.

  Chapter 4

  Kallista

  She had moved on to The Butcher’s second murder victim, Kyle White. She wanted to draw as much information from this murder as she could because this was possibly the first, and only, time there was a physical description of the murderer.

  Kallista gave herself a mental check. When she started this project, she understood that finding out who the actual killer was might not necessarily be the outcome. But still, there was a glimmer of hope, and for all intents and for all the academic reasons she had given for using The Butcher as her case study, in her heart she knew she wanted to find out who had taken Tatum from her.

  Just as Jody White had wanted to know what psychotic, perverse person had taken Kyle from her. Jody had found his body. She went out back with the local pharmacist on their break to have a chat and found her son’s body propped against the dumpster, his head between his legs.

  There had been a manhunt for the person the boy had been seen with during the weeks leading up to his death, but Kalli wasn’t convinced the arcade owner had given the cops all he knew. After all, he had known Kyle and his mother and knew the boy was meant to be in day-care. He probably didn’t want to come across as a money hungry owner that didn’t care for the boy’s well
being, simply his coins. Kalli wanted to question him herself and wondered whether he was still alive.

  It was the early hours of the morning and the sun would be rising soon. She wanted to get a decent jog in before sunrise to work out the cabin fever she felt from being cooped up in her own space too long. Her psychologist had warned her about doing that, and convinced her, if she wasn’t going to go out and socialise, she could at the very least do an outdoors type of sport. She liked jogging.

  Changing into a black tracksuit pants with a black vest, she threw a blue hoodie over it to keep warm. Before strapping her iPod to her belt, she carefully selected her favourite playlist, hit play and exited the house, putting her earphones in.

  Her feet hit the pavement hard and she zoned out as she listened to the music. It was hard rock, Disturbed’s latest album, which triggered her anger and her adrenaline, and she threw herself into her jogging, not caring one bit about the world she passed by.

  Before she knew it she was back at the house, her body covered in a light sweat and her breath coming in short bursts. Her muscles felt like they were on fire and climbing up the short set of stairs to her front door took more effort than it should have. She had pushed herself hard.

  She checked the time. If she had a quick shower and skipped breakfast, she could catch the arcade owner as the stores opened.

  The mall was still silent. The only chatter was that of employees of the various retailers, catching up on the latest gossip as they put out their wares and prepared for the day ahead.

  Kalli ignored them as she strode through the mall. Since childhood she had stopped caring about designer brands and the latest fashions. She preferred to be more practical, so she seldom stopped at malls for shopping sprees like other women. She didn’t even give the stores a second glance, stopping only once at a mall map to make sure she was going in the right direction. It had been so many years since she had last been here, she couldn’t remember exactly where it was.